-8 Celsius, 3" of Snow, 1000 Calories Burned

As I made my way to my favourite Georgian Bay stream this morning, I watched the outdoor temperature reading steadily countdown to a bone chilling minus 8 degrees Celsius. The river bank wore a coat of white and the treetops sagged under the weight of fresh snow. As I stepped out of the car, the crisp, cold air jarred my senses and I was in awe of this winter wonderland. The wildlife was still asleep, or perhaps it was just too cold to move. I was pleased to see that my tracks would be the first to be imprinted on the powder canvas, as I made my way to the places I was dreaming of just a few hours ago.

I made my way through the dense brush, under and over fallen timber and overhanging branches, and hung on to anything within reach to avoid sliding down the steep icy bank. The river's bitter cold permeated the polypropylene, polyester and woolen layers as I stood thigh deep in water. Ice in the guides foiled any attempt at a perfect drift.

Moments before I was to turn into a snowman, my float meandered it's way down my favourite drift and began to twitch midway through. It paused momentarily and slipped under the surface. I knew it could be nothing else, and I raised my rod in exhaltation and the pulsing weight resonated through the graphite and into my arms. A flashing, irridescent beauty tumbled through the air, and all else was forgotten.

-8 degrees Celsius, three inches of snow, one thousand calories burned and one fiery hot fish to show for it - another superb day.