I recently went in 50/50 on a new hub style portable ice fishing shelter. The old 2-man I was rocking from the early 90's just wasn't cutting it anymore. But, once I got home with the new shelter, and started practicing setting it up, a very real problem was realized... "How am I going to get this around the lake without a snowmobile?". The old 2-man was easy to deal with in that the floor folded in two and with a snap of a buckle became the sled. But, the problem with the old model was that the "sled" was way too wide and displaced too much snow--making for a nice tiresome snow plow on longer hauls where I had to break trail in deep snow. So, the new hub style would solve that, right? Debatable. It lacked the hard plastic floor the old model had but was a bit too bulky and heavy to carry on its shoulder strap, once dismantled of course. So, after some reflecting a light went on... I'll need to make a pulk sled to haul around the folded up portable shelter, along with ice fishing supplies, food, etc. Aha! This will work.
A pulk (from Finnish word Pulkka), is a nordic style toboggan that's narrow and low-slung and used to haul tents, supplies, cargo, etc. efficiently over the snow for some distances. Pulks typically are pulled by dogs, skiers, snowshoers, or traditionally in Scandinavia, reindeer. Rather than using ropes to pull the sled, pulks utilize rigid poles connected from the sled to the "puller's" harness or belt.
So with an understanding of a pulk, my internet research on how to make one began. I was amazed by the "pulk culture" that exists on-line. Everyone seems to have their own do-it-yourself design they're showing off. Some pulk designs were very simple and others rather bulky and convoluted. Weighing my options, I settled on the "penultimate pulk" design and can highly recommend it for its simplicity, functionality, durability, ease of use, repairability, and price:
http://drpulk.blogspot.com.
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| My homemade pulk loaded up for its maiden voyage in the BWCAW. The wild lakers await it. |
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Generally speaking, this is all I needed to build the pulk for under 100 dollars:
- EMSCO Beast Heavy Duty Expedition Sled
- 3mm Utility Cording from REI
- 4mm Utility Cording from REI
- (2) 1/2"x6' Solid Fiberglass Temporary Electric Fence Posts
- A few feet of 1/2" Schedule 80 Electrical Conduit (UV Resistant)
- A mess of #2 Grommets
- Padded Weightlifter Belt
- A couple of carabiners
- Some bungees
- An ATV cargo net
- Cold Weld Epoxy Adhesive (2-part, with almost 4000lb. tensile strength)
- A bunch of SST screws
With the pulk built and demo'd on the driveway (on some fresh snow) I was ready to give it a real test. The next day would be spent snowshoeing the pulk (containing shelter, food, and fishing gear) miles into the BWCAW for a winter lake trout expedition. I had just the lake in mind and was studying the topo of it all week. And, ironically enough, the fishing spot selected carried a Finnish name (of which will go unspecified here in the public domain of the blogosphere).
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| I made a special point of noting "pulk" under my mode of travel, farther down on the permit (off picture). |
The day started with a few inches of fresh snow but tapered off for the start of the expedition. The area was under a National Weather Service Winter Storm Warning and had the potential of 7 inches of new wet snow. We arrived at the entry point unscathed by the weather and anxious to get the pulk to work. Once hooked up we headed out for the lakers. The pace was slow and steady. The pulk tracked flawlessly behind in the fresh snow. It shadowed my every move as if it were stocking me like a psychopathic, obsessed, admirer of the opposite sex.
What a great set-up I thought. To have nearly 70 pounds in the sled and hardly feel it? Why aren't ice fishing shelter manufacturers clueing in to this? Like, not everyone who's using their shelter product has a snowmobile and nor do they want one?! Disbelieve aside, the pride of my creation began to fuel my pace. Soon, we were off the common trail and changing into our snowshoes. From this point on we were breaking trail across the lake in deep snow. The pulk continued to perform: not sinking, not plowing, pulling with relative ease, and tracking straight.
The spot was just a bit off in the distance and I wondered about stopping early at a relatively good looking steep shoreline rock slide that would continue into the lake--a potential lake trout haunt. But then, as the thought of shorting myself entered, I heard an eagle cry. I looked up. Sure enough a winter bald eagle soared over my spot another 1/4 mile away. Surely, the eagle's presence here in this season meant only one thing... it was scavenging on wolf-killed deer carcasses. And, the wolves were most likely nearby. But the eagle told me where to build my little cabin in the woods over a decade ago; and, it did appear he was telling me where to head for lakers, too. So I listened and continued on.
