As winter slowly trudges along, the ice keeps getting thicker. Perch are biting and hardy fishermen continue to fight the elements in search of some cold-weather fun.

Ice fishing is one sport I have only done sporadically throughout a lifetime of hunting and fishing. It isn't the cold that bothers me.

Downhill skiing and snowshoeing have occupied a lot of cold winter days. Maybe it's the thought of cold water under what's supposed to be a solid surface.

I remember going to Eaton Reservoir fishing with friends some 30 or more winters ago. The fishing was supposed to be great. I was a little alarmed when my friends eased their way onto the ice. You could actually see it move up and down. When they drilled the first hole through about two inches of ice, my suspicions were confirmed. I decided not to fish. After all, I had already showered earlier in the day.

Another time, the same crew decided to catch some walleyes on Oneida Lake. The day was perfect. It was so cold, my nostrils hurt when I took a breath. But, that didn't matter. I was assured it would get a little warmer later in the morning. By 11 a.m., the sun was gone. Snow was falling so fast and furious that the shoreline was no longer visible. It was a whiteout.

That day, four fishermen had no idea which way to go after pulling up their tip-ups. Finally someone came along on a snowmobile with a compass and guided us to shore.

That same lake is famous for the annual helicopter rescues from a floating slab of ice. Several fishermen are airlifted to safety each spring, as the ice drifts around the lake while getting smaller and smaller. They lose everything, even their snowmobiles. Isn't ice fishing a real rush?

Back in the early '70s, some other friends and I hiked a couple miles back in to Fawn Lake to catch lakers. The snow was deep, but snowshoes made the trek somewhat easier. It seems that Fawn Lake, a small lake northwest of Speculator, is home to a special species of lake trout found only in that lake. The only problem was three feet of snow covering three feet of ice. We never were able to get a line in the water. It was a good hike, though.

Another time while teaching in Wells, a few of us decided to fish for northern pike on Indian Lake. One of the teachers had a new fish finder, and it really worked well. With a large minnow through small, ice-choked holes, the action was hot. Everyone was catching fish except for me. Finally, one of my tip-ups went off and the fight was on. The only problem I had was getting a large fish through a small hole. In making the hole a little larger, my friends also cut the line on the only fish I had on all day. Gosh, ice fishing is so much fun!

There was a cold ride home after stepping into a spring hole on another Adirondack lake. Luckily, we were along the shore and the water was just a couple feet deep. It's funny, I don't remember catching any fish that day, either.

I can remember being on frozen lakes and hearing the snap and groan of shifting ice. That always made me a little nervous, even when others assured me that it happens all the time and that there's nothing to worry about. It always seemed to me that swimming with polar bears was actually something to worry about.

Maybe ice fishing isn't that much fun. Most of my cold-weather memories don't seem to have a lot of fish connected with them, either.

That may be the reason I don't spend much time cutting holes in the ice and jigging for a fish I can't see.

Rick Brockway writes a weekly outdoors column for The Daily Star. E-mail him at brockway@dmcom.net.