Breaking the Ice: A Beginner's Look at Ice Fishing in Southern Colorado
By Juan Morales
Southern Colorado Magazine-Summer 2003
After driving three hours from Pueblo, Luke Lucero and I get out of my truck
into Leadville's snowy morning in front of his brother Glenn's house. Two
inches of snow fell on the former mining town the night before, leaving the
town slightly chilled. We load up all the fishing equipment in the truck along
with Glenn's Great Pyrenees, a large, mellow dog
named Spud with a thick white coat. As he closes the cab, Glenn turns to me
and says, "You always need a good fishing dog. That's your first lesson."
We park next to the Sugarloaf Dam at Turquoise Lake after driving through Leadville. The thick grey clouds start to break, allowing the sun's bright fingers through. The lake is quite large at 1,800 acres, but I can't see the majority of it. This is my first ice fishing trip, so I awkwardly watch Luke and Glenn unload the a grey wooden box with skis, into which all the equipment was packed, including the gas-powered drill, a tackle box with hooks and bait, a thermos of tea, our poles and two white buckets.
We drag the box of equipment downhill onto the frozen lake. We stop about 60 yards offshore. Men within talking distance exchange greetings with us while Spud decides to sniff everyone he can. Luke and Glenn talk with these men about bait and the behavior of the fish. The Sugarloaf Dam now towers over us due to the low water level from last year's drought.
Luke and Glenn are both Leadville natives, so they know Lake County extremely well. Luke, a retired miner, points in various directions around us, lists off the nearby mines, high-elevation lakes, and mountains including Slide Lake, Mount Sheridan, and the Gallagher Mine. Occasionally, he strokes his white handlebar mustache down. Glenn also shares the same extensive knowledge of the area's landscape too and talks about various hunting and fishing trips from the past.
Getting Started
Ice-fishing starts with a good fishing spot Luke points to a spot, explaining
that a good fishing hole can be in shallow water because lots of fish congregate
close to the shore and dam. 
Glenn
starts the gas-powered drill and begins the first hole. He places all his
body weight on the drill in a steady motion until he reaches the water under
the 16 inches of ice. Then he drills two more holes.
Sometimes fishermen bring their tents and little shacks, but Glenn and Luke agree that today's windy 23 degree weather is warm enough for us to sit outside. Glenn says that it may even get up to 27 degrees if the sun comes out. Whenever one goes ice fishing, it is important to keep warm because the cold can ruin the whole trip. Dressing warm requires gloves, hats, layers, and thick waterproof boots.
We assemble our fishing poles, and Luke opens a sandwich bag with a thawed suckerfish. Suckers are perfect for catching mackinaw while other fish like other bait.
"Different types of bait will determine what kind of fish you are going to catch. For now, let's stick to sucker meat. We'll probably move closer to the dam and switch to worms and catch us some rainbows," Luke says.
I follow their advice and carefully place a fat chunk of sucker meat on my hook. First spread the scales apart and insert the hook where the meat vaguely shows under the scales. Then, the hook should be positioned on the edge of the meat making it easier to snag a fish.
We are all using long poles, but Glenn also has a short pole. Luke says the shorter rod is generally used inside shacks. Ice fishing does not require fancy equipment for the most part, making it possible for someone to start ice fishing with a frugal budget.
Everyone is finally settled in, including Spud, who after wandering to other fishermen, lies in the snow and sleeps. Mimicking Luke and Glenn's motions, I let my line drop into the water until it goes slack, indicating that my bait hit the bottom about 30 feet down. It is possible to know how deep the line is in the water based on the number of revolutions the line is reeled. One revolution is close to a foot and a half.
After tangling my line into several "bird nests," I start to get the hang of it. I am thrilled once I start to understand the mechanics. Meanwhile, Luke has already caught three fish. He moves his rod with an up and down motion and snaps it up to snag the fish. He quickly reels it in. Glenn reminds me the best way to catch a fish is to give the bait some movement to attract the fish.
Once caught, Luke puts the fish in a bucket of water,avoiding the limit problem in case he catches any larger fish later on. Every angler must be aware of the limits and restrictions each lake has because it varies. In our case, we can only take home six mackinaw, so putting the fish in the bucket gives us another chance to catch bigger fish.
My chair is facing away from the sun and into the wind, so I quickly get a lot colder. Finally, I turn my chair. "I was wondering how long it would take you to figure that out," Luke says with a chuckle.
The One that Got Away
The whole time my pole gets heavier and lighter. I'm unable to tell if I have a bite. I grow frustrated and start to wonder "Is this it?" Why would anyone fishing in these conditions? I try again, following the same steps as before. I start to reel my hook up from the depths more often, thinking I might have a bite. I grow skeptical of my constant reeling until Glenn says, "You better put some new bait on that because the fish bit that sucker fish up good."
Whenever someone is ice fishing, there should be no shame in being fooled into thinking that a fish is biting. In the beginning, reeling in the line is a matter of guessing. Eventually the novice gets a feel for what a real bite feels like in comparison to a false one.
The fish continue biting. Lacking experience, I awkwardly pull my rod upward hoping to snag the fish. I reel the bait in until my hook comes to the surface empty. I drop the hook in the water again and wait.
I feel another tug and snap the pole up. I reel the hook in and fight while the fish gets closer to the surface. This is the moment the massive fish will squeeze through the hole, but suddenly, the struggle stops. The fish escaped, while my hook is jammed into the ice.
Glenn and Luke laugh. "I don't know if they mean to, but the fish do that a lot," Glenn says.
"Oh, they do it on purpose. How could they not?" Luke replies.
Another important lesson I take away from my ice fishing adventure is to never be shy but to network. The whole time we are fishing, other fishermen approach us and start up conversations. Nobody has a competitive attitude. During every conversation, they exchange tips, ask questions, and stare at the fish in the white bucket. Most scratch Spud on the head and move on while wishing us good luck.
These brief conversations are helpful because it allows anglers to exchange information about the lake they are at as well as other lakes. For example, while talking to two fishermen, Luke was able to help them because they were unaware of sucker meat's effectiveness with mackinaw.
After my big struggle, my hole is quiet. No more bites for me while Luke
and Glenn end up with our limit of six mackinaw.
Several hours have passed. We load up our equipment, and Luke dumps the fish
onto the snow. They writhe about, their gills sucking at the air. With the
solid end of the ice scooper, Luke softly raps each fish in the head. It is
a lot easier to kill the fish with a conk to the head rather than letting
them suffocate. They twitch as their fins perk up and fall stiff. I feel relief
since I expected a more violent death for the fish. Finally, with everything
loaded, we go to the trucks.
Glenn and Spud climb into their blue Ford 150 and say goodbye as Luke and I drive back to Pueblo. We get back a little before sunset. Luke gives me his fish. Surprised and grateful, I accept the four speckled green mackinaw. When I get home, I think about all the tips and suggestions, which will prepare me for my next trip. Holding the four fish, I think to myself that it was an easy and relatively clean trip until I realize that I have never gutted a fish before.