I should have realized that our anticipated ice fishing trip would be a bust when I encountered a skunk in our backyard at 4:20. We saw another two on the road while wending our way out of the neighborhood. Our first ice fishing in two years.
Bad omens aside, I think the negative factors were: fishing in only half the depth that our intended whitefish inhabit at that time of year; a high pressure system moving in; it being a touch late in the season.
I realized as I was packing for the trip that I was bringing a) a pocket knife given to me by my Opa around 1983, and b) a fishing vest given to me by my Oma around 1991.