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.

Saturday in the Soup Tent

It was a gorgeous day today, and a lovely one for spending the afternoon in the soup tent.  The menu included chili, cornbread, and ciabatta.  A good hearty meal for any outdoor activity.  The soup tent is working out quite nicely.  It's easy to warm up, thanks to the little Jotul 602, and with the convenience of extension cords, we can keep the soup hot and have a pot of apple cider on the stove.

This is our sixth week of baking bread in the winter, and overall, it is going very well.  Mostly, I've made the usual favorite recipe, which is well-suited to winter baking.  The oven, with its final insulation, warms up quickly, and holds the heat for the time necessary to bake at 500+ degrees.  On Sundays, we will sometimes put together a dutch oven meal, such as a roast or stew.  The oven is usually at about 250 degrees,  so it is perfect for long, slow cooking.  This is turning into a new winter hobby.

We had some new guests arrive at the tent today, including this little sweetie:

Little guy Cameron, just a month old, came to see us at Heston's.  Here he is, meeting his second cousin Paul (or maybe it's first cousin once-removed....I never keep it straight!) He's a precious one, definitely a keeper.  He came to meet his great-grandma Sharlene, and the various aunts, uncles, and cousins in Cook County.  I'm sure that it won't be long before he is back and big enough to be running around, jumping in the lake, exploring the woods, and doing all those other things that boys do outside.  He'll have lots of teachers around here, waiting to show him the adventures they had.

The Pressure Ridge

Sometimes things seem to pop up overnight.  Usually, it's as simple as a new idea, or some other such thought.   Occasionally, it is actually something physical.  A few weeks ago, a pressure ridge popped up in front of the lodge, creating an obstacle that prevented anyone from accessing the lake via our boat landing. 

     It's typical to see these ridges each winter.  They usually run from north to south, created by the heaving and cracking of the ice as it contracts and expands.  This is the first time we've seen one running east to west, and it followed our shoreline closely, for quite aways down the lake. 

     While our landing is no where near as busy in the winter as it is the rest of the year, it is still a vital pathway.  Fishermen come by snowmobile to access the good fishing holes down to the east.  Traveling up and over a pressure ridge can be dangerous, as there can be open water near them.  At the least, they can cause nasty slush.  At the most, a snowmobile can slip through into the lake.  That did happen last month, but fortunately, it was near shore and the rider and snowmobile both made it out safely.

     On this particular day, Greg went down to the lake, ready with tools and a video camera, to figure out what could be done to clear the way out on to the ice.  This is how he did it:

The Pressure Ridge: What Would Greg Do?

     This video should include the disclaimer "Don't try this at home!"  But since most people don't have their very own pressure ridge in their yard, I think we can skip that.

Next week, we'll share some video of what things look like inside the pressure ridge.

Ravenspeak

Before the current cold snap set in, we had a brief spell of new snowfall.  In a winter when the snowmakers have been this stingy, it is a welcome sight.  I was on my way to fire up the sauna, and snapped this photo:

The wind had not started up yet, and so it was a peaceful scene.

     This morning, with the thermometer hanging out at negative thirteen, I noticed that the bird feeders were empty and the birds were hungry.  I got up to slip on my boots, and glancing outside, I saw two wolves crossing the lake.  When I went out to replenish the seeds, the ravens were in a big conversation.  We still have our resident pair, but I could hear many more voices.  It could only mean that there was a fresh kill somewhere nearby.

     After warming up a bit, I got ready to go and investigate.  At that moment, through the window, I saw a smaller wolf, trotting along nearer to shore.  I figured that he was running to catch up to the meal, before the ravens scavenged whatever was left.

     It's tricky to sneak around in the winter when it is this cold outside.  Beneath my feet, the snow squeaked like styrofoam.  I did my best to creep down to the landing for a peek.  There, off of the point, was the one wolf that I had just seen.  It was gnawing on a leg, and the ravens were nearby keeping watch.  A few more birds were picking at a spot that must have been where the ill-fated deer had first fallen.  Not much left of that animal.  I'm sure the birds were only finding morsels.

This is definitely one of those photos that we all have in our collections:  "See that dark spot there? That's a (wolf)!"

     This silent drama plays out every winter, all over our woods and lake.  I can't begin to recall how many times I've seen the remnants of a nighttime chase.  Once in a while, we are lucky enough to see several wolves participating in the meal.  It always gives me one of those National Geographic moments, amazed that I get to witness a part of it.  But here's a piece of the puzzle that still leaves me wanting to know more.

How do the ravens find out?  Our pair of the birds have displayed behavior that confirms their highly territorial nature.  But when it comes to a big feed like this, they are more than willing to share.  Greg was reading about ravens last year, and this was something noted by the author.  That is good, as it insures continuation of the species.  I understand that they must put out a certain call that alerts the ravens in neighboring areas that it is time to eat.  I just wish I could better translate it all.