cottage ice-out

Blech. Home sick.

Made things worse by going to the cottage for the day yesterday, but it was worth it.

Jeff, JBR and I drove up north yesterday in our annual cottage ice-out ritual, an attempt to be at the lake when the ice goes out. Jeff keeps an online log every year, compiling ice-out predictions and rumours, talking to those living and working in the area.

I wasn't in the greatest of shape because of my cold and recovering tendinitis, but with JBR's and Jeff's encouragement I decided to go anyway.

When we get to the lake, there is more ice than we had expected:



JBR and Jeff survey the situation, deciding strategy.


While most of the lake is still ice-covered, we can see cracks and puddles here and there, the white starting to darken in places.

After some discussion, we decide to try paddling in from a nearby river and see how far we can get. Although my tendinitis is recovering nicely (hey, I actually MANUALLY TYPED most of this Blathering!), I don't want to risk another setback, so I sit in the middle of the canoe while JBR and Jeff do the paddling.



Sample of thicker ice still on the lake near
the shore, about 4-5 inches thick.

Not having to worry about paddling, I sit very still in the canoe (it would be bad to tip in these icy waters) as we slip between ice and shoreline, the sound of trickling of water broken occasionally by the hiss of ice slush against the bow, or the thuds of thicker ice.



Note the ice drifting in from the right.

The thicker the ice ahead, of course, the more difficult to navigate through. We had only expected to get partway along the shoreline before having to get out and hike the rest of the way through the bush, but the lake is generous today; we make it all the way to the cottage by canoe:





There is no power at the cottage; a line must be down somewhere. Jeff calls hydro to let them know, but it could be a day or two before it's restored, possibly more. If we stay overnight, it means that we'll all sleep in JBR's cabin, the best-insulated and with a woodstove. Jeff and I would sleep on the floor in sleeping bags.

Though I am too drugged on Dayquil to have any alcohol, JBR and Jeff celebrate the trip as usual:





Even though it's clear we are a tad early for ice-out, the expedition is well worth it. There's nothing like standing on the deck and looking out across a mostly-frozen lake beneath a blinding blue sky, chill spring breeze ruffling your hair and clothes, a sense of anticipation permeating everything: the air, the sunlight, the shifting ice.





We decide not to stay overnight. Lack of electricity isn't the only factor in our decision. Weather predictions are for rain the next day, which means we'll be paddling out in the cold and wet...probably not the greatest for my cold. Also, even in the few hours we were at the cottage, the ice had started to shift, pressing up against the dock. There is a concern that if it moves enough to block our path back out, we may be stuck here for longer than anticipated, or face a very long hike out through thick brush.



The ice was already starting to close over clear water
while we were at the cottage.


We decide to head back home. Paddling out is somewhat more of a challenge than paddling in because of the shifting ice, with some ice-chopping necessary:





Looking forward to going back in May!

April 2004 comments: Read | Post | LJ