Buck sat on his folding stool in the middle of Long Pond and lit his pipe. He had just drilled six holes in the foot thick ice with a hand auger, baited six lines and set a tip-up at each hole. When he was younger this was easy work but at the age of seventy five he found that it was becoming quite a chore. He looked out across the lake and was pleased to note that he was the only fisherman on the ice that morning. He enjoyed the solitude that came with ice fishing and was especially happy on those days when he was truly alone with his thoughts. No radios blaring across the ice and no cell phones or pagers with their obnoxious, high pitched beeping would disturb him on this day. His wife of fifty years, Emma, had packed his lunch the previous evening and Buck had filled his thermos with a combination of coffee and Irish Mist that morning. He was set for a relaxing day of fishing.

Buck hadn't always been a solitary fisherman. He had once enjoyed fishing with a group of friends. They had been known as 'The Hole In The Ice Gang' back then. It was up untill six or seven years ago that on winter weekends, when the ice was thick enough, you would find the gang gathered on the ice at Lake Colby. Looking back, it occured to Buck what a strange group this really was. There was Peanut, who lacked about an inch of qualifying as a midget and was the only person Buck had ever seen who could break a bottle and chew and swallow the glass. Peanut would do this anytime there was someone around who would watch. To curb this repulsive behavior the gang had banned glass bottles during the outings and only brought aluminum cans of beer.

Then there was Eggplant and Beast, veritable giants, who were once well known tag team wrestlers. This was before wrestling became repopularized by W.W.F.W. and those other initialized organizations now popular on the wrestling channel. They enjoyed singing duets in loud, boisterous, voices after tipping a few aluminum cans. Their forte was singing t.v. commercials but they could also yodel loud enough to cause complaints from fishermen three miles up the lake. No one dared, however, to come close enough to make a face-to-face complaint. They would just move further up the lake and drill new holes, pausing once in a while to make an obscene comment in their general direction.

The quietest of the group was Wacky, who had made a name for himself in scientific circles by patenting a toilet which, employing a means of molecular reconstruction, converts the waste into a material which can be molded into biodegradable lawn ornaments. During the winter these sculptures, molded into the likeness of frogs, cherubs, etc., dissolve and the result is a rich, green, fertile lawn. These toilets can be found in many of the new trailers and mobile homes. Often you will see one of these trailers parked along the highway with an assortment of the lawn sculptures placed neatly in front for sale. The next time you see one stop and pick one up. They are usually reasonably priced. They can also be ordered from priceline.com. Wacky also invented the ill-fated plexiglass fishing shanty, which you will hear more about in a moment.

Perhaps the oddest of the group was Lyle/Lillian, who was a recovering transvestite from New Jersey. Most of the time Lyle/Lillian would appear to be a macho ice fisherman as normal, or perhaps more normal, than the rest of the group. At times, however, he would appear at the fishing site in full drag, which was rather disturbing to the rest of the group. On the occasion of Buck's final involvement with the group Lyle/Lillian appeared in this manner. Lyle/Lillian's ensemble consisted of an off-the-shoulder red floor length gown set off with black sequins. He wore matching red sequined pumps and around his neck he displayed a Tiffany necklace containing a large single black pearl, suspended from a thin chain of platinum. To ward off the Adirondack chill, the outfit was topped off by a silver fox stole from Neiman-Marcus. At his side he carried a matching tackle box from L.L. Bean, filled with assorted fishing lures from Mepps of Wisconsin. Buck thought the Mepps lures were a little tacky.

Buck knew the day was going to be disasterous when Wacky arrived pulling a plexiglass fishing shanty behind his old, flower painted '62 volkswagen van. The process to set up the shack was simple enough; cut a hole the same size as the base of the shanty and push it down into the water as far as possible, then secure it with rope anchored to the ice with pegs. In this manner the participant would climb into the contraption via a hole in the top. Thus situated, the chosen observer could watch the lines from under the ice and call out when a fish was ready to strike. Only one person at a time could fit into the device so they would take turns on duty. Buck drew the first short straw.

The first mistake in the chain of events was to let Peanut drill the holes with the gas-powered auger. As he drilled, the bit stuck in the ice and, unfortunatly, Peanut's gloves had frozen to the handle. The bit couldn't spin so the rest of the auger spun and carried Peanut with it. Later, we figured at around 30,000 rpm's, Peanut's gloves came off. Buck was in the underwater shanty drinking a beer when Peanut hit Eggplant and Beast, who, in turn grabbed Lyle/Lillian's gown. The four of them fell into the opening of the shanty, which usually held only one and under the strain the plexiglass box broke and slowly sank with all hands aboard. Luckily Wacky had his cell phone and called in the Saranac Lake rescue squad who arrived within minutes. After a brief recovery from frostbite everyone went his own way and, as far as Buck knew, all took up new winter hobbies. So, if you should ever see an old guy out on the ice smiling as he fishes just give him a friendly wave and leave him at peace. He deserves it.