What can I say? I've long regarded ice fishing as--how can I put this--the stupidest sport on earth. I don't want to spend a lot of time defending my reasons (cold, boring, pointless, cold, boring, cold …) but suffice it to say I hate ice fishing and ice fishing hates me.

The above stated has been my long-standing opinion, which I formed shortly after birth and have carried with me for roughly 23 years. Until today. Today I caught a fish.

Many fish, to be precise. Despite my aforementioned deep dislike for ice fishing, Dave and I headed out from Wasagamack this morning bound and determined to avoid the "cold," "boring" and "pointless" themes that seemed to characterize all of our previous attempts at ice fishing. With us, we brought two secret weapons: (1) bait, and (2) some local guys who knew where the fish were. I can't emphasize enough how invaluable both of these were.

We met Jamie and Martin (the two local guys) last week. They both seemed prone to sudden fits of giggling after we told them we fished all day on Willow Lake without a single catch. Must be Canadian humor. At any rate, they agreed to take us back to Willow Lake today and make sure we had our hooks tied on right.

By the end of the day Dave and I had caught 15 fish: 11 Walleye (called Pickerel in Canada) and four Northern Pike (called Jackfish or Jacks up here). OK--Dave is telling me I have to write that he caught 10 fish and I caught five. Thank you, Dave. There is no "I" in team. The point is we caught fish.

So that's it. I guess ice fishing may be just a little less boring, a little less pointless than I previously thought (It's still cold; I was right about that.). And who knows? When we're treating ourselves to an all-you-can-eat fish fry tomorrow, I might just declare ice fishing the greatest sport on earth. I'll let you know what happens.