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Where Did Winter Go?
It’s rare that you’ll hear someone from Up North complain
about spring coming too early. But I expect to hear mild moaning - mine
- as days turn longer and brighter and the earliest crocus push through
snow, when snow comes. (A spring storm is on the way.)
I’m not ready to exchange the tassel cap and sweatshirt for
the straw hat. As I write this just before March, the snowblower has
yet to leave the garage. It’s not that I feel a maniacal need to abuse
snow by jettisoning it through a high-powered machine … although there
is some pleasure in that compared to jettisoning my back out of whack
with a loaded snow shovel. No, I just feel cheated if I haven’t enjoyed
a full season of weather that shows how much tougher we are than the
rest of the country.
 Most of this winter, the rest of the country made my town look
winter wimpy. While I contemplated the dried grass visible under the
swing, hay was being airlifted to Oklahoma cows stranded by snowdrifts.
Oh, sure, we made the national news for some subzero temperatures
and were on Good Morning America when a newscaster came to Duluth,
threw boiling water into the air to see it immediately vaporize and
then went home to a warmer city almost faster than the water
disappeared. But other than moments of seasonal glory, well, let’s just
say spring is springing without a real winter wintering.
Now, don’t get me wrong, spring will still be a thrill. Preparing
this issue got me revived up for warm weather. The special Recreation
Guide especially is jammed with temptations: Boating on the Big Lake,
cool (not cold) swimming beaches (I’m thinking “quick dip circle tour”)
and a smattering of birding, biking and hiking tips. Our feature on
efforts to revive coaster brook trout brings out my angler tendencies.
I already toured deep in an Upper Peninsula copper mine, and in this
issue, you can join me on that adventure.
But with all the bright days to come, I still lament the full
winter we didn’t have. Now, with the whining done, I must say that this
unusual winter brought amazing interludes.
For the first time in my memory, people in Duluth were able to ice
skate on Lake Superior. Out of our office windows we saw folks gliding
out to the red buoy and back. Wondrous … and a wee bit risky; ice can
come and go within hours.
The lack of snow and a cold snap seemed to quick-freeze the lake
ice to a looking-glass smoothness and a window-glass clarity. You could
see through the ice to the bottom as you skated. Or, as happened to
John Williams, you could skate over a shipwreck not identified before
near Park Point. That kind of casual discovery, with no sonar, no
diving equipment and not even the decency of a boat, has to frustrate
wreck hunters who put in long, dedicated hours. (Read more about this
newest discovery in Around the Circle.)
Ice fishing folk, of course, found a way to pursue fish. In fact,
the newest member of our office family had quite a fishy tale to tell.
Brenda and her husband, Mike, were ice fishing (plausible). She
caught a huge, absolutely huge, walleye (okay, possible). They took
photos with their digital camera (I would), but when they were ready to
go home, Mike suggested one more photo. Here it starts to sound
“fishy.” The walleye came suddenly to life and plunged back through the
ice hole. Mike dove after it and knocked the camera into the hole.
Lost: the fish and the evidence (hmmm). Then came the amazing turn.
Mike went fishing in the same place and caught … the camera, with the
digital card intact and evidence of the fish. Just like that, situation
saved. (Really, see the fish under this issue’s supplements at
www.lakesuperior.com.)
Did I mention that there was a snowstorm coming? We will get to use
that snowblower yet. And the crocuses can still push up through
something wonderful.
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