Ice, Train, Otter Tracking

   

Fifty years can be a long time. Hard to believe that this week in 1964 the Beatles made their first visit to our side of the Atlantic Ocean. The genius of the Liverpool’s Fab Four stirred up the creative soup for millions. And John Lennon’s later release, Imagine, said what we were all doing when the world heard them sing.
     The imagination is a powerful thing. It can turn a dull moment in a shiny one with the blink of a thought. And imagination gives relief from budget talks, Olympic disappointments and worry over the ending of passenger service from the Sault to Hearst. Yoikes. How could CN do such a thing? Don’t the shareholders know that the ACR train is a unique portal into a deep enchanting wilderness? I say get Bill and Melinda Gates to take a trip up the ACR. Then they might understand the importance of our beloved route. But enough of that rant. I’m here to talk about what’s happening on Lake Superior.
     This is a rare year. The lake is freezing over. Now the advance of the ice almost is complete. Eleven years ago, in 2003, the lake almost froze over, except for the western areas along the Minnesota shoreline. But it was seventeen years ago, in 1997, that Superior last felt the total freeze up.
     This has been quite a rapid solidification of the water. According to NOAA Great Lakes Forecasting System, on January 10 Superior had 37% ice cover. On February 10 the report was 88% ice cover but, really, for all intents and purposes, there is ice everywhere. We can imagine it or even see it for ourselves as a satellite image at Lake Superior Modis Imagery. An adventurous soul could walk, ski or snowshoe from Whitefish Bay to Michipicoten Bay. A wild daring one could imagine a journey across the centre of the lake where NOAA says there is “an unusual presence of ice”!
     Myself, I stick pretty close to shore. I’ve witnessed too many storms and deep waters to have full confidence on the big white. Seeing the ice form also magnifies the illusion that a sudden CRACK could open up an abyss. Before there is a solid surface there is a constant toing and froing of pack ice. There was such a buildup of ice sheets this year that in some places there has to be a solid 3 metres of broken up mass, straight to the bottom. What a wild world it must be under there.

Otter Track

     Two days ago I took to my skis and inhaled some sunshine, fresh air and the quiet beauty of the vast frozen lake. There wasn’t a breath of wind and the sparkles on the ice and snow were fairy dust. I slid around the remains of broken pack ice, the sharp shards rising like shark fins, falcon wings or dragon teeth. After rounding a nearby point, my skis took me beside the unmistakeable tracks of an otter. When no one was there to watch, the winsome creature had ventured out onto the ice also. The length of its slide was amazing, almost the length of my skis. I followed the tracks for a while and saw where the otter had been sitting in a small ice cave along the shore. The otter’s trail then led me to a remarkable, almost unbelievable discovery. At the very tip of the point, I could see marks were the athletic creature had emerged from a crack in the ice.

Otter Hole

     Somehow, using its nature given gifts, the otter had manoeuvred its way through the mash of pack ice. I imagined its’ route, as the otter must have dipped and dove around huge broken underwater slabs. I visualized it seeking the light, holding its breath then emerging above ice. What a journey.
This broad white plain before us has a magnetic call. We dream of fishing holes or ski trips and other worlds on the far side. This is our brief time with the frozen lake. Best to take time to enjoy this phenomenon. For who knows when it will come again?