The Ice Road

In the summer it takes thirty minutes to drive to my friend Nancy's house on Burntside Lake. It's not too bad though, because you get to drive all around the lake and it's a beautiful lake. But, in the winter it takes ten minutes because I can drive across the lake. From shore to shore. Usually in January, some brave soul decides the time is right and plows a 50-foot wide trench across the whole lake, and the ice road is reborn.

Besides getting to my friend's house quicker, the ice road also brings me straight to my dad's favorite winter fishing spot. Well, straight is an exaggeration. The ice road has twists, turns and intersections … all without signs. To get to my dad's spot you turn right at the big island, curve past the old cabin on the shore, take a left at the big pine branch stuck in the snow bank, go past the three red icehouses close to the narrows and then head towards the lone pine. This made sense to my dad, but to a kid, it was just thrilling to be driving on a frozen lake.

Not only did this road lack signs, it also lacked rules. Well, except for two. According to my dad, I had to roll down my window and unbuckle my seat belt. I don't remember ever asking why, I just thought they were great rules. So, when we got onto the ice road, I rolled down my window and unbuckled my seat belt.

A few years ago, I drove on the ice road for the first time in years. I was taking my kids out to join my dad out at the old fishing spot. As we got onto the ice road, UI told my kids to roll down their windows and unbuckle their seat belts, and they asked, "Why?" Since I had never asked that question, I didn't have an answer. After thinking about it, I realized that it was safer to be unbuckled if the truck fell through the ice, and the open windows would allow us to float out easily. This thought startled me, and was not something I'd tell kids, so I answered, "It's more fun that way." They rolled down their windows and unbuckled.

We watched the shore go by as we turned right at the big island, curved past the old cabin, and drove right past the big pine branch. We stopped when the road ended, which was at an icehouse I didn't know. I yelled to the fishermen if they knew where Tom was, and they pointed back up the ice road, saying we missed the left at the pine branch. I drove back down the road, this time spotting the pine branch, then past the three red icehouses and finally saw my dad who was skimming the ice off one of the drilled holes.

I smiled, thinking that the ice road still gives me thrills.