We bundled up and walked onto the lake, just like we’d done so many times in the past few weeks. We laced our skates and tightened the knots. The kids took off across the ice, and I followed them.
Then I heard — or maybe I felt — the ever-so-slightest crack.
My body stiffened as momentum continued my glide across the ice, and my eyes scanned the rink for evidence — a crevice? a pool of water? Nothing. But I thought I saw black ice at the end of the rink.
I yelled for the kids to stay on the other end, and jumped off the ice into a tall pile of snow. I started frantically explaining to my husband what I’d experienced and what I saw. He rationalized with me. There was no reason to be afraid. Our ice shack sits closeby, on 18 inches of solid ice, and he’d just plowed the rink with a four-wheeler the day before. The snowstorm left an additional 16 inches of heavy snow, and the weight of it must have caused lake water to push up through tiny cracks in the surface. The top three inches had been solid slush, and only the top inch of slush had fully hardened, so it might be a little weak, but the ice below was good.
If it could hold a four-wheeler, surely it could hold us.
But I still stood rigid on the snow piled around the rink. I couldn’t explain why I was so scared.
We argued. He gave me a look that said, “Why don’t you just lighten up and have some fun?”
He said, “What do you want me to do?”
And I replied, “I’d like you to be a little more understanding.”
So he trudged through the slushy snow to the ice shack to retrieve his auger. He brought it back to the rink and drilled a hole 10 feet from the edge. Eighteen inches of ice, underneath the snow and slop.
I thanked him, but still didn’t move. He demonstrated how he could force the blade on his skate through the first layer of the frozen slush, but that it rested on solid ice underneath the not-yet-fully-frozen slush.
But I reminded him of that dark spot at the end of the rink.
So he walked over to the spot, staying in the piled snow — and poked his broom handle through, to show it was just the slushy top that hadn’t hardened yet.
The entire four-foot broom handle plunged into the water.
Sometimes we look so hard for logic. No rule about ice safety could explain this. We shared a shocked stare as we finally embraced the reality we had tried so hard to debate.
And in an uncharacteristic defeat, my proud husband said:
“I guess you were right.”
There’s a first time for everything.
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Tags: black ice, ice skating, safety, Wisconsin
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12:35 am
That made me have gurgles deep in my tummy.
I am reminded to always trust my intuition.
I tell my daughters that, too. If something feels wrong, then trust your instincts.
1:04 am
Oh my word – did that happen this weekend? How scary…so glad for woman’s intuition and God’s covering. One things for sure, I won’t have any reason to worry about that here in Alabama!
2:40 am
Pamela — I read the book, “The Gift of Fear” once, years ago, and that’s what it explained too. Intuition really is a gift, but we’re socialized to blow it off.
Tonya — Yes, it happened just this weekend.
Thank you both for your comments!
3:29 am
Thank goodness you stood your ground! Can you imagine what could have happened? That just goes to show that you can never be too careful. I’m glad everyone is okay!
4:00 am
Kailani – I know! I felt like I was being silly. I’m so glad I listened to myself!
9:06 pm
[...] (But, if you read Sunday’s post, you know they probably won’t be on the rink anymore this year…) [...]
1:24 pm
Oh. My.
I grew up in Iowa and learned to skate on lakes and ponds. For some reason, I never worried about falling through the ice (though every winter, you’d hear of at least one case of a snow mobile or 4×4 breaking through).
Now that I live in a place where the ponds don’t freeze (Portland, Ore.), I wax nostalgic about skating outside.
Eh, maybe it’s not so great after all!
1:40 pm
Intuition: Use it or lose it. Glad you are all OK.
3:19 pm
Did you see Hockey God gave you a mention? http://morehockeylesswar.org/
Thank you for the head’s up!
7:26 pm
[...] I’m glad I snapped photos when I did. Our rink may be closed for the season. [...]
9:55 am
Huh? I left a looooonnnng comment on this. Where is it?
Must’ve slipped through the ice :/.
Soooo thankful you’re okay.
Durn it, I hate it when a comment gets lost…:(
9:13 am
[...] Wisconsin in winter or summer? Canada? [...]