The family was sitting around the firelight on a late October night, not much else to do. I had recently attended a seminar on laboratory medicine where the opening speaker had urged us to decide what we wanted to do during our lifetimes.

“I want everyone in the room to take ten minutes to write down everything that you would like to do at some time during your life.”

“Now look at that list and ask yourself this question, What am I waiting for?”

As we sat there that evening, I proposed the same exercise. We each took our turns announcing our dreams to the sound of much laughter and “I’d like to do that.” As the list grew, I announced that I would like, at some time, to go ice fishing. I knew people that had and enjoyed it a bunch but I didn’t have the equipment and I wasn’t about to buy it for one run at something I didn’t know anything about.

A couple of years later, one of my coworkers was telling me about his successes on his last ice fishing trip. It reminded me of that night. That weekend there was a locally produced fishing show that talked about guided trips to Lake Granby. I wrote down the name of the guide and decided to attend the upcoming Sportsman’s Expo in Denver.

The expo was crowded with all manner of booths. I could buy new fishing gear, boats, hunting gear, portable toilets, you name it. In addition, there were many guided trips. I could go to Canada or Alaska for a one week fishing trip for salmon, or take a hunting trip for elk, deer, moose, or (insert game animal here). I found a couple of guides that did fishing trips but not ice fishing. I was getting discouraged and the families’ feet were getting tired. I told them to meet me in the lobby while I made a pass down the last isle.

I had no sooner parted company with them and started down the isle when I was looking at a movie of the same fishing trip I had seen on TV. I stopped at the booth and, sure enough, it was the exact guide service I had been looking for, Toknow Guide Service. Steve, the guide, and I discussed the cost of a one day trip to Granby and struck up a deal to meet him one Saturday in late February.

My son and I headed up for a overnight hotel stay in Frasier, Colorado so that we could meet him at seven the next morning. My son was a little apprehensive about being out in the middle of a lake on ice but cold feet aside we headed out to meet Steve. He was waiting for us with the snowmobile out and the ice shelter in tow behind it. He took me out first and I explained my son’s concerns about the ice and also that he might be a little apprehensive about the ride on the snowmobile. We headed out from the house onto the ice, GPS in his hand. After a couple of minutes he slowed and watched the GPS. After a couple of hesitations he stopped and peered at it. Nope, not quite there. He revved it up and circled around to stop again. I swear we were within 20 feet of where he stopped before but this was the spot. He unloaded the shelter and took off to pick up my son. It was kind of a wild ride getting here and I figured my son would be white knuckling it when they arrived.; wrong- overprotective father. Here they came with my son laughing up a storm like he was on a six flags rollercoaster. Dad, that was WAY cool.

On the lake you hear constant crackling sounds. Steve explained that this was natural and we would want to worry if we didn’t hear them. At this time the ice is 18 inches thick and could easily hold a semi. We set up the shelter, broke out the auger and drilled our ice hole. Once drilled, he dropped the fish finder transponder in the hole and explained what we were seeing.

“This line indicates the bottom.” He raised and lowered the lure. “Did you see the second line? That is our lure. If anything else shows up, that is our fish.”

We marveled at the technology as he showed us how slow to raise and lower the lure. He suddenly told my son to set the hook which he quickly did. Fish on. We had hardly warmed up the seats. My son landed the Lake Trout that measured about 16 inches and weighed about three pounds. Steve asked if we wanted to keep it. He went on to explain that no matter how many we caught, he would prefer we didn’t keep more than four. The reason was to maintain the fishery. That was fine with us. Back to watching the fish finder and setting the hooks. We got pretty good at watching for that hesitation when the line should be going down or feeling the gentle tug as it was taken by the fish. We would continue to fish until noon when we decided to call it a day and head home. Things had slowed a bunch but we had caught and kept four fish and released twelve others. The six ranged from 16 to 20 inches. Steve decided to try one more thing before we packed up and left.

“I don ‘t know if you have noticed but there is a pretty good size fish that keeps appearing way above the bottom. Are you willing to go after him?“ My son told me to take a shot so Steve refreshed the bait and dropped it about 15 feet. We could see the bait on the fish finder and I worked it slowly. Suddenly he appeared. He went by it twice before I felt the strike. I set the hook and fought in the biggest Laker of the day. No it wasn’t a monster, and Granby does have some. He was 22 inches and about 5 pounds. Unfortunately he was hooked deep and we couldn’t release him. Steve cleaned up the five fish we had and packaged them for the ride home. He also gave us a bottle of “Steve’s Seasoning” which is a rub he stole from his brother who won the Taste of Colorado contest with it.

So it was a wonderful day and one to scratch off the list. Seventeen lake trout was way beyond my expectation. It was evident that Steve knew what he was doing as a guide. What a great memory.

Enjoy your Treasured Pasts and don’t forget to live your dream.

Stuart