What started as a quiet day on the ice turned into absolute pandemonium when a Wisconsin angler pulled up a yellow perch that may rewrite North Dakota’s record books.
Alan Hintz has spent more than 50 years ice fishing, chasing panfish and predators from small Midwestern lakes to the vast waters of Lake Erie. But during a recent trip to Devil’s Lake, he experienced the kind of moment most anglers only dream about.
Hintz and his brother Dale had booked a guided trip with Perch Patrol Guide Service and were working Pelican Bay. The morning was steady but far from spectacular. By noon, just three fish sat in the bucket. It was shaping up to be one of those grind-it-out days that ice anglers know well.
Their guide, Tyler Elshaug, decided it was time to move. The area they were fishing has a reputation for quality over quantity, so Elshaug drilled a few fresh holes and checked them with his electronics. He marked fish quickly and even caught one almost immediately. That was enough to convince him to relocate the brothers.
Fishing Buck-Shot Rattle Spoons tipped with minnow heads, the Hintz brothers dropped their lines into the new holes. Within minutes, Dale’s spoon was clipped off by a pike. As Elshaug stepped away to re-rig the rod, Alan noticed a large mark moving toward his bait on the screen.
At first glance, it looked like another pike. Still, experience says to let the fish decide.
The mark charged the spoon. Alan swung and missed. He dropped back down, worked the lure again, and the fish hammered it a second time. This time the hook found its mark.
Chaos followed.
The fish made several powerful runs, tangling Alan’s line in the transducer and wrapping around a second dead-stick line between the brothers. Dale jumped down to clear the mess while the small ice shanty filled with raised voices and adrenaline.
Hearing the commotion from outside, Elshaug hurried back to the shack. Inside, it was controlled chaos. Alan still believed he was battling a pike.
Then the fish came into view near the bottom of the hole.
Instead of the long shape of a northern pike, a massive yellow perch flashed beneath the ice. All three men froze for a split second before the excitement doubled.
Elshaug lunged for the hole and secured the fish. The tape measure came out. Sixteen and a half inches.
Now the tone shifted from excitement to disbelief.
The group quickly packed up and headed to a nearby bait shop with a certified scale. Knowing the perch had serious potential, Elshaug contacted a game warden to meet them there.
On the certified scale, the perch weighed 2.99 pounds. Under the rules of the North Dakota Game and Fish Department, record weights are rounded to the nearest ounce. That pushed the fish to an even 3 pounds.
The current North Dakota state record yellow perch, also caught from Devil’s Lake in 1982, weighed 2 pounds 15 ounces. If the paperwork clears, Hintz’s fish will surpass that 44-year-old mark.
Unlike the International Game Fish Association, which requires a new record to exceed the old one by at least two ounces, North Dakota does not require a minimum margin to replace a standing state record. Even a one-ounce difference is enough.
There is still a waiting period before anything becomes official. The state requires at least four weeks to review and certify a potential record. Until then, the perch remains unofficial but undeniably impressive.
For Hintz, the outcome on paper matters less than the memory itself. After decades on the ice and countless hours chasing fish, landing the biggest perch of his life is reward enough.
Some days are about numbers. Others are about that one fish that turns a slow morning into a story that will be retold every winter. On a quiet stretch of ice in North Dakota, a routine trip transformed into the kind of moment that keeps anglers drilling holes year after year.
Image/Source: OL
