Sun and Warmth = Melting Ice

About the time when I'm thinking that winter will never go away, and the only way my hands will be warm is to keep them in hot dishwater.....then we get a day like today. The sun made an appearance for the whole day, instead of just a part of it, and really did a number on knocking down the ice on the lake. In the morning, it was frosty white with patches of gray. By day's end, it was mostly black. The wind was down, so there wasn't a lot of movement to the ice sheet. This evening, however, the wind is back up, so I expect it all to move around overnight. Some years, we've gone to bed thinking that it would be a few more days 'til ice out, only to wake up the next day and it was all gone completely. I wonder what tomorrow will bring?

We've been watching our usual markers for spring, and one of them is the melting of the ice in the creek above Sharlene's driveway. The water has been pouring steadily through the culvert for many weeks now, but the ice mass has not gone down. Instead, a channel for the flow was deepening itself. Tonight, Greg noticed that the channel is about three feet deep. Our fishermen have noted in the past how useful this ice is for coolers and keeping the catch chilled. It looks like we will have plenty of it available for whomever needs it. Greg thinks that remnants will still be clinging to the bank in early June.

Another thing we are watching is the progression of the lake level. We'd like to see the level reach at least the middle of our ramp. That would make a good starting point this spring. When the water reaches the top of our ramp, that is exceptionally high, and it can mean that objects on shore get pulled into the lake and go floating away. One year, we went down to the east end to retrieve a large dock that had escaped its moorings from a neighbor's property. It's almost like a treasure hunt when that happens.

Speaking of treasure, when we were out walking on the ice a few weeks back, Greg spotted a hat on the rocks along the shore line. He headed to pull it out, and found that it was a Heston's Lodge hat. It was a good mile and a half from our place, so someone had probably lost it to the wind while boating on some past day. He carefully hung it on a tree branch near shore, so that if the owner spots it, he/she can retrieve it. It's a little worn down, but still usable.

Tales of the Ice

It's been an interesting year for the ice. Throughout much of April, we were able to walk out on it and explore its variations. We enjoyed the sounds of it early in the month. The temps were still cold enough for new ice to be forming, and the booming continued for a good week or so. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the colors changed, transitioning from white to gray, and now, well on our way to black.

In the first week, it was still very safe, in spite of the full sunshine working on it. We enjoyed a trek to the other side, and saw some early signs of spring. Little trees were stretching high to greet the warmth after the long winter, and a small spider was making its way along. Thanks to the heat radiating, we could smell those first scents of spring, most welcome to our noses. It was definitely sunglasses weather, and we picked up a little color on our faces in nature's version of a tanning booth.

As the days continued, we intermittently got snow and the decaying process would slow down. We would think that all progress had been lost, but I still felt that the waters underneath must be working some magic. Soon we were seeing evidence of that, as the usual locations began to open up: the west end by the Cross River, the creek that runs down in front of the rustic cabins, the landing down in front, and our beach area. Our walks on the ice are now finished for this season, as the ice gets grayer and grayer. On the sunny days, though few and far between as of late, the ice is black, a clear indication of its eventual demise.

As we get closer to open water, I look forward to the break-up, when the wind pushes the ice sheets into shore, and they slide on top of each other. The layers sometimes retain a bluish color for a brief stretch, and we can see the honeycomb of the crystals. If a chunk breaks off that's small enough to hold, it is totally clear, not frosty like an ice cube. Occasionally, we see the power behind the wind, when ice sheets will slowly push trees and rocks in the way. It seems like a long & slow path, but then suddenly, one day, it will have vanished.

A fresh coat of snow brightens our landscape today, courtesy of Mother Nature. The storm that was predicted for Sunday and Monday looked to be a bit of a bust initially, with a mix of rain and snow on the first day. That night, it had pretty much stopped. I wasn't surprised, as it had often been like that this winter. But by Monday morning, I could see that this time, I was wrong. It had snowed through the night, and by the way the trees were frosted, it looked more like December than April. I had been commenting previously on how gray and dirty our snowbanks were looking. Someone heard me somewhere, and decided to change that. By midday, the snow had stopped falling, but the wind was blowing it off the trees, and it looked very much like a blizzard. We ended up with about six inches of heavy wet snow, yet another welcome contribution to our collection for filling up Gunflint Lake in a few more weeks.

