Yesterday, seeing as the weather warmed up enough to be tolerable for longer than 10 minute intervals, my roommates decided that we should all go ice fishing. Now, despite living in prime ice fishing territory all of my life (Michigan/Minnesota) I had never gone myself. To be honest, I was pretty skeptical at first, since I figured it’d just be sitting around a hole while shivering profusely. In that regard, I wasn’t all too far off, but I still enjoyed it far more than I thought I would. Yet still, in 3.5 hours, I had yet to catch anything, whereas everyone else had. As we were preparing to leave, a flag shot off in the distance on one of the rigs we had set up, and I sprinted across the lake bed after it. Despite losing my previous four fish, this time I would not be denied. The only walleye of the day was hauled in five minutes before we left, the perfect way to cap off the day.