JEFF WHITE
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Minnesota nice doesn't always apply on the ice.
Just ask Marty Johnson.
Johnson, 41, of Thief River Falls, was stunned to discover last week that some anglers would put catching fish ahead of helping a fellow angler in distress -- even one dripping wet after falling through thin ice.
"It's really sad," Johnson said.
He's just happy he's alive to tell the story.
Here's what happened:
Johnson was towing his portable ice house with his snowmobile onto Red Lake in northwestern Minnesota about 5:30 p.m. one day last week, hoping to catch the hot evening crappie bite that Red Lake is famous for. He has a cabin on the lake, knows it well and fishes it regularly.
The ice these days is about 30 inches thick and hundreds of cars and trucks drive on a web of plowed ice roads. Johnson followed his own tracks from a previous trip, then encountered a pressure ridge.
"I knew it was there. I got to the top and looked across and saw tracks and thought I should be able to make it. It was just stupid."
He started across.
"All of a sudden, bam, the front end drops, and then boom, the back end drops," he said.
Johnson, clad in jeans, sweatshirt, snowmobile suit and pac boots, plunged into the frigid water. He also was wearing his snowmobile helmet.
"I don't know if my head went under water, but my helmet shield fogged up and I couldn't see. That intensified the moment. I was trying to get out and the ice kept breaking away. I thought I wasn't going to make it. It seemed like a dream."
A bad dream.
Johnson's snowmobile and ice house sank. He doesn't know how long he was in the water, but he finally pulled himself up onto the ice.
But his nightmare was just beginning.
Several hundred yards across the pressure ridge, an angler looked at Johnson, then stepped back in his fish house. "He saw the whole thing happen," Johnson said.
But offered no help.
The temperature was in the low 30s. Soaking wet and concerned about hypothermia, he set off for an ice fishing house in the distance. He told his story to an older couple fishing there. They told them their ATV wouldn't get him back to his cabin as fast as the pickup parked a few hundred yards away near two portable ice houses.
"So I walked to that one," Johnson said. As he approached, one of the anglers threw a crappie onto the ice.
The evening crappie bite was on.
Johnson told his story again and asked for a ride.
"The guy said he would, but he was afraid he wouldn't find his way back. You can't really drive just anywhere because there's so much snow on the ice. He said, 'Sorry man.' "
Johnson spotted another ice house a couple hundred yards away, with a snowmobile parked nearby, and started walking. He repeated his story to the angler inside.
"His response was, 'Yeah, I'll give you a ride. But you have to wait an hour until the crappie bite is over because I drove three hours to fish.'
"I looked at him dumbfounded."
The angler pointed to a truck in the distance and suggested that Johnson flag it down. So, still drenched but undeterred, he walked some more and waved his arms at the fellow with the truck.
Fortunately for Johnson, that fellow was Todd Mortenson, owner of Mort's Dock, a local business that rents fish houses and plows roads on Red Lake. The two know each other.
Mortenson gladly gave Johnson a ride five miles to his cabin, where he changed into dry clothes, ate some hot food and pondered his ordeal.
Johnson, a banker with a wife and two kids, said he probably walked 1 1/2 miles on the ice looking for help. He is more puzzled than angered by the response from fellow anglers.
"I'm an optimistic person. I was disheartened some. They didn't want to be inconvenienced. It's almost unbelievable. I can look back and laugh now, but it w
Just ask Marty Johnson.
Johnson, 41, of Thief River Falls, was stunned to discover last week that some anglers would put catching fish ahead of helping a fellow angler in distress -- even one dripping wet after falling through thin ice.
"It's really sad," Johnson said.
He's just happy he's alive to tell the story.
Here's what happened:
Johnson was towing his portable ice house with his snowmobile onto Red Lake in northwestern Minnesota about 5:30 p.m. one day last week, hoping to catch the hot evening crappie bite that Red Lake is famous for. He has a cabin on the lake, knows it well and fishes it regularly.
The ice these days is about 30 inches thick and hundreds of cars and trucks drive on a web of plowed ice roads. Johnson followed his own tracks from a previous trip, then encountered a pressure ridge.
"I knew it was there. I got to the top and looked across and saw tracks and thought I should be able to make it. It was just stupid."
He started across.
"All of a sudden, bam, the front end drops, and then boom, the back end drops," he said.
Johnson, clad in jeans, sweatshirt, snowmobile suit and pac boots, plunged into the frigid water. He also was wearing his snowmobile helmet.
"I don't know if my head went under water, but my helmet shield fogged up and I couldn't see. That intensified the moment. I was trying to get out and the ice kept breaking away. I thought I wasn't going to make it. It seemed like a dream."
A bad dream.
Johnson's snowmobile and ice house sank. He doesn't know how long he was in the water, but he finally pulled himself up onto the ice.
But his nightmare was just beginning.
Several hundred yards across the pressure ridge, an angler looked at Johnson, then stepped back in his fish house. "He saw the whole thing happen," Johnson said.
But offered no help.
The temperature was in the low 30s. Soaking wet and concerned about hypothermia, he set off for an ice fishing house in the distance. He told his story to an older couple fishing there. They told them their ATV wouldn't get him back to his cabin as fast as the pickup parked a few hundred yards away near two portable ice houses.
"So I walked to that one," Johnson said. As he approached, one of the anglers threw a crappie onto the ice.
The evening crappie bite was on.
Johnson told his story again and asked for a ride.
"The guy said he would, but he was afraid he wouldn't find his way back. You can't really drive just anywhere because there's so much snow on the ice. He said, 'Sorry man.' "
Johnson spotted another ice house a couple hundred yards away, with a snowmobile parked nearby, and started walking. He repeated his story to the angler inside.
"His response was, 'Yeah, I'll give you a ride. But you have to wait an hour until the crappie bite is over because I drove three hours to fish.'
"I looked at him dumbfounded."
The angler pointed to a truck in the distance and suggested that Johnson flag it down. So, still drenched but undeterred, he walked some more and waved his arms at the fellow with the truck.
Fortunately for Johnson, that fellow was Todd Mortenson, owner of Mort's Dock, a local business that rents fish houses and plows roads on Red Lake. The two know each other.
Mortenson gladly gave Johnson a ride five miles to his cabin, where he changed into dry clothes, ate some hot food and pondered his ordeal.
Johnson, a banker with a wife and two kids, said he probably walked 1 1/2 miles on the ice looking for help. He is more puzzled than angered by the response from fellow anglers.
"I'm an optimistic person. I was disheartened some. They didn't want to be inconvenienced. It's almost unbelievable. I can look back and laugh now, but it w
