The Icewalker’s Plunge

Mid January finds with a small amount of snow on the ground but nothing major. 6”-8” of powder snow isn’t much for this time of year really. Last year on this very day we had a snow storm that dropped several inches on us after a warm spell had left us with mostly bare ground. I was recovering from my artery incident then and wasn’t pushing myself too hard. Walking mostly but we managed a few other tasks around the cabin. It was a new chapter for me then.

I have been balancing my time between the valley and the Adirondacks since the end of fall to now as I mentioned recently in my last post. The biggest news recently is that with the help of the Amish carpenters we finally finished the siding on the cabin last week. Some soffit work remains but the weatherbeaten tarpaper is now all covered. Zane and I had sawn plenty of siding fortunately so there was no danger running out. We also removed some old rusty roofing from my Uncles barn up the road at the property where I had my first house in 1983. We repaired the lean to roofing boards and some structural damage before adding 4 sheets of new metal. The old metal matches some that my Dad had repurposed from the old garage that used to be here before the 2012 house fire. He used it on the sugar house here and I may need it also for the cabin. I started out just wanting some old metal to put on the wall behind the new wood stove in the cabin above the Drury brick hearth. But then I decided that I want old metal on the ceiling in the new addition of the cabin. It remains to be seen if we will have enough to do all our work. It’s stashed outside and needs a very thorough cleaning. Maybe I will flip it upside down and show the underside which has no rust. The design on the metal is what makes it special. A wave type pattern repeats itself a long the length of the 2’ wide siding. It’s very unique! We had a couple of rather cold days last week while doing our outdoor work but we soldiered through despite!

The repairs after the removal of the old roofing

By last Thursday I decided that I needed a day to just catch up on a few things around the cabin. The carpenters had finished their work here that they had time for by Wednesday afternoon. So I hauled some firewood and stocked up the cabin woodshed. Keeping firewood stocked for the cabin keeps me rather busy actually especially on cold days like we had last week. It’s noteworthy that I had just installed a ventilation fan in the loft floor of the cabin and ducted it into the new addition. With more insulation in place it has been heating well since. The loft is much cooler as a result. Before it was way too hot up there most nights while the back portion of the cabin stayed rather cool. I think things will balance out well now. As for the firewood, I have been hauling it down from the old granary up behind the barn where it was stored last spring. Super dry hardwood slab wood from the sawmill project at my friend Gregger’s last spring. It just needs a bit of splitting here and there. The mixed cherry and yellow birch make a super hot fire. Before too long we will need to cut and haul in some dry red elm that’s burn ready. Our current supply of firewood won’t last until spring.

The siding progresses.

By Thursday afternoon I was ready for an outdoor outing so I decided to snowshoe down Beaver Creek if the ice was ok. There barely enough snow to need snowshoes but I wore them anyway.Upon reaching the edge of the marsh where the grass is thick, I quickly realized that the ice wasn’t all that great. I struggled out through the bogs breaking through in several shallow spots before reaching the bare open sections. But even here the ice was very thin and weak! It wasn’t looking good but I didn’t want to backtrack across the crappy bog part so I pressed on. Slowly and cautiously, I might add! The ice was fickle and unpredictable. Some spots were ok but my tapping beaver sticks would detect hollow sounding spots below the snow covered surface. Death traps I call them. I managed to skirt several tricky spots and reached a deeper wider section of the main channel. After one rather close call I chose a shortcut on a smaller side channel that held me up rather well. I soon reached the area we call “The Deep Hole”. It seemed like decent ice but was slushy on top. A sure sign of thin ice being pushed down by the weight of the snow. I became even more cautious and my forward progress became even slower. I noticed an active beaver lodge and was happy to see them occupying the area. They come and go from this spot on occasion but continue to occupy it mostly. I knew that I could never hope to get across the main beaver dam that spans the creek here. It’s a challenge at times even with much better ice. I approached the dam and laughed when the dog almost broke through where she was walking next to it. I was trying to get close enough to what we call the “Big Cliff” to get photos of some large icicles hanging from a section of it. Without warning I suddenly plunged through the ice with both snowshoes! There was no cracking first or anything suspicious! Just a death trap breakthrough! I was held up by beaver stick walking sticks fortunately and for a second was expecting the shock of cold water filling my boots! But I lunged up onto my knees and somehow avoided getting wet! My nylon hiking pants were so tight around my boots that no water got in! My knees got a little wet but that was nothing. Snow on ice is the great insulator and the death traps are invisible from above. Even the tapping and probing of the beaver sticks fails me at times. Just one of my many plunges over the years I suppose.

The plunge hole!

At this point I lost my desire to ice walk any further! I cautiously and nervously backtracked my way to a channel that got me safely ashore in the stand of white cedars known as “ The Cedars”. This tiny grove has been here my entire life. Never really getting any larger or much smaller. Sometimes the beaver cut a few and years ago we cut out some big dead ones for salvage. The Cedars seems ageless although I didn’t see any of the tamaracks that once lived alongside the cedars. Perhaps they are all gone. The cedars contains a couple of boggy spring holes that never freeze. I used to trap here as a young boy for raccoon. In winter I trapped ermine under the shelter of the cedars in small cubby sets. I used wax paper to keep my traps from freezing. I once caught a red fox here also. My ermine traps were empty most of the time but I didn’t care. I became familiar with the area and loved its remote feeling of winter beauty out of sight of the road and the farm buildings. I was destined to desire to explore this area and all that lay beyond it was I grew a bit older. The marsh was my classroom and I was an interested student who showed up frequently. And the spirit of the Icewalker was forged here. Not of molten metal but of ice and snow. Adversity would thrill me here. Wet feet and cold hands. Frosty cheeks and nose at times. Those were cold winters. Some nights my Father would not let me run my small trap line because of the cold and approaching darkness. But I would return soon and resume my frosty activities. There are many memories here in the marsh of the big gorge. Perhaps that’s why I return each winter.

After a rest and the reminiscing, I tackled the cut up the side of steep ravine that would take me towards the Homestead cabin where the warm wood stove awaited. I stopped at one point and gazed back at the marsh. I was disappointed that the ice had not been better for traveling. And I pondered several things then. How many times had I stood in this exact spot over the years? How different the winters are now. How much older I had become. And how the draw to run the ice and call myself the Icewalker had never diminished. How long would I try? How many winters would gift me the opportunity? Such thoughts became too much then so I chose something far different to break the serious moment. I spoke with my best Arnold Schwarzenegger imitation downhill towards the marsh: “I’ll Be Back!”. But no one heard me but the dog and a few disinterested winter birds. But that was fine. I know that I will be back if good fortune and good health continue to favor me. And I will play the game of staying on top of the ice as I move forward to explore the further reaches of the gorge of the big creek called Beaver. I have no fear there. Just respect for this beautiful and enchanting place. I have traveled the ice here more times than I can remember now. What adventures I have had! I will be watching and waiting for signs of better ice. Then I will set out once again! And not forgetting the Icewalker’s motto: The distance in must be traveled out!” It is enough! ✍️

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