Winner Takes All

Snow continues to be the big story for those of us in what is now the great white north.  Following the four+ inches last week, another six-eight fell in various locations on the Upper Trail.  Closer to town, the totals were higher, thanks to a strong east wind that kicked up some lake-effect snow.  Monday was sunny and bright, as evidenced by this photo.  Definitely a day to use sunglasses.  With the ever-climbing sun, we are seeing rays and shadows in places that have been shaded since November. 

As I wrote the other day, it is almost like a lottery, watching the forecasts and wondering who will win the most snowfall.  One moment, we hear 8-13 inches, the next, they have downgraded us to 6-10.  I finally quit looking, since it doesn't much matter.  What we end up with is the real thing that makes a difference. 

Our friend John skiied into his remote cabin on Friday.  Before leaving, he shared that he really hoped that he would get snowed in.  That is a dream I love to have, and occasionally it has come true.  I told Greg this morning that if we truly do get a dumping, I'll have to make a batch of cookies for John, as a thank you for making it happen.  For some folks, I know this would definitely be a moment of "Be careful what you wish for."  Not here.  We'll take it, whatever we can get.  Greedy? Not so much! 

Fresh Snow

It seems that real winter is finally waking up.  In the last week, we have received about five inches of new snow.  The once-meager snowbanks are finally becoming sizable.  Greg has been busy plowing his many contract customers, and we are pleased with the additional insulation around the cabins.

We've been anxiously watching the weather reports, hoping that later-season snow would be a reality.  The word this week is that we could be in line for two storms.  The first warning is current; as I type I am watching the snow fall.  I can still see Canada, but just barely.  That is a good marker for us to watch.  Occasionally, a gust of wind will kick up, sending snow from the rooftop and tree branches.  That makes me feel like it's a good, old-fashioned blizzard.  I don't think it will end up truly as such, but if the predictions come true, we could end up with another six inches.

The next event is predicted for Wednesday.  Though the storm track has yet to be defined, I read a report that somewhere in the Northland, a sizeable amount of snow--up to a foot--will fall.  Of course, I automatically wanted it to be us, and sort of felt like I was buying a lottery ticket!  The way this winter has gone, it practically takes that same kind of luck.  But now it feels as though things are changing.

Yesterday, I prepared my soup, fired up the bread oven, and got the tent warmed up.  I noticed the week's accumulation piled on the roof of the tent, so I went about shaking it off.  I figured if we were going to be getting a bunch more, we didn't want to stress the aluminum frame.  Around the outside of the tent, I noticed heaps of snow lining the base.  We only warm up the tent for Saturday afternoons, but thanks to the woodstove, the straw insulating the floor, and that snow around the exterior, we stay pretty warm.  I can even imagine going winter camping, if I had a set-up like this to enjoy in the evenings.

The bird feeders are full and very busy.  Recently, I've seen our usual friends: chickadees, red-breasted nut hatches, pine grosbeaks, and red polls.  A few juncos have re-appeared.  And of course, the blue jays and ravens are still out and about.  Underneath the feeder, the deer congregate, looking for whatever seeds may have fallen.  With the feeders hanging high off the porch eaves, they can't reach them, no matter how much they try. 

When I was cleaning at Diamond Willow the other day, a few deer were passing by.  Here is a photo of one that I got, right out the window.  She jumped a bit when the flash went off on my first attempt.  It wasn't enough to scare her away.

It's a beautiful, quiet time here on Gunflint Lake.  It rather has the look and feel of early December, with the exception of the length of the days.  Two months ago, morning didn't seem to arrive until about 7:45. Now, an hour earlier, there is considerable light coming in my windows.  Soon it will be time to switch to Daylight Savings Time again, and then our evenings will stay light longer.  That's what I love about late winter---the temps are more moderate, and with all of the daylight, it's a wonderful time to be playing outside.  March skiing is coming up, and it's some of my favorite.

Under the Ice

As promised, here is the video of what it looks like below the ice.  I found the sounds to be fascinating, as well as the amount of light visible.  It wasn't even a sunny day when Greg took this video.  It was the same day as when he worked on the pressure ridge.  To that end, you can still see drops of water on the lens!

I also thought it was pretty cool to see rocks frozen to the underside of the ice sheet.  In the days since the pressure ridge appeared, it has actually "flattened" out a little, at least in front of our property.  If I knew more about plate tectonics, I might better understand what is going on.  What I really am wondering is if the sauna hole moves around with these changes?  If someday I get a GPS, perhaps I'll be able to verify that.

Through the Ice

     Gunflint Lake froze this season on December 28th.  Ten days ago, a fisherman told me that he had drilled through 15 inches of ice.  This weekend, the fishermen found 17 inches (and ten lake trout, too!).  What all of this means is that it has been much easier to keep a hole open in the ice for the sauna.  Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, having Paul home for the winter is probably the biggest factor to make this happen.

     Winter is the perfect time for taking a sauna.  Our little building is one of the few wood-fired saunas amongst the lodges up here.  For some guests, the only way to take a true and complete sauna is by taking that plunge into the lake after getting good and hot.  It's fun to hear the shouts and exclamations as people run from the porch and then slip into the icy water.  It is actually an activity that I have never done, and still have no desire to try.  Something about that cold black water keeps me away.  Greg says that it matters most how hot you let yourself get.  If you are warmed enough, you Want to go into the lake.  Hmmm, not me.

     I will help to keep the hole open when I can, though.  If we are lucky, the ice cover between uses is only a couple of inches thick.  Recently when I popped it open, it was only a half-inch skim.

As I used our special sauna shovel (the broken one) to scoop up the sheets of ice, I noticed that it was very easy to see the bottom of the lake.  The next day, I learned from some sauna-bathers that the water level was only about waist-deep in the hole.  That didn't sound too scary, but one still needs to exercise caution when dunking underneath the surface.  The edges of the hole can be sharp, and it's wise to wear wool socks.  Although they get wet, they still offer a layer of insulation between your feet and the cold snow.

     Seeing the rocks so clearly on the bottom fascinates me.  In the summer, it is a rare day that the lake is still enough to provide this kind of view.  It would be fun to see a fish swim by, were I to be so lucky.  Quite honestly, it makes it look a lot less intimidating to think about jumping in.  If you are thinking that perhaps it changed my mind completely, I'm about to disappoint you.  The thought of taking a shower after the sauna still appeals to me more.  I guess I'm just not as hardy as the rest.