Subject: very humbling: sailing into a hole.
It was glorious sailing on Chickie today, but there were areas where patches of wind-blown, new-fallen snow covered unknown ice conditions.. I was skimbatting on clear ice over by 'Roberts Alley' in gusty wind, when it occurred to me there might also be nice ice over on the road side of the lake. I didn't like what was in the middle of the lake, but....
I came about and, about the middle of the lake, sailed over a snowy patch. I would have avoided that patch on skates, but with a skimbat, it was hard to avoid such a long, strung-out obstacle.                                           Before I knew it, one skate went thru, then the other and I was shouting 'damn, damn, damn in a continuous mantra, as I sunk to my shoulders in very deep water.
I tried to pull myself out with my gloves, but the ice edge kept braking off. So I unlooped the claws from around my neck, reached as far onto the ice as I could and, still chanting my mantra, pulled myself up on the ice, which, at that point, was fairly thick.
By that time, Lloyd was at hand, thank heavens. He tended the skimbat while I got myself vertical, and he insisted that I sail back without delay. I, actually, in a flash of good thinking, was thinking of sailing around a bit to "warm up" ! Alas, I was too shocked to sail effectively, so I followed Lloyd's advice to de-
power the sail and be blown back to the launch site. In retrospect, I needed to be told exactly what to do, and to quit resisting.
we waddled, me weighing 40 lbs more, up to the house where, a hot shower, new clothes, tea and scones, and some yarns put me to rights. Marge was there, also a casuality of the day's icecapades,
with a broken arm in a complicated sling.
funny, I had been wishing for an occasion to practice 'taking a swim'... guess I got it.....
sure glad I had those claws handy.... and that Lloyd has the same size clothes...

Subject: reflections from under the dunce cap.

Woke up this morning.... so glad to see another dawn....determined, by some wierd connection, to work on my high colesterol....and thought I'd share these obvious things we all know:
1. Wear your ice claws around your neck every time you're on the ice. with claws, it was pretty easy, even with enormous nordic skates and gobs of clothing, to pull myself out along the ice, even though I couldn't push down on the edge. without handy claws, I shudder at the possible outcome. once recently on Plymouth Pond, I had
carried the claws in a fanny pack, which, with gloves I never could have unzipped underwater.

2. Always go on the ice with a buddy.
having Lloyd there quickly yesterday was redundancy, and we sailors and fliers know the value of that

3. The biggest hazards may unfold once you've gotten out of the water.
I'm amazed how that frigid shock took away all my intelligence.
That's where the buddy is so important. I swear I could have sailed off into another hole, or delayed getting immediate warmth because of the prideful denial of my carelessness.

4. A pond with lots of unmarked hazards is not safe for sailing. when you're on skates, you can turn easily, stop easily, see perfectly. But once there's a sail involved, you're so distracted, limited in stopping and turning, vision partly
blocked, and so often disoriented. So when sailing in involved, the every single hazard must be well marked.

Yesterday Chickie was 2/3 hazard! and along a jagged unmarked line across the lake, which I thought I had memorized while on skates.

5. Watch out for times when emotional factors cloud your good judgement. Yesterday, I was so starved for local, skatible ice. I knew rain was coming...So I pushed ahead breaking rules I knew well.

I hope this is helpful. I think Lloyd said there are two kinds of iceboaters--those who have taken a swim and those who will before long...
but....I still feel like a dunce....



January 24:

Yesterday was so special, shall I go again, or
put up ceiling tiles for the two widows -75 and 95--living together in my neighborhood?

Jory's Mental Health Program stipulates that
part of every day needs to be out in nature, especially in winter, especially in sunshine, so I headed again to Alfred lake. Work tomorrow... for sure...
Another 1/4" of snow had fallen, and as I wiped the snow clear, it still swept clear but less easily. It was slightly bound to the ice, probably as a result of yesterday's strong afternoon sun. Yesterday's wind has almost obscured my tracks, which were joined this morning with those of a fox, evenly trotting
in the same direction on large padded winter paws. The light, was-- if this is possible--even more blinding, and I doubled up sunglasses. Not the slightest huff of wind.
Amazingly, the skating was as fast as before, maybe faster; and I soon discarded my poles and worked on my form, trying to make each glide move straight ahead instead of curving, and equalizing
the pushes from right and left. Slowly, slowly, I slid into that magic....

Subject: great skating on Megunticook

I was on my way to Alfred Lake this afternoon, and saw lots of ATV's out at Bog Bridge on Lake Megunticook. Why drive 12 miles, when you can drive 2? So I put on my skates.

