I thought the title and opening video pretty much summed it all up. You'll notice that there's no pictures of the fish we caught...they were swallowed by a rapidly expanding snow drift. They weren't plentiful but the seven I had to excavate for will feed me several dinners.
It takes a very special type of crazy to willingly expose one's self to extreme conditions like this. In the second picture the guys in the Frabill hut were up from the Detroit area for several days and when you travel several hundred miles to another country to fish...well...you fish, regardless of the conditions.
In the next pic, the huts behind Tackle Shop were owned by locals that were only five minutes from a warm fire and a cold beer. Once TS was assured there were fish below him, after 45 minutes of cold futility, he erected and retired to his one man shelter leaving me to be the only nut job exposed.
About the time of TS's erection another lost soul wander out onto the ice and set up closer to shore. I thought he looked vaguely familiar through the veil of blowing snow but it wasn't until I went for a visit that I realized it was long time friend Road Animal.
It was a hard day for everyone out on the ice and I heard it said "It will be a cold day in hell before I do this again" but one man's hell is another man's heaven. I just need better gloves!