Ice fishing. It’s been the butt of so very many jokes.
A man goes out ice fishing one morning. He reaches the ice and is about to cut a hole in it when he hears a booming voice from above: “THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.”
Opinion
The fisherman is shocked, but he moves ten feet away and starts to cut another hole.
The voice booms again: “THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE.”
He moves to a third spot and starts cutting. The voice shouts, “I’M TELLING YOU, THERE ARE NO FISH UNDER THE ICE!”
The fisherman looks up and shouts, “God? Is that you?”
The voice replies, “NO, THIS IS THE MANAGER OF THE ICE RINK!”
Indeed, those of us who enjoy the long stretches of great peace, punctuated by moments of heart-stopping excitement, are sometimes vilified even by our own kind. The pipe-smoking, tweed-wearing dry-fly puritans turn up their noses when we break out the mealworms to bait our little pink jigs. In the social structure of the angling community, we are one step below the sucker meat baitcasters and one very small step above the catfish noodlers. We are the pariahs of fishing in flyover country.
But do we care? We do not. After the elk hunt draws to its inevitable conclusion, we wait with keen anticipation and freshly sharpened ice augers for the nearby lakes and reservoirs to freeze. Here on the Llano de Laramie, we are usually on the ice by late November or early December. The fishing persists through January and February and we are out there every chance we get.
And this year, the chances were in short supply. The many lakes on the Laramie Plains and surrounding areas were almost never iced in. One or two half-hearted cold snaps resulted in a transparent film that wouldn’t support the weight of a deer mouse, much less an ice angler. And then, a day or two later, the sun would come out and the wind would pick up and there was nothing but open water again, as far as the eye could see. It was maddening. But more than that, it was deeply troubling.
My WyoFile colleague Mike Koshmrl recently chronicled the grim news. In short, the 2025-26 winter was the warmest since recordkeeping began in the Cowboy State. Laramie was no exception. Temperatures here from December through February were anywhere between 7 and 10 degrees above normal, sometimes higher. At 7,220 feet in elevation, the Gem City of the Plains is known for its severe winters. But this year, it was that winter that never was.
For anglers, that’s a pretty big deal. But for the fish we love, it’s a much bigger deal. Nearly every body of water we fish in the wintertime is designed to store water from snowmelt and then release it in the spring and summer months for agricultural, municipal and other uses. If the snowpack is inadequate (it’s currently at about 66%of normal in the Laramie River Basin) then there isn’t enough water to go around. Worse yet, from a fish’s point of view, reduced flows in the streams and rivers mean higher temperatures and reduced oxygen in the water. The result: dead fish.
The bottom line is that climate change is real, and it is upon us now. Back when I had a real day job, I worked for America’s foremost trout and salmon conservation outfit, Trout Unlimited. They’ve done a ton of work on climate change, not only on the disastrous effects it may have on water in the interior West, but on ways individuals and communities can get involved in this issue. Check it out here.
In many ways, the trout we fish for here in Wyoming are the canaries in the coal mine. They’re indicators of the impact of climate change on the natural world, and right now, the signs aren’t looking good. The last decade has recorded some of the hottest years ever across the West. Most of Wyoming is in serious drought, and we’re seeing less winter snowpack, earlier runoff and more catastrophic wildfires. This isn’t just about fish. It’s about every living thing across Wyoming.
I love to sit in my warm little ice hut on a cold winter day with a couple of close friends or family members and fish, while the Wyoming wind howls and the sun peers dimly through the maelstrom. I love to sit and solve the world’s problems and eat my sandwiches and drink my coffee. But much, much more, I would love for my grandchildren to have that same experience. Unless we make some changes — and pretty darn quickly — I fear they will not.
I think it was Bill McKibben who said: Sunlight travels 93 million miles to reach Earth. None of those miles are through the Strait of Hormuz.
“Unless we make some changes — and pretty darn quickly — I fear they will not.”
This statement is universal in the climate change community.
What changes? “Alternatives” pollute just as much as fossils, in the case of Nuclear possibly more. Funny how Tesla, champion of the environmental Left was kicked to the curb over it’s owner and politics. Like they realized it was simply a grift the entire time. Even Bill; Gates, now backs away from alarming predictions as he seeks to build Nuclear plants for his AI control grid.
I suggest people watch a documentary called “Planet of the Humans” produced by Michael Moore to get the truth on “alternative” energy.
If humans are even somewhat causing climate change, NOTHING can be done “pretty darn quick” to reverse it.
A start ”pretty damn quick” is a helluva lot better than no start at all! Much better than state politicians saying C02 isn’t a greenhouse gas. National/State leaders saying ‘Burn more coal!’ ‘We don’t need no damn alternative energy sources!
Thanks for your continued voice in support of Wyoming’s wildlife and wild places Walt! I live along the Hoback now and have used my snowblower once this winter, mostly because the idea of not using it at all was ultimately unacceptable. It is March 19 and it is expected to reach 65 today! The catkins on the aspen trees are starting to pop and I have crocuses blooming. As my old joke of almost 10 years goes. “Think about how bad it would be if climate change were real? ” People can ignore the truth for very long periods of time but truth has a way of winning out in the end.