Ready Set Stop!

The phone rings these days, at our perch on the north shores of mighty Lake Mille Lacs, as often as the Salvation Army bell ringers ding greets you walking into the grocery store. The inbox on the puter doubles in size every time I turn around. Rarely, at this time of year, does the theme on the other end of those calls and emails deviate from one question. "How's the ice?" Not "how's it goin'? Or "how's your favorirte wife?"
As a kid living on the shores of Frost Bite Flats, I would inch my fish house toward the cold waves on the big lake, closer and closer in early December. One morning the lake would be a skim of ice as far as the eyes could see. And it would be time to practice starting the wood fire in the little air tight fish house stove. The old man would demonstrate how, in a rocket science fashion, to lay out the kindling on top of strips of birch bark before putting on bigger wood chunks. Then, with the house still on shore, lines got rigged, the floor got swept and the candles used during the prime dawn and dusk bite got accounted for. All was ready. The bobbers were set. But then, as usual, the big lake made us stop. The skim of ice, that had grown thick enough to creep onto a few yards, would blow open and become waves again. The old man would be ready, again, to give another lesson on building a fire.
Forty plus five to ten years later, this past week would re-kindle the early December routine I grew up with. I moved my fish house closer to the shoreline, poised to make the daring, first venture onto the new ice. Heck, I even added a new fish house to the arsenal this fall. And with that, I had to give a lesson to it's rookie user on how to light the stove. (Have times changed? Am I now the "old man" on the scene?) From my perch high above the north shoreline, we could see ice as far as my weather beaten eyes would allow. Calls and emails from every five mile section of surrounding shorelines verified what we saw. Yup! It was time to make sure the stove kicked on, the mantels for the lights were accounted for, and the jigging spoons were shined up. And the rookie? He could get the heat on with only one flick of his Bic. Things were ready. Everything and everybody was set.
Stop! Yesterday, as it got daylight in the swamp, the view from my perch changed. It went from glass smooth to a movement on the horizon that looked like a bunch of saw-teeth. The phone calls and emails from the east and south came in asking "do you have waves on the lake today?"
Now I know how a Viking offensive lineman feels when he's called for a false start. Now I gotta huddle up and go through the same routine this week. The good thing is, there's still a little room between the fish house and shore, so it can be moved a little closer. I'll have to check to see if the rookie can still flick his Bic again. Will the next cold snap be the one? Ready...set....???!!
contact Steve at 651-270-3383 or sf1954@embarqmail.com