Walking on Water

PABLO RESERVOIR — Dick Zimmer and I got out of our vehicles and faced the gusting wind and blowing snow of February’s most recent storm on the dike at the east end of Pablo Reservoir.

I had called Zimmer a few weeks prior, during the last cold snap, and told him that I wanted to go ice fishing. Our schedules (and the weather) finally cooperated.

Being from Virginia, I had only walked over frozen bodies of water once or twice in my life, and never more than knee deep. Pablo Reservoir is about 25 feet at its deepest. If you go in, you’re swimming.

But that thought was only in my head the first five or 10 steps out onto the ice. The rest of our 400-yard hike to Zimmer’s chosen spot, I was more concerned with not slipping and breaking my tailbone.

Lucky for me, I was with the best.

Nicknamed “the Macman,” Zimmer and his wife, Paula, make their livelihood on fishing. His Pablo-based Zimmer Tackle supplies most of the county’s convenience stores with bait. He also manufactures his own lures and is to be one of the most knowledgeable fishermen in the Mission Valley.

Zimmer has his ice fishing routine down to a science.

We were looking for water around 20 feet deep, preferably around some good weed beds. That’s where Zimmer said perch tend to hang out this time of year (though to our surprise, we later saw some suspended just a few feet below the ice).

He drilled a hole or two in the 10-inch-thick ice before we found the spot he wanted.

“This is probably the richest and most consistent fishery in the area,” Zimmer said of Pablo Reservoir, noting that its consistent water depth throughout the year and relatively high algae content—presumably due to its designation as a waterfowl refuge. Pablo has some monster perch.

Zimmer’s tackle of choice, of course, is one of his own. We ran his Trilobite (named for the prehistoric marine arthropod) lures with double treble hooks, baiting them nightcrawlers, and a suspended hook a few inches up the line.

It was a change of pace from the cast-and-reel bass fishing I grew up doing, and once we were holed up in Zimmer’s ice house—a genius design combining a sled and canvas tent—with his space heater, it was darn cozy.

It was slow going at first. Zimmer pulled a few fish out but I only had one tiny perch through the first hour or so. But when Zimmer got out to hunt for another spot, I pulled four fish in in a matter of minutes.

We caught little fish throughout the afternoon, changing locations once, but we never got much in the way of keeper-sized perch. Zimmer sent me home with some tiny filets anyway, and they were enough for a pretty solid meal.

I didn’t think I’d particularly like ice fishing. I don’t really like freezing my tail off. But as an outdoorsman who is hard-pressed to get outside in the Montana winter, I can see the appeal.