Hello readers! It’s been a minute. I’ve really missed writing my column, but I’m happy to report my wife Anna is doing well as we navigate her cancer treatments. It requires a day-at-a-time mentality, but Anna’s doctors remain optimistic she will make a full, cancer-free recovery, and that’s what we’re focused on. There are ebbs and flows in Anna’s treatment, and we recently got to enjoy a long weekend in the mountains while Anna was feeling well. I caught an awesome fish during the trip, so I had to write about it!
Our story begins at Payette Lake in McCall, where I set out to target big Mackinaw trout through the ice with two of my best fishing buddies, Caleb and Randal. While our handful of previous trips produced only smallish Mackinaws, spirits were high. Lake trout fishing has improved in recent years thanks to efforts by Idaho Fish and Game (namely removing small lake trout and increasing the Kokanee population, leaving more food for fewer Mackinaw), and it felt like we were due for a big one.
About 90 minutes into the morning, Randal got us started with a bite on one of his dead bait rods. The shout of “Flag!” echoing across the ice always gets the blood pumping—as does running 75 yards in snowshoes to help out. We landed his 24-inch fish in relatively short order. Not a giant, but as we like to say, a fish, is a fish, is a fish! Not long afterwards, Randal iced another Mackinaw, jigging up a 20-incher. My rods remained quiet, with no takes on the dead baits and not a single fish showing up on my flasher.
That changed around 11:30, when I saw a fish chase my tube jig from the bottom. The fish bit, but I missed the hookset. Those moments can be devastating, especially during a low-volume trophy hunt. Minutes later, I watched Caleb gesticulate in frustration 100 yards away. I couldn’t hear him, but I didn’t need to—I knew he’d suffered a similar heartbreak.
I kept jigging, but I dialed Caleb to swap stories. I had just started telling him how my fish materialized from the bottom to swipe at my lure when the exact same thing happened.
“Just like that!” I yelled, setting the hook into something heavy.
Smaller lake trout have a habit of waiting until they are almost to the surface before taking off on a powerful run. But this fish started bulldogging right away, peeling line off my 39-inch Frostbite Deadbolt ice rod with ease. Randal arrived, camera phone rolling, and could immediately tell this fish was different.
“It’s a tank!” he yelled.
I settled in for a long battle. In these moments, the things you did to prep beforehand—investing in good tackle, tying perfect knots, spooling up with high-quality fluorocarbon—pay off. All that’s left to do is fight the fish with patience and care. Easier said than done when the biggest catch of your ice fishing career is hooked up! But we remained calm, and after some drag-burning runs and heavy headshakes, I could tell we were starting to win.
One of the Mackinaw’s many nicknames is the burp shark. They have a unique ability to release air from their swim bladders, which helps them avoid getting the bends when you bring one up from 80 feet deep. After a tug-of-war that lasted more than 12 minutes, my fish sent up an impressive trail of burp bubbles, and we chuckled with anticipation.
And then, finally, we saw a massive set of toothy, white jaws at the surface. Randal reached in, expertly secured the fish, and we celebrated a sweet victory as it joined us topside. Measuring 35 inches long with a huge girth, the fish weighed nearly 16 pounds, surpassing the 11-pounder I caught at Bear Lake as my new personal best through the ice. After photos and high-fives, we released this mighty Mack and sent her back to the deep.
We fished into the afternoon, and while we only got one more bite, it was worth the effort. Caleb was up next, and he one-upped my lunker with a 38-inch giant that ranks as the fattest fish I’ve ever seen in person! I helped him land his fish exactly one hour after I caught mine—a scene eerily reminiscent of our tiger muskie adventure in the mountains a few summers back.
Catching a huge fish is always rewarding, but to have it be such a beautiful Mackinaw—capping an ice season where trips have been few and far between—felt especially sweet. Topping that fish won’t be easy, but at deep and mysterious Payette Lake, it is certainly possible. I can’t wait to try. Tight lines!