Ottawa County women are tough.

The winter morning I ventured out to the local ice fishing scene was a nippy 23 degrees. In pure Michigan fashion, I was thankful for the double digits. The ice on the Eastmanville Bayou on 68^th Avenue near Leonard was solid and punched with holes left by fishermen. Colored shanties dotted the blanketed stretch of frozen river.  

As I walked onto the ice, I was surprised to see women—several women—all actively participating in the quest for fish. There were some without a protective shanty, others coming out of shanties to wrangle young children, and some bundled up, loaded with gear, and headed out to fish in solitude. None looked as though they had been dragged into the cold against their will. Rather, they appeared to be enjoying the family time and the fishing itself.

I spoke with two women who perched atop five-gallon buckets bobbing their short little ice rods above two holes. If you took away their arctic wear with fur-rimmed hoods, insulated boots, and wind-breaking mittens, they could easily have been just two women hanging out at the beach sipping on water bottles. That’s how much they seemed to enjoy and relax in what they were doing.  

As I would find out, one of the women, Savannah, has been ice fishing since she was a little girl. Savannah shared a memory with me:

“I had to have been like 8, 10 years old, maybe a little bit older. My mom, my dad, my brothers, my aunt, my uncle and my two cousins, we took out our quad, and we had shanties, and we went out to Boston Lake. I just remember it being like super dark and bringing in all the fish. We were just running around on the ice. It was one of my earliest memories of ice fishing. We didn't do a whole lot of it, but it was like one of the family things that we actually did do together where I do remember my mom actually coming out because she's not an outdoorsy person.”  

That family element—that was what was noticeable all over the river. Ice fishing is far from being a male-dominated sport. There were entire families, seemingly oblivious to the temperature, who had intentionally chosen ice fishing as a way to spend time together. Dads and moms were fishing and checking their lines while their kids were either doing the same or running around to make their own fun. It almost felt like being in the middle of a campground—minus the campfire. Some had even brought cook stoves.

I asked Nikki, the woman with Savannah, how it was that she started ice fishing:

“I got started through my friends. So, I got lucky. They just call me up or text me and say, ‘Hey, you want to go ice fishing?’ I’m like, Yes!”

Savannah said the ice fishing the last few years has “really stunk.” This year has been far better ice. She added that she likes coming out with her husband, but that she doesn’t usually last as long as he does. “Hence the shanty and heater and snacks,” yelled her husband, who was fishing a little down from the two women.  

Savannah smiled, “Yeah, I have to have the goods when I come out.”