The Shoulder Season: Life in the In Between
- Matt Martin
- 13 hours ago
- 6 min read

Every guide knows the feeling when the ice season starts to wind down.
The days are getting longer, the sun has a bit more heat to it, and the snowbanks along the road are shrinking into dirty piles of slush. The huts are still out there. The ice is often still plenty safe. But the momentum that carried you through the heart of winter has slowed.
Five days a week on the ice turns into two. Maybe three if you're lucky.
And steelhead season has not really kicked off yet.
Welcome to the shoulder season.
For most people this time of year feels like spring is arriving. For guides, it feels more like limbo. You are caught between seasons, trying to finish one while preparing for the next.
The reality is that this is one of the tougher stretches of the year if guiding is how you make your living.
During the peak of ice season the schedule is simple. Wake up early, meet clients, run the day, come home tired, repeat tomorrow. The work is steady and predictable. When the fishing is good and the weather cooperates, the calendar fills up quickly and the days blur together.
Then March arrives.
Trips slow down. Ice conditions become more unpredictable. Some clients cancel because they start thinking about spring. Others are hesitant after hearing stories about unsafe ice somewhere else. Sometimes the ice is perfectly fine where you fish, but perception matters.
Suddenly you have empty days in the calendar.
This is something every new guide learns very quickly. The busy season does not last forever. If you are not careful with money during the peak months, the shoulder season will remind you in a hurry.
There are weeks where the phone barely rings.
Guiding looks glamorous from the outside. Social media posts of big fish and happy clients can give the impression that it is a constant adventure. The truth is that guiding is a seasonal business. There are highs where the work is nonstop, and there are quieter periods where you have to tighten things up and ride it out.
Financial discipline becomes part of the job.
You learn to stretch the income from the busy months. Equipment needs replacing. Insurance payments do not stop just because the fishing slowed down. The same goes for regular life expenses at home.
That lesson hits new guides hard the first couple of years.
The other thing about this time of year is the weather.

Late winter and early spring in Ontario is not exactly pretty. The fresh snow from January is long gone. What remains is a patchwork of melting banks, exposed gravel, and dirty snow that looks like it has been through a dozen freeze thaw cycles.
Everything feels damp.
The air carries that cold rain that soaks through jackets and gloves. One day might feel like spring. The next brings freezing rain and a hard north wind. Rivers start creeping up as snow begins to melt upstream. Trails turn into mud.
Mentally it can be draining.
You spend months pushing hard through winter, waking up before sunrise and grinding out long days outside. By the time the shoulder season hits, the body and mind are ready for a reset. Instead you find yourself staring at grey skies, half melted snowbanks, and a calendar that suddenly has too much open space.
But if you guide for a living, this downtime is not really downtime.
It is preparation season.
The first step is always gear.
After a full winter of guiding, equipment takes a beating. Rods get stepped on in huts. Reel handles get stiff. Auger blades dullafter months of drilling holes through thick ice.
Everything needs attention.
I usually start by laying everything out. Rods get checked one by one. Guides get inspected for cracks. Broken rods get set aside for replacement. Reels get cleaned and re spooled with fresh line.
Line is one of those small things that makes a big difference. Clients lose fish every year because of nicked or worn line. A few hours spent re spooling now saves frustration later.
Next comes the fly boxes.
Winter used to be a heavy tying season for me, but now ice guiding takes up so much time, that's changed. By the time March arrives, many boxes are half empty. Steelhead flies are missing. Pike flies are chewed up. Hooks are dull or bent.
So the tying vice comes back out.

Evenings get spent filling the gaps. Fresh patterns go into the boxes. Old flies get sorted out. Some get repaired. Others go straight to the garbage.
The same thing happens with lures.
Treble hooks get rusty after a season of wet conditions. Split rings weaken. This is the time to go through every spoon, crankbait, and jig. Rusty hooks get removed and replaced. Points get sharpened. Anything questionable gets tossed.
When the next season starts, you want complete confidence in your gear.
Then there is the boat.

Even though the ice season is not completely finished, the boat starts creeping back into the conversation. Batteries need charging. Safety gear needs to be checked. Registration paperwork needs to be updated and organized.
That paperwork alone can take more time than expected.
Guiding regulations change. Safety requirements shift. Government websites release updates that you need to read carefully. Making sure the boat has the proper documentation on board is important, but sometimes finding the correct forms or understanding new rules can feel like a job in itself.
Still, it has to be done.
Clients trust you to run a professional operation, and that includes staying on top of regulations.
At the same time you cannot fully pack away the ice gear.
That is the tricky part of this season.
The ice is often still good enough for a few more trips each week. Some of the best late season perch and trout fishing can happen right now. Clients who understand that are happy to get out there.
So the sled stays loaded.
The hut remains ready.
You might spend a morning reorganizing fly boxes or sorting through boat gear, only to get a text from a client asking if tomorrow is available on the ice. Plans change quickly. The shoulder season requires flexibility.
And in the background there is always the steelhead.

The rivers start calling earlier every year.
A warm rain can push water levels up overnight. Fish begin sliding into tributaries from the lake. Word spreads quickly among anglers, and suddenly the phone starts buzzing again.
That is why you have to be ready.
Steelhead bookings often come last minute. Clients see a good weather window or hear that fish are moving and they want to go immediately. If your gear is not prepared, you miss those opportunities.
So the river gear comes out as well.
Centerpin reels get fresh line. Waders get inspected for leaks. Float rods get checked and re rigged. Swing rods and spey lines get organized for the anglers who want to chase fish on the fly.
It feels like preparing for three different seasons at once.
Ice fishing is still happening.
Steelhead is around the corner.
Open water pike and bass are not that far behind.
Some days it can feel chaotic, but there is something satisfying about it too. This is the behind the scenes side of guiding that most people never see.
Clients see the finished product. A smooth day on the water or ice where everything works the way it should.
What they do not see are the hours spent sharpening hooks, organizing gear, tying flies, replacing line, and making sure every piece of equipment is ready.
That work happens during the shoulder season.
There are other small tasks that fill the days as well. Answering emails. Updating the website. Posting trip reports and photos from the winter. Reaching out to sponsors and partners.
Marketing never really stops if you run your own guiding business.
Sometimes that means planning future content or reaching out to anglers who have been thinking about booking a trip. Sometimes it is just sitting down with a coffee and mapping out the calendar for the next few months.
The shoulder season forces you to slow down just enough to look ahead.
Before long the rivers will be full of anglers chasing chrome. Boats will be back on trailers heading to launches. The ice huts will be stacked away and the augers stored in the corner of the garage.
But right now everything overlaps.
Ice gear sits beside fly tying materials. Steelhead rods lean against the wall while lures get new hooks. The sled might still be hooked to the truck while the boat battery charges nearby.
It is messy and transitional.
And that is exactly what the shoulder season is.
For guides it is not a vacation. It is a reset. A chance to prepare for the next push while finishing the last one.
The pace slows, but the work never really stops.
Matt




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