Ice, Ice, Baby
It is inevitable in the Great White North. The scorching, humid, summer is followed by the blazing colors of fall, followed by the blistering winter. Said winter makes it difficult to kayak with ice thick enough to drive large vehicles on (though I have seen people attempt it). Thus, we kayak fisherman take this lemon and make lemon vodka. We bust out the shanties and ice poles, fill our flasks with vodka, and fill our ice-free coolers with beer (to keep it from freezing since it is so cold), and head out on the "hard water". Hard water is a beast of its own. Specific rods, reels, lures, bait, electronics, and augers to get you a hole through which you wet your line and (hopefully) retrieve some fish. In this area, others had been out sooner. Some die-hards will go out on questionable ice, crawling across with plywood, tied to their buddies with a long rope. Yes, I've kayaked in my fair share of conditions others wouldn't consider. But, for me, ice is too un