I live along a stretch of curvy Minnesota highway known locally as, “the lake road.” While the weather was still balmy, I’d occasionally walk into town–ducking along the side and trying to avoid traffic by staying to the [in some cases very] narrow shoulder.
When the snow came, I started whining about how I could no longer safely traverse the road on foot, and thinking I might as well just embrace the dreaded winter “muffin top” over my long johns because I wasn’t going to get any exercise.
As much as I like the idea of a gym membership, it seems kind of silly to me to have to drive somewhere to work out when I should be able to just walk out my door. But there’s only so many times I can mount those 37 steps up to the road and run back down without looking like a crazy woman. About three times, I think.
So, my son and I spent a few hours sledding our hill this weekend, and as we were heading at break-neck speed toward the trees, we saw a group of snowmobilers race by across the frozen surface of the lake. Toward town.
And my big, dumb brain went, “A-ha!” Why would I walk along the narrow, slippery highway when I can walk, snowshoe, or ski down the lake and into town? I’ve got a twenty-six-mile-long frozen highway in my backyard!
Of course, to anyone who’s lived here for any length of time, that probably seems like a dumb excuse for a revelation. Well, excuse me. I’ve never lived on a lake before.
I’ve got my snowshoes out already–hence the new, more seasonal header image. I found those babies for a good price at a thrift store down in Vermillion about a month ago, and I ventured just a little way out on the ice with them the other day. Not sure how far it’s safe to go yet, and I didn’t want to find out I was wrong. Dead wrong.
This morning, the dog started going nuts by the back door, and I was trying to figure out what her barking, growling fuss was about. I mean, she was really letting someone or something know they were suspect.
Turns out there was a car way in the middle of the lake towing an ice shanty into place for the season’s fishing. I think the dog’s worldview was just so rattled by the sight of a little house and car in the middle of a great expanse of water that she had to sound off about it.
But then, she’s never lived on a lake before, either.