The Brits have a word for it: knackered. Slang for exhausted, but stressed out and/or depressed can also fall under that heading. In December, I had just come off a long period of intensive writing and was feeling at loose ends. I woke up every morning with a pit in my stomach hardly knowing what to do with myself as I awaited feedback from my agent. Writing has always been my escape from the world. Without that, what else was there? (You can only bake so many desserts, even during the holiday season). Then a friend presented me with an unusual invitation: “Come with me to Wisconsin and we’ll go ice-fishing.” I said yes.
My city friends all thought I was insane. Further proof I had become unhinged in coming unmoored from my desk. Everyone else I knew was headed to warmer climes for their holiday getaways. I went to where zero degree temps are considered “mild.” But it was adventure I craved and this would be like none other. So I donned my ear muffs and triple layers of clothing and dove in. What I encountered was beauty beyond compare. Air so cold you could snap it in two. People who think nothing of camping out on a frozen lake for days at a time (okay, they have heated fishing huts, but still). The day I went fishing, me and my pals had the wrong auger for boring, and along comes a helpful “neighbor” with a battery-operated auger who quickly drilled us 3 holes in the foot-thick ice. Then we dropped our lines and…waited. I could see the fish on the sensor but they weren’t biting. Until all of a sudden we had 5 fish. Supper! Justin cleaned and fileted while Jon prepared the flour to dredge the fish in and I made the salad. An hour–and hot bath for me–later, we were sitting down to a delectable fish fry. Nothing tastes better than fish caught from a hole in the ice in freezing temps, believe me. We earned every bite.
I returned home refreshed and rejuvenated. Ready to start the new year. Who knows? My experiences in the frozen wilds of Wisconsin just might make it into a novel down the line.
