Coyote-Iced Pike - 2/07/11 - Written by Mike Ladue

A coyote on the River in front of Carleton Island

A 36" Pike Mike caught over to Three Mile Bay

An Outdoorsman’s view on the River 
Mike Ladue is a Cape Vincent resident who observes and writes about river life.

The River is now a white expanse, covered in snow with few open spots. Activity has picked up, as various bodies ply the surface for different reasons. Every day brings a fresh view as the mounding snow fall changes, in dept and consistency. I have ventured out onto the River and over by the lake these past two weeks, to enjoy the “hard water”.

I have been watching in the evening for the predators to make an appearance, from my cabin window. A few coyotes have braved the open space over the River, with caution. They do not like human interaction and fly like a bolt of lightening when they see someone. A grey shadow will appear over the snow like an apparition, where a moment before nothing existed. The dark shadow eases along testing the wind and sniffing the surface. Often the coyote will crane its head over its shoulder to make sure that it is alone.

As I was grilling some dinner one afternoon near sunset, I could hear the train on the mainland of Canada. The whistle blew as the train crossed roads and the lonesome echo made its way to my ears. Soon a chorus of barking erupted from the west end of Carleton Island. I do not know if the coyotes were responding to the train (as some dogs do). Their vocal excitement was answered by another pack of coyotes near the middle of the island. Barking continued to be exchanged for several minutes. Maybe one group had taken an animal and was willing to share it. The barking may have been a way to herd a deer into a vulnerable situation where the coyotes would have the upper hand. Perhaps one pack was encroaching on the other and it was a warning to keep their distance. The actual motivation is only know by the coyotes and I am left to wonder.

A couple of Saturday’s back it was a bright sunny morning, when a lone coyote wandered into view. It was meandering about and took a seat on the snow, to absorb some of the sunlight. A light breeze parted the long wispy winter coat, on its back. This coyote showed no concern or effort to go anywhere else. From time to time it got up to chose a different spot to sit, coming nearer the shore line. I may have gotten an opportunity to photograph it, given enough time. When next I looked a pair of ice fishermen were leaving shore and the sun absorbing shadow had vanished into thin air.

These fishermen set some tip-ups and were joined by three dogs. The dogs raced behind the four wheeler each time a flag snapped into the wind, to signal a “fish on”. After watching the activity for an hour and an increasing rise in temperature, I got the itch to go myself. I packed my portable shanty and jig poles to head over to Three Mile Bay, to enjoy a mild afternoon. It was too nice a day to spend inside looking out!

A dozen folks were on the ice a few hundred yards out. I pulled my shanty to a spot near them, after a very “warm stretch of the legs”. Once I had the black structure erected, I had increased my body temperature, enough to cause steam to rise from my neckline. I shed my outer garments, set up two jig poles and commenced to fish. The sun was beaming down and it was warm and comfortable in the little space. A few perch began to cooperate and I was starting to smell them in a fry pan, no really! It was not my imagination, a group of anglers to my north, (upwind) were cooking bacon and eggs. I began to think that their real occupation was that of “professional tormenters”. While they enjoyed a hot meal I picked up my jigging pace in an attempt to relieve some frustration. As a matter of fact I was using both poles just a jigging the daylights out of em! It is hard to fish when your mouth is watering and your nose is wandering. “Come on fish! Come on! I need a nice big perch”…

The old jig pole in my right hand took a dive towards the black hole, over which it dangled. I dropped the other pole from my left hand. Grasping the small spool of four pound test, I let loose the plastic nut that holds the jig at depth. The two foot rod end bounced, as I let line free spool following some toothy critter, which I was sure to loose. Suddenly my mouth had dried up and I was no longer suffering from aroma saturation. Now my mind was focused on seeing just what was clamped onto the perch jig.

Line went out, the fish shook, I reeled in and we replayed the sequence again and again. Each time it came nearer the black hole. I saw a black dotted green tail; it was that of a good northern… Wow! Fortunately for me some fellow anglers were near by and I hollered to see if they might have a gaff. One of them went to search near his tip-ups for it, while his partners came over to coach me. “Don’t bring it close to the hole, you will loose it!” I said: “It is already here at the hole resting, the jig is just in the corner of its mouth.” After five minutes the gaff arrived and the fellow missed his first attempt. A flash of tail and a gust of speed sent the pike to the bottom to sulk.

I slowly regained the line to the spool and the large head of a 36” northern was just below the ices rim. This time “Beaver” cinched the deal and hoisted the fish clear onto the ice. I thanked him and his companions for the assistance, had they not been there the outcome would have been much different. The perch fishing picked up and I was able to secure enough for two meals. I turned the pike into some thin jerky and made a batch of pickled pike that is the best I have ever made (myself). While it is nice to sit in a warm cabin to watch the activity of others, you can’t beat the excitement of participating! Go enjoy the outdoors in winter; we have just a short time left…