Last year, our ice went out on April 10th. We were gone to Hawaii at the time, and so missed seeing the earliest ice-out in anyone's memory. This year, I think we will be on a more normal track, since the cold temps last week brought out the usual groaning sounds of ice-making. In December, we hear cool spaceship type sounds--pings and such, as the ice thickens. This time of year, it is a heaving noise, deep and guttural. I have seen new cracks, some almost a foot deep, the walls of ice about an inch apart. Down at the bottom, there is more ice, so I know it is still safe to walk on it. The other day, we ran an errand down to a neighbor's cabin, and we took the little truck. It was safer on the flat lake than the extremely icy road, with hills, twists and curves. Funny that I should be feeling that way, as I've not ever been fond of seeing vehicles larger than snowmobiles on the ice. It was, however, a fast, efficient and safe way to go.

The sun is out, and feeling warm, so that should go a ways towards melting this new batch of snow off of the road. Ever mindful that spring truly will return, Greg is busy working on his dock project today, putting new decking on top. He started last fall, doing a lot of welding and reinforcing on the framework. It seems funny that he should have to shovel off snow in April, just to get back to work. But quite possibly, a month from now, it will be time to be wheeling it into the lake. So I guess today is as good a day as any to get the job done. Some projects know no season, it is just that some days are better than others.

Any day is a good one to catch the sunset. Lately, as the sun moves more to the west from the southwest, we've been seeing great color in the sky. Another treat as we move towards the warmer time of the year.

A Bird's Eye View

As winter winds down, the days are relatively quiet. The most activity we see is in the world of the birds. Flocks of them are returning, whom Greg fondly refers to collectively as Tweety birds. I've seen red polls and finches, some grosbeaks, and the usual chickadees and nuthatches. The songs they sing are more spring-like, and they are voracious at the feeder. We've started to toss a handful of seeds out the window of our room, on to the roof of the screen porch. It makes for some great viewing. We get a kick out of some of the feisty finches, who spend more time defending territory from their flock-mates, than actually eating. I wish I could tell them that there is plenty of seed to go around.

For more years than I can recall, whenever Greg would see a small plane going over Gunflint Lake, he would declare that the pilot should come down to pick him up, and take him for a ride. After the blowdown, and since the fires, that desire has only grown stronger. He had been up in a plane many years ago, but with the changes our forest has endured, he knew the scenery would be different now. That wish came true yesterday. A friend taxied down the ice, stopped out front, and invited us for a quick tour.

For my part, I, too, had been up above Gunflint Lake many years ago, when our friend Bill had his plane at the airport at Devil's Track. He offered to take me and the boys up for a ride. Addie was too little, so she stayed home with Greg, waiting on our landing, to wave at us as the plane came by. Robert sat up front, and Paul and I enjoyed the view from the back. Since it was a good seventeen or so years ago, my memory of it is a bit faded. Mostly green and blue, that is what I recall.

On this day, of course, things were predominantly white. We do still have a lot of snow, especially when seen from the air. Add to that the expanses of iced lakes, and it almost looked like a black and white landscape. The sun was shining brightly, and it was easy to identify the lakes with which I am most familiar. Looking west into the BWCA, it was quite helpful to have our pilot pointing out the various familiar names of distant lakes. Turning south, he showed us the tip of the Lutsen ski hill area, and we could see Lake Superior on the horizon. I was totally struck by how close these places are really are to me. It may take me an hour to drive to town, but up in the sky, I could almost see it from here. Ely is further---three and a half hours away by car, but it was out there somewhere to the west. Out of reach, of course, due to the flying restrictions over the Boundary Waters, but not so far away just the same.

We circled back along the south side of Loon, and I could see over to Gunflint Lake, the ridge between the two lakes stretching long. Paul and I had hiked the eastern section of it in January, when we took the trail to Bridal Falls. Patches of forest butted up against open area that had been parts of prescribed burns in the past. I recalled one such event, the Saucer Lake burn, back in the fall of 2005. I was home alone with Addie when the Forest Service came through to rent our boats and use our landing. Another section of the burned area had resulted from prescribed burning during the Ham Lake Fire. Without those planned activities, the wildfire in 2007 may have had a different ending for us.

Soon we were making our way from east to west down Gunflint Lake, descending closer to the ice. The lake is mostly clear of snow, save for a few thin crusty patches. The ice is super slick and bumpy. The wheels touched down with a loud thump and we slowed as we approached our point. We got out and thanked the pilot for our adventure, grateful for the opportunity to see it ourselves, and for the photos we were able to capture. What an awesome surprise!