April Wamhoff

So, in using all the prognosticating tools at my disposal— you know, the Weather Channel, years of research by the locals, my crystal ball, I predict that the ice will be off Lady V by fishing opener.
Now, don’t get me wrong here, I’m not willing to wager any hard cold cash on that, but the signs are there.
First, the landings are gone. I’m willing to concede there may still be a fair amount of ice on the lake, but I don’t think I want to jump the 30 or 40 or so yards from good ice to land with the side-by-side. I did watch a four-wheeler head out of Stuntz Bay landing a few days ago and while he was a much more skilled driver than I, and it was a fantastic rodeo, he still got stuck in a big bunch of very cold water.
And what about all this rain and wind? The snow is disappearing fast. It’s for sure getting very close to mud season as is evident by the dogs’ paws, so that must coincide with ice-off. The rain must be doing some damage to the ice and widening some of those cracks enough so the wind can get at it. My docks are up, and the shoreline is as ready as it ever is to take on those ice bergs.
My informant at the local coffee klatch, my dad, tells me that all the long-time residents, some forever, say that it’s going to make it. Now keep in mind, these are the guys that kept giving me a verbal pat on the back for five weeks, telling me that my car would be fine and there would be an opportunity to drive it right off the ice. (Yup, that was me, stuck out there.) And sure enough, after one hair-raising race across the ice behind the local daredevil and a tow over the bank, the jeep’s on dry land. (Thank you, Peas and Bob.) I ask, how can you doubt that kind of “ice” experience?
My neighbor, the west-end islander, has decided that he has made his last trip across until, as he calls it, soft water is back. That’s a sign that big things are brewing, I think.
Lastly, and of course, very scientifically-proven, I know Lady V is ready for soft water. She’s ready for the icebergs and the twinkling ice crystals to give way to clear water. She’s ready to give up the Ski-doos and fish houses in exchange for the Lunds and houseboats. She’s just ready for a new spring season.
She’s a lot like me.

April Wamhoff lives on Ely Island, on Lake Vermilion.