In 1995 we had the coldest winter in 100 years. The ice froze from one side to the other on one of the prettiest lakes in the country, Lake Superior. Knowing this, I was looking forward to a skidoo trip along the shoreline of the lake from Sand River to Wawa. The end of this trip proved to be one of the happiest moments in my life.
 
I got up at 6:00 a.m. on a cold Friday morning, sat at my kitchen table and looked outside at the steam coming out of my neighbor's chimney. This told me that it was another very cold day. I sat there sipping on a coffee contemplating whether or not to make this dangerous trip.
 
Getting up the nerve, I said to myself, "self” lets go. I got all my gear together, loaded up my skidoo, picked up a coffee to go, and headed out. When I got to the river and got out of my truck I could hear the trees snapping from the extreme cold. This almost changed my mind. Looking back at this day, I wish it had. It took me a long time to unload my machine because of the cold, but when I did it didn't take me long to take off. The lake was rough from the ice being pushed up on its self day after day. I drove for what seemed like hours until I got to a large section of open water, so much for my long trip to Wawa. I went to the shore and got a nice fire going, had lunch and headed back to the truck. By then the sun was shining and it was beautiful. You could see all the huge rock cliffs with ice built up on them making the shoreline resemble one monstrous waterfall.

As I was following the track I left behind on my way to Wawa I looked ahead to see something weird. It looked like a dark line in the distance, but as I got closer it was a nightmare. The offshore wind, that I wasn't aware of, blew a large section of ice out from the shore, leaving me on the ice between two bodies of open water. The shoreline between was nothing but a sheer rock cliff. The only thing I could think of doing was to drive away from the shore and hope to find a connection of ice to cross over. About 2-3 miles out the ice that broke away earlier had separated into large pans. I was tempted to try and cross these pans put there was too much distance between each one.
 
Daylight was now coming to an end and the decision had to be made to either keep going out on the lake or head back to the shoreline. Realizing that my gas situation was low, I turned around and went back. All kinds of horrible things went through my mind as I slowly made my way back along the edge of the ice. About 1 mile from shore I noticed that there was a bridge of ice that broke away. It looked like it was connecting each side. With no other choice I got on it and tried to cross. Nearing the opposite side I had to stop because there was about 25 feet of open water separating me from the other side. I turned around and went back only to find there the same thing happened where I got on this large pan. This time I didn't stop but ran my machine wide open and skipped over the open water to the good side. My heart was pounding as I stopped my skidoo and put head on the handle bars. Sitting there like that for several minutes with my eyes closed I made the decision too, because I had already crossed open water, run it on both sides. I backed up far enough for a good run at it, took my boots off, tied them to my machine and floored it. The first bit of open water was no problem. As I was getting closer to the other section, the ice pan had drifted 15 or 20 feet further from the other side. No time to change my mind, I just closed my eyes and hoped for the best. My machine skipped across the water and hit the other side hard enough to bring it to a complete stop and throw me off the skidoo. The machine stayed upright and I was lying on the ice in pain but relieved.
 
You have no idea how happy I was to get back in my truck start it, and wait for the heat to come. I sat there for hours and looked back at the physical and mental hardships I had just encountered. But at the same time still alive and surviving what could have been the longest night of my life, made this the happiest moment of my life.

Derek C.


© copyright 2006 Derek Chapman