| Faster
than the Wind |
| |
| A futile stab at winter's breast |
| The spring-like thaw did try. |
| But be not fooled by early blooms, |
| Because they often lie. |
| |
| The snow swirled among the trees, clinging to gray branches
and dried oak leaves, making the landscape look like a scene
from the Russian east country. On top of a month-old three
feet of snow, the new, fresh, six-inch blanket lay softly
on the ground, covering the January grime. |
| We were at the beginning of a short winter vacation, and
were reveling in the cold and snow. |
| On the inland lake, just 300 yards or so before the ice
broke up in the current as it flowed through the wide channel
into Lake Michigan, ice fishermen huddled against the snow
and wind to pull out yellow perch. |
| It's been a good year for perch fishing. I've always thought
ice fishermen were bothered by some sort of suicidal mission
to freeze to death. And like my good friend Skip told me:
"I don't like to fish in summer. Why would I want to
fish in winter?" |
| He should talk. |
| He and his wife, Joanie, both have ice boats„sailboats with
three tiny skates and yards of sail on them some of which
can fly across frozen lakes at speeds that approach 120 miles
per hour. Skip's boat has a top speed of about 65 mph, and
his wife's boat is a little slower than that. So who's counting?
Talk about suicidal missions. |
| Their attempt to get my wife, Betsy, to try her hand sailing
one of these boats brought terror to her face. All she had
to remember was that as a young girl she flunked sailing school.
Surprisingly, she did not say no. She only asked if they had
an extra helmet. Brave woman, my wife. Foolish. But brave. |
| To make matters worse, Skip wanted me to watch Betsy try
to avoid the ice fishing shanties and the open water of the
channel at 40 mph by pushing my wheelchair out on the lake
a couple of hundred feet. Now there's a sight for you: Some
guy in a wheelchair wrapped up in his down-filled coat wearing
his Michigan State stocking cap and unable to move anywhere
because wheelchairs don't do well on ice. |
| Matter of fact, I don't do well on ice. |
| I thought watching the whole craziness would be much more
pleasant sitting in my cozy house on the lake, drinking coffee
while staring through my binoculars and trying to figure out
why people ice fish and sail ice boats at speeds much faster
than the wind. |
| But just as nature presented to us the opportunity to kill
ourselves on the ice, it also saved all of us. That night,
and into the next day, it snowed too much to ice sail. Thank
you, Mother Nature. Thank you. Secretly, I think Betsy also
said, "Thank you, Mother Nature. Thank you." |
| We spent the day drinking coffee, playing bridge and planning
that night's dinner. As far as I was concerned, it was a touch
better than sitting in my ice-bound wheelchair on some frozen
lake. |
| Dr. Zhivago I'm not. |
| When we left this heaven on earth the lake was still frozen,
it was still snowing, the ice fishermen were still pulling
perch out of holes in the lake, and the ice boaters were flying
across the ice at speeds faster than sanity. |
| I can't wait to get back. |
| And that's Our Town this week. |
