Slush

Today we decided to go outside and take advantage of the nearly tropical weather before it drops again. (25F) We invited a group to go with us and headed out to the lake with our ice fishing and picnic gear. Kendall took Eli to a friend's house to borrow his snowmobile. The two of them met us at the lake, after coming across snowmobile trails and a couple lakes. Kendall warned us that part of the lake (that we needed to go through to get to the other side) was slushy.

Now slush is an interesting thing that I never knew about before I met Kendall. Slush scares me. It can be a couple feet deep, but it hides under pure, innocent-looking snow. When we go through slush on the snowmobile, I feel like all that is between me and the great cold depths are a couple feet of soft, smushy slush. But Kendall and others have assured me that there is still plenty of hard ice there, it's just under the slush. Apparently, the 2 main dangers with slush are getting snowmobiles hopelessly stuck in it and getting wet and therefore dangerously cold.

As you can guess, this novice bushwoman has now experienced yet another aspect of the Great Dangers of the Wild North!

We started out onto the lake on foot. After going a very short distance onto the ice, Kendra and I decided that we would not be able to walk across the slush without getting our wet feet. It was just too wet and too deep. Practical (and perhaps wimpy) woman that I am, I began looking for a good fishing/picnic spot on this side of the slush. But along comes my fearless bushman on his white stallion (a.k.a. maroon snowmobile).

"Hop on!" says my fearless bushman. "Never fear! My handsome steed will get you safely to the other side!" So we hop on in this order: Eli in front, then Kendall, then Evan, then me. (My fearless bushman will come back for Kendra.) We load our gear on the sled behind the snowmobile. And we're off! 5 seconds later: Wait...oh shoot...can't...go...any...farther. We're hopelessly stuck. Our gear has a thick layer of slush sprayed onto it. But that's the least of our concerns.

The four of us are on a tiny island of machine in a sea of icy cold slush. Deep icy cold slush! Kendra stands helplessly 20 yards behind us on relatively dry land. (At least on real ice.) My fearless bushman once again assures me that we are safe. He jumps off our little island and begins to wade around in the slush. Ahhh...warm winter boots begin to let the water in. That's cold. Then Kendra is coming toward us. (She's no novice bushwoman.) Oops. Her feet are wet now too. She puts Eli on her back and slops back to dry land. Kendall tells me the grim news: "You have to get off the snowmobile. Your feet will get wet." So, much less bravely than Kendra, I gingerly step off the snowmobile. So far so good. My feet aren't wet. But I really can't just stand here. So I pick up Evan and start wading through the slush. Freezing! Cold! Water! But I'm not scared anymore. Just cold.

Meanwhile, Kendra slogged back through the slush to Kendall. After several attempts, with their boots getting ever fuller and feet getting ever colder, they freed the snowmobile. By the way, since I was just standing on dry land cheering them on (they needed encouragement, right?), the water in my boots actually seemed to be warming up. Kendall and Kendra's, however, had a constant source of new ice cold water as they moved around in the slush. Kendall drove out of the slush, then turned the snowmobile around and came flying back toward shore through the slush- No slowing down this time! And we made it out of there.

We weren't ready to give up our time outside, so Kendra and I rung the water out of our socks and headed back to the house to get three pairs of dry socks and boots. Then we had a great time at the fire. We stayed there with the group until dark.