Freezing Your Giblets

Fishing pressure subsides as temperatures fall. Anglers are human, at least most of them, and gravitate toward creature comforts that include warmth, food, and indoor entertainment. The exceptions include those of us who fish all year long in spite of the weather rather than because of it.

I prefer to quote temperatures in Celsius rather than Fahrenheit in the winter because any number below freezing should show up as negative. Few of us relish having ice build up in our rod guides, and negative temperatures better reflect our situation.

Negative temperatures seem more appropriate when the feeder streams freeze.

Still, fishing when the shallows are outlined in a skim of ice makes me feel hardy, even though the smell of woodsmoke from nearby cabins seems like an invitation to come inside. I’ve managed to learn a system of sorts that helps me not only to stand fishing in cold weather, but to actually enjoy it.

For starters, I’ve accumulated layers of clothes thin but warm, so even with all of them on I can still fit inside my waders, though I might be mistaken for the Pillsbury Doughboy in fishing attire. Most important of all is a heavy pair of socks to keep my feet warm in cold water. I even wear a size larger wader boot in the winter so I can wiggle my toes to check if I still have any feeling in them.

In particularly cold weather, I carry peppered jerky in my fishing pack. The heat from the jerky flows throughout my body, and I keep a small wad in the side of my mouth the way my elders did with a chunk of Redman. The biggest difference is that I don’t have to spit.

The other nice thing about winter fishing is that I can sleep late without feeling guilty. The most productive time of the day tends to be around lunchtime. Knowing when to quit is never a problem, because once the sun slides behind the mountain both the fish and I feel the change. We stop our activities almost by mutual consent.

Though I tend not to catch a lot of fish in cold weather, I have come off the river satisfied that the day was well spent and with a story or two.

Fishing in the snow may produce more stories than fish.

For instance, some years ago, I went to a local stream shortly after a snowstorm. We had about six inches of powdery snow accumulate and the snow-plow drivers seemed to enjoy the rare opportunity to put their equipment to use. But with few plows and many secondary roads, my tire tracks were the first on the road along the river and four-wheel-drive came in handy.

I started midmorning and it was as cold as it sounds. A brisk wind blew sparkling bits of snow across the surface and the sun offered more light than warmth. I fished through the morning without so much as a bite.

Around lunchtime, I was already on my second piece of jerky and decided to change flies as if that might be the problem. I had fished up to a pool deep enough that the bottom faded out of sight and I thought perhaps a fish might have hunkered down in the deepest part. I had a weighted egg in my box and figured by just rolling it along the rocks in that deep water I could hit a trout on the nose and wake it up.

Of course, the bottom also comes littered with sticks, mossy rocks, and other snags, so I wasn’t surprised to just have my line pause when the egg stopped rolling. I gave my rod tip a couple flicks with my wrist, pulling upstream to nudge the fly loose. Rather than getting loose, the fly and what I had hung began to move upstream.

I could lie about a dramatic fight with the fish, since it was too cold for witnesses and I’m sharing this all from memory. But I’ll try to stay as close to the truth as my memory allows and confess that the fish fought as if it were as cold as I was.

First, the trout shook its head back and forth like a puppy with a stuffed toy intent on destroying it. Then, the fish swerved toward a log on the far side of the pool which I guided it away from. Next, it dipped toward the rocks at the tail of the pool, sliding its head on the bottom as if trying to dislodge the fly.

After one last lap around the pool, a lanky brown trout glided across the surface and folded into my net.

The lanky brown after one last lap.

I paused with the old brown for a few moments to let it revive in the shallows while I admired it. I had caught a few nice browns on this stream, but this one was my largest of the season and perhaps my second largest from this small river. I took a few photos and watched the trout swim with as little effort as possible back into the hidden depths of the pool.

The trout revived quickly in the cold water.

The water was soon as still as if the fish had never been caught, and I had to play it all through my head again to know I wasn’t hallucinating from the cold.

Thinking perhaps I had unlocked the secret to catching fish on a snowy day, I headed up to the next pool and drifted my egg through the deepest parts with no success. And I repeated the process on one more pool with no luck there.

When I stepped out on the bank to warm my feet, the snow stuck to my boots like leaves to a wet sucker. All the cleats filled in between with packed snow and walking felt more like skating. The shadows fell on the water, my jerky was almost consumed, and the heater on the truck seemed like a good substitute for a fire until I could get home.

At least on the way home I could follow my own tracks.

Driving back through the snow on the way home, I felt satisfied. If I had stayed inside and watched sports, I wouldn’t remember the game to this day regardless of the outcome. But a trip in the snow, even if I only got one bite; that I can remember. Not only was it a good fish, but the conditions were such that anyone in their right mind would have stayed home, something that tells you much about my mental state.

So, if your goal is catching a lot of fish, cold-weather trout fishing may not be the best pursuit. But if your goal is catching memories, perhaps there is no better time, even if you do freeze your giblets.

Jim Mize rarely lets the weatherman talk him out of fishing. Jim’s award-winning book, The Jon Boat Years, is available online or you can purchase autographed copies at www.acreektricklesthroughit.com.