Sledding in Lyndale Farmstead Park

Location Coordinates:
44°55'49"N,
93°17'35"W
Lyndale Farmstead Park
Minneapolis, MN

A white Christmas was something I never experienced growing up in southern California. We were sometimes treated to wet Christmases, or maybe a windy Christmas, but never a white Christmas. Snow was an exotic substance that you saw glistening on the mountains as you stood in the valley below. Occasionally our family would pack up the car and drive up to places like Wrightwood, Lake Arrowhead, or Big Bear to play in the snow. We pulled on three or four pairs of socks and doubled up on sweaters under an overcoat, grabbed our little round sleds, packed a lunch with a thermos of hot chocolate, and headed up for adventure. My dad battled bumper to bumper traffic as all the "flatlanders" from the LA basin trekked up the mountain roads to throw snowballs at each other and skim down the icy hills on various forms of sliding contraptions. Looking back, it really was a lot of work to pull off a little winter entertainment.

Now I'm a Minnesotan, and snow is no longer exotic. It arrives in November and doesn't depart until March or April. But I still have an appreciation for its beauty and all the fun winter activities it enables. And having a fun snow adventure is a whole lot easier now than needing to drive to a distant mountain locale with lots of other people. Now I simply throw on my coat and snow pants and head out for cross country skiing, snowshoeing, or ice fishing. Or, I can simply walk across the street to an ideal sledding hill. Area residents flock to Lyndale Farmstead Park as soon as the first flakes fly to glide down a perfect bowl-shaped slope. No traffic, no long lines for a ski lift, just the simple good times of a toboggan and a hill. It is a little bit of Currier & Ives viewed right out of my kitchen window.

The year 2010 will be ending in just a few hours, and I'm very excited about my plans for photographic activities in 2011. It is going to be a great year. Stay tuned!

Lake Harriet Ice Over

Location Coordinates:
44°55'17"N, 93°18'19"W
Lake Harriet
Minneapolis, Minnesota

Earlier this year I wrote about the annual event known as Ice Out, which is the date our lakes become ice free in the spring. Each of Minnesota's thousands of lakes has its own Ice Out date depending upon the characteristics of the lake in question. It stands to reason, then, that each lake also has an Ice Over date in the winter - the date the surface of the lake obtains a solid frozen covering from shore to shore. This year I wasn't able to pinpoint the exact Ice Over date for my local lake, but it was achieved sometime between December 2nd and December 7th.

 

After a much warmer than average early November, our first major snowfall occurred on November 13th. I missed this event; I was basking in the warm 75+ degree temperatures of late fall in southern California on that day. When I returned to Minnesota a week later on the 20th, I was thrust abruptly into winter with a fifty-degree temperature drop coupled with freezing rain which glazed the roads and turned the remnants of the first snow into something akin to concrete. My favorite season had definitely vanished while I was out of town, and winter was robustly announcing its arrival in the upper Midwest.

The first ice I noticed on Lake Harriet was the day after Thanksgiving as my daughter and I walked around the lakeshore working off those extra holiday calories. A rugged ice shelf of about twenty yards had extended from shore towards the center of the lake. Where solid ice met water, jagged ice chunks bobbed about, which gave off a sound similar to a giant punchbowl filled with ice being rocked back and forth. But a late-November warm up quickly dissipated much of this initial icing. 




December roared in with another sharp blast of cold, and by the time I walked around the lake on December 2nd a much smoother, clear sheet of ice was setting up across the lake's surface. As in the spring when the ice broke, I became captivated by the sounds coming from this new ice. As newly formed ice sections moved and grinded into each other the lake sounded as if it was groaning. It was eerie hearing these strange noises emanating from such a familiar place, but at the same time it was completely fascinating.



What a difference five days can make in the life of a lake. By the time I next ventured to the lakeshore on December 7th it had completely frozen over. Granted, the ice crust was dangerously thin, but all the same it is amazing that such a large body of water can freeze over in a relatively short period. So now the pretty lake, so active with sailboats in the warmer months, has transitioned to a solid field of white upon which cross-country skiers will glide and winter festival-goers will tread. And so it goes - one season to the next . .