Overlooked Under-Ice Jumbo Perch Runs

Fog rolled in overnight, making the F headlamp useless during the long walk out on the ice. Fine by me. 

- Mike Fitzgerald

I am following a well-defined trail in hardened snow, a trail packed by many trips dragging a sled full of essentials. If I do step off, I may find myself knee deep in slush, so I do take my time.

If it were earlier in the season, I might look to the west and see dozens of headlamps or the fast-paced lights from snow machines and ATV's ripping out to get a prime spot before the morning walleye bite. The big girls-the ones that migrated in to spawn here and up the many rivers that drain into here-had started trickling in months ago. They usually show up in vast schools just before safe ice, and those who dare to get out on a thin skim often have those fish to themselves.

However, it's February, and the remaining walleye have just about seen it all. That's also fine by me, because I'm not there for walleye. I'm focused on another great yet very under utilized fishery that follows the walleyes.

The app on my phone tells me I'm over a mud flat under 22 feet of water. The flat is 150 yards long and varies in width, surrounded by dense gravel on all sides. This is where I want to be because this is where the jumbo yellow perch want to be. I use the term "jumbo" because a 14-inch fish is common out here and the possibility of a 16-incher is very real. In the spring there's a commercial season for them, and fishermen who take part in it speak of perch so big they are mistaken for smallmouth bass at first glance.

I believe it, too.

The biggest I've landed was a 15.2 inch monster as fat as a football, released to fight another day. More common are 10to 12-inch fish that, by February, school in numbers that can easily top 100 fish.

Seeing that kind of school hovering off bottom on a graph is enough to get my blood flowing, and it usually means fish tacos are on the bill for later that day.