Looking back through my years in the outdoors, I can recall just one thoroughly calamitous ice fishing trip. Still, before it was over, there was a silver lining — a redemptive interlude that sticks with me to this day.
It happened at Seboeis Lake in late February.
A February thaw had set in and, after a good day of fishing, we were heading down the lake at dusk on our way back to camp.
That’s when we hit the slush fields.
Hidden beneath a crust of snow on the ice were pockets of water. Our snowmobiles, towing heavily loaded tote sleds, broke through the crust. We gunned the machines, trying to break free and climb back onto the surface crust. No joy.
Soon the snowmobiles and slush-covered sleds ground to a halt. We were bogged down in ice water and going nowhere. The slush was a cold, watery mush about a foot deep.
There was plenty of solid ice underneath, but it was a real snare for machines hauling gear. Once you broke through the crust, you were stuck.
You don’t dare leave your sleds overnight in conditions like that. By morning they would freeze solid and you might never get them out.
We were young men then, which was a good thing. Standing knee-deep in ice water, pushing and pulling heavy gear is heart-attack city.
The process was slow and miserable. We disconnected the sled, unloaded the gear, then dragged everything piece by piece onto solid ice. Only then could we try to free the snowmobile and move it ahead.
In time, with a team effort, we managed to free everything and drag our exhausted, water-soaked bodies out of that hell as darkness closed in around us.
Later that evening, back at camp with a warming fire, an Irish coffee and a steaming bowl of homemade scallop stew, we were reminded that the best part of ice fishing is what comes after — the toddy, the food and the warm camp.
What is it about hard work and physical discomfort that makes good food such a memorable experience? Scallop stew has not — and never will — taste as good as it did after that punishing day struggling through the slush fields of Seboeis Lake.
There is philosophy in a well-made soup: it does not persuade, it consoles.
Next to scallop stew, a well-made venison stew fills the bill after a hard day in the Maine outdoors. The recipe follows in case you are planning an ice fishing trip and want to bring along a consolation prize.
Papa’s Venison Stew
Ingredients:
1 to 2 pounds chunked wild meat
1 cup flour (seasoned with salt and pepper)
1 packet McCormick pot roast seasoning mix
8 to 10 baby potatoes
½ large sweet onion, chopped
1½ cups low-sodium beef broth
1 package baby carrots
3 dashes Worcestershire sauce
1 tablespoon sugar
1 teaspoon minced garlic
1 teaspoon lemon juice
¾ cup red wine
Directions:
Place the meat in a large zip-lock bag with the seasoned flour. Shake the bag until the meat is evenly coated.
Heat a large cast-iron frying pan with olive oil and a small amount of butter. Brown the meat on both sides over medium heat.
Transfer the browned meat to a large crock pot.
Deglaze the frying pan with 1 cup of very hot water and pour the drippings over the meat in the crock pot.
Mix the pot roast seasoning with 1 cup of hot water and add it to the crock pot. Add the potatoes, onion and carrots.
Stir in the Worcestershire sauce, sugar, garlic, lemon juice, red wine and beef broth. Add additional hot water if needed so the liquid just covers the meat and vegetables.
Cook on high for 7 to 8 hours.