Back when the establishment aimed to mold the mush, which was our brains, we acquiesced to a system of ranking, the bell curve. On the big bulging top sat the majority, America’s rank and file. On the distant right rested the underachievers, alleged druggies and drop-outs. To the left – oh, the left – were those bell-curve-busting-bastards who never dated, but killed on test day and made everyone else seem, well…average.

 Ice fishing has a bell curve, too.

 The broad curve represents the weekend angler, the mainstream, Joe Recreation. They own the shanties in Shantyville. To the right we find the novices, and, sadly, the clueless. They choose spots, lures, beer and breakfast cereals without reason.

 And to the left…those are the innovators; brilliant nonconformists who fish against the grain, finding prosperity in lonely, oftentimes bizarre places. That’s your Brian “Bro” Brosdahl, a member of ice fishing’s foremost think tank, Ice Team.

 Bro, as he’s known, pinpoints and plucks more walleyes and pike in a season than most do in a lifetime, afterlife included. Recently, to stay in front of the curve, Bro’s been banging the shallows to perfect a pattern, substantiating that silverback predators don’t always roam deep reefs and suspend o'er the bowels of the lake.

The Inner Jungle...or what’s left, anyway

 Bro’s shallow hog-pattern ordains at first ice. Remnants of the fall phenomenon persist. Walleyes and pike raid surviving greens and forage with tenacity. The particular pastures he picks were ridiculously thick in summer, in fact, veritably unfishable. In the fall, though, they’re often thinned to perfection.

 Where weeds persist is largely dictated by autumn’s prevailing winds. In late fall, when vegetation is frailest, a stiff gale and chop breaks, bends and uproots vegetation. So Bro looks leeward, finding some of the richest greens on the sheltered backside of shoreline points. Wind protected bays also provide safe haven for salad. Little lakes have built-in defense against salad tossing. Hurtful waves simply don’t develop on small water.

 Bro says that not all vegetation need be showroom quality, though. Stems that are arched but not flattened offer false sanctuary for prey. He’s witnessed, via the Aqua-Vu underwater camera, crayfish and perch tuck under a bandshell of weeds, only to be expunged by clever walleyes.

 One of my personal favorite first-ice destinations is a diminished but qualified bed of coontail and curly leaf pondweed on an outwardly average lake. By summer, it holds more stalks, leaves, and 14-inch bass than I care to consider. In autumn, though, the weeds dwindle but don’t disappear, and walleyes trespass en masse. Inside pockets hold fish, as does the 8 to 10 foot outside edge.

No Paper Moon or Paper Tigers

 The whole business about fishing the moon phases – full and new – got ink unimaginable during fishing’s awakening in the 80’s and 90’s. Vektor Table this and Solunar Table that. We bought into it like tech stocks. Well, after the hype and snowflakes settled, I’ve come to realize that there might be something more to the moon than cheese.

 Spending time on the ice with Bro is quite convincing. He espouses the moon’s influence, and proves its merit from ice-over to ice-out. The New Moon is his gig. The partial-week period coincides with the majority of his big fish catches. The preponderance of the beasts are taken in the shallows, too.

 Consider the walleye. Its physiology begets low-light and nighttime feeding. Under New Moon illumination, however, even a walleye cannot function. Blackness is blackness. Ask an owl.

 So to satisfy the craving, walleyes are compelled to feed by day. The New Moon’s power is compelling, nonetheless. Activity levels are noticeably high, but overnight forays are cancelled. The day bite is on, and often in extraordinarily shallow water. “Stuff’s happening,” says Bro. The weeds come alive. Crayfish wander carelessly and invertebrates animate, summoning feeder-sized fish. On certain lakes, even delectable tullibee and whitefish leave the abyss to rifle through shallow weeds. The Aqua-Vu doesn’t lie...

 Last winter, his heftiest catches fell into this pattern. Bro was plumbing an enormous and vegetated flat on Lake of the Woods. Arctic Warriors were in place. (Clam Corp’s Arctic Warrior is tip-up hybrid, which combines a conventional rod and reel with a flag.) A walleye drew first blood, a bonafide six pounder. The sunshine-eye was followed by a flag and fan, a miss. Bro lowered the camera. Moments later a juicy tullibee skated into the six foot deep panorama. Its emergence was followed by a “poof” of sand: a prehistoric pike skulked with a tailfin in the corner of its jaw.

 Bro’s jaw dropped. He responded by dropping a giant Lindy Rattl’r Spoon and sucker minnow head. Seconds later the treble hook was straightened and expletives filled the placid Canadian air. The strongest steel wouldn’t hoist this fish. On the upstroke, the ghost fish was supervened by a 16 pounder, another New Mooner, this one getting the digital scale treatment and subsequent release.

 The inverse is true, too. I, for one, have seen the Full Moon trigger shallow night bites where ordinarily there’s none. On another of my faves, a relatively clear water, jumbo perch preside over the day and walleyes subsidize at dawn and dusk. It’s a phenomenal perchery, but average walleye producer. Auspiciously, a Full Moon further enhances perch vivacity and springboards the walleyes. Six foot sand and gravel that isn’t coded for night bites, suddenly blossoms in the moonlight. Walleyes inhale shiners. Bobbers plunge. The night is uncharacteristically busy, and the glowing orb is largely to blame.

Big Structure in Skinny Places

 Big fish covet big structure. Not all that’s large and desirable need be deeper than Atlantis, either. Clusters of boulders and Lincoln Log configurations yield adequate harborage for both predators and prey. Bro owns GPS coordinates for several suchlike locations.

 His best rock spots feature “human skull” boulders; are trimmed by gravel; and set near deep water. Shoreline points and rock veins are the principal candidates.

 Super-shallow rocks hold court on predominately weedy lakes, too. Once the weeds go, fish of all sizes flow to the rocks. Some rocks are exposed all year, but equally as many are shrouded by vegetation during the summer, becoming undressed in the fall and winter.

 Timber acts similarly, says Bro. Leftovers from logging’s heydays mark the bottoms of northern lakes. According to Bro, even a “haystack” of three or four jumbo logs qualifies as structure. Flooded shoreline timber, planted fish cribs, and beaver dam operations also warrant investigation.  

 As with all aquatic environments, if a fish has food, cover, and oxygen, it has a home. The extreme shallows included.