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| Snowshoe lay-over. |
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| "Pulking out" |
With faith in the eagle (and my ability to understand lake trout behavior and read a topo) we arrived at the spot. By now the wind was really pounding. I drilled a few holes with my trusty 8-inch diameter hand auger. It was a slow go since the ice was somewhere between 2-3 feet thick. Each hole had to be drilled out on my knees since the auger was not long enough to finish the holes standing up. We were lucky to find the right depth on the third hole. It was time to unpack the pulk and erect the new hub style shelter. The hub went up with some struggles--mostly due to the strong wind. But, with a few ties drilled down into the ice we were able to anchor the shelter and get to work jigging.
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| The Trout Haus |
The water was about 60 feet deep and it took an hour or two for the fish to show up. But, when they did boy did they come through. The lakers were coming through in small packs similar in quantity to wolf packs on the prowl. Like miniature packs of marlin they worked together to ball up the loose roaming ciscoes. The jigging minnows sporting "Gulp" minnow heads drew their attention but they just wouldn't commit.
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| Note the bent hook... courtesy of Mr. Lake Trout. |
One shape after another showed up on the Marcum as they rolled their eyes at our offerings. But then, on the shoreline, the eagles began to cry. There were two now and they serenaded us with that wonderful sound only bald eagles can make. It went on for 15 minutes. More packs of lakers moved through on the Marcum. Those fishing, were wolfing down baked beans and brats cooked on the camp stove. All activity in the animal kingdom was going wild. And then, my rod bent in a great arc. I set the hook. Fish on. I soon became a five year old. The thrill of connecting with a deep-water laker... wild, native, and everything wilderness. The elation soon turned to anxiety. The cold water micro braid fishing line didn't stretch under battle. It transmitted every move the laker made. Head shakes, twists, alligator rolls, runs, and dives. I reeled slowly, careful not to pull the hook. I helped the drag go out by pulling line off the reel when the fish made repeated dives to the bottom. Oh the stress... I don't want to loose it. Just to get it to the surface so I can see it. Then, the fish swam directly at the hole. The bend on my rod went away. No, I am not going to loose it. I reeled as fast as I could to stay taught with the fish. Then, I took up the slack and the bend returned to my rod. Whew. Still on. Crafty move there, Mr. Laker.
We exchanged punches a few more times and then it happened. The fish appeared in the hole. Its lake trout maw pierced the surface and I saw the extent of the fish. The fish was 5-6 pounds and thick for its length. What a specimen. I had lost maybe my PB splake the week before at this moment. I wouldn't be able to handle another such loss. Without hesitation I stuck my left arm down the hole to my elbow and grabbed the tail-end of the fish. My right arm was raised high in the air holding an arcing ice fishing rod--stubby and with a small reel. Collectively, the two arms worked together. The right, raising just enough to lift the fish without pulling the hooks out. The left, securing the grip on the fish's tail from the bottom up ensuring the fish would not slide back down the hole even if it became unhooked. And then with a single motion I lifted the left arm out of the hole forcing the lake trout onto the ice floor within the shelter. There it laid. Chunky, still, beautiful, and the source of all the awes and excitement within the shelter. The anxiety of loosing the fish turned back to the joy of a five year old boy. As I heard another fisherman once say, "Catching fish makes me happy. Very happy. It's that simple."
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| BWCAW Laker |
After the party was over we broke camp and headed back for the entry point from which we came. The snow was really coming down by now. Heavy, thick, wet stuff falling at over an inch per hour. We trodded on with headlamps in complete darkness while the snowstorm pounded us and covered our tracks from earlier in the day. Navigation was tricky in these conditions but we continued blindly on the course marked by our barely legible remnant pole plants in the snow. We looked like abominable snowmen. The pulk was getting heavier and heavier as it filled with wet snow on the way out. Finally, after a long journey out of the wilderness I saw a flicker of light not more than 15-20 meters in the distance. It was a sign reflecting in my headlamp barely seen through the falling snow. Ah, we're back at the entry point--just ten minutes off pace. Covered in snow, wet, tired, and content. The pulk survived its maiden voyage without issue; and, we got into some nice laker action to boot. Yee-hooooo!
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| The sign that reflected in my headlamp, indicating where the entry point was on our way back in heavy weather. |
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| The pulk surviving the snowstorm. Heavy wet snow falling. |
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