Every year there seems to be a favored lake, and recently its been Alfred. But last year, it was certainly Megunticook; so I didn't
wanted to forsake an old friend. I skated on fairly smooth ice, with 1" of snow, in the bays around Bog Bridge, and then, taking courage, headed on the long trail North on the Route 105 side.
None of the fishermen I talked to had less than 6" of ice, and though the ice sometimes wasn't glassy smooth under the snow; when
it was bumpy, Nordic skates could smooth it out. Bright sunny afternoon, and enough glide in the skating to be lots of fun.
On the way north, you pass the 'cliffs' section which in the afternoon sun is like a solar magnifier, and one of the prettiest spots imaginable. Big purple cliffs drop straight down to the ice. There was no pressure ridge at Wooster Brook, as there is
sometimes, and no trouble between the small islands, where the full current of the watershed wells up, and sometimes opens the ice up.
I kept skating, lured on by the hope of seeing smoke coming out
of Cam Lewis's on-the-ice sauna, but when I finally arrived, drenched in sweat, there was no sign of life. It was definitely time for an s&s (snack and snooze) break.
Heading back, I had the slight north wind behind me, which gave no apparent wind. You turn a corner after the cliffs, and then
look down two straight miles to Bog Bridge, all downwind, all fairly good ice. What a dream.
Entering the final bay, I was surprised to see an unusual sport on the ice. Can you guess? Starts with B....something you would see outside a cafe in France....Bo.......you guessed it:
eluob spelled backwards. first time i've ever seen that played on ice!
Tomorrow, Lloyd and I may check out Sebago, which may be new black ice. But in the meantime, for iceboating and nordic skating, megunticook is worth trying.

Subject: thursday's white-knuckle iceboating on Pemaquid Pond

It was sooo hard to get out iceboating today. The themometer said about 5. So Lloyd and I gave it 'til 11AM and loaded the iceboats. I was in one of those contrary moods, where the only natural expression seemed to be Fxxx it!
I'm giving up iceboating! all this gear! so much time to get going! load, load, load! strap down! and with Lloyd, everything is DOUBLE strapped down...
But then, after a mere 25 miles, we turned a corner and spied Pemaquid's quite decent ice. I was immediately taken back to all the great times we've had on this lovliest of ponds. every cove was full of memories: sparring with wilkins. working the narrows with Lloyd. blasting on long lingering hikes across the big bay....
the wind was 17-20 and very gusty. the wind chill was beyond beyond. I asked Lloyd what we should do, hoping he might say, let's head home. Without hesitation, he said, let's set up the boats

guess it's the old iceboater's motto: get your butt out there and see for yourself.
So, luffing like madmen, we proceeded North, with the wind building as we left the little bay. We soon encountered Dickie skimbatting on skates, who recommended the southern half of the pond as the best ice, since he had encountered all sorts of rough ice just before the narrows.
We all proceeded North, dickie zipping around the larger boats like a pesky fly. For an ice-starved iceboater, the ice was absolute heaven, though with the puffy wind you had to be jiffy quick on the sheets.
Lloyd and I worked our way across the 3 bays, the wind being enough west to almost obviate tacking, and we then crossed some snow and shell ice and worked our way thru the narrows, just keeping going, as the bare ice mixed with snow ice. Every half mile north, the ice was a little different, rougher and with more frozen snow.

We finally came to the far end, by Route 1, and took
a break on the lee side. What absolute fun: to cruise so far, in such variable ice conditions, without any boat-stopping hazards.
It reminded me of my first long cruise on Megunticook's west side with Brian Lamb.
On the way back, we ran into Dickie just at the Narrows and we all blasted downwind together. Sometimes the wind is so strong, and the ice so fast that downwind, which is usually so relaxing, becomes more tense than upwind, since bleeding off excessive speed is not easily done.
As usual, I was struck by the Dickie's sub-clinical mania for adventure: Truly, ONLY SALTENSTALL would travel at iceboat speeds over such an iffy surface on skates in such a gusty wind. At what point can we commit him?
We checked out a nice picnic spot in the lee of an island, as a possibility for the coming saturday gathering, and then headed for lunch in the pits. Lloyd found himself unable to luff up, heading
at high speed for the trees, and had a harrowing escape. As Dickie and I had lunch in his van, waiting for Lloyd, we found him de- commissioning the iceboat. He had unilaterally decided that enough
was enough!

I took a little exploratory sail after lunch, but soon agreed with the others that the wind had not eased in the least , and we all headed home.
If the wind is decent on Saturday, I'll surely be back. the middle of the iceboating season is tough--a doldrum between the first black ice, and eventual spring ice. So to find anything this nice is a real treat. Thanks Dave and Dickie for pursuing it.

Subject: a mother lode of ice.

I jumped out of bed with the bright sunshine, cold in the 20's , and the trees rustling. all signals to be on the ice.
I've been excercising at the YMCA intensively, following Lloyds cardiac rehab ideas; but the thought of being indoors again was unthinkable: gotta see what's happening on megunticook.
With X-C skiis, i launched at "Polly's Folly" Dickie's sister's place, a north-facing waterfront which is a good bet when access, as usual in mid-March, is a big issue. I waded carefully across
the frozen slush, put on the skiis and ski-ed the thin snow near the shores, which had not blown off the day before.

I was brought up short at 'the fangs' strait, which was open water. real live open water. this is truly mid-march! gotta be careful

Subject: skatable shell ice on Megunticook on Wednesday early morning

I rolled out of bed and dashed for the themometer: 10 degrees! hot dog! I knew I could get on megunticook at bog bridge. I also knew that the days were probably numbered on this lake and I'd better treasure each last run.
I launched on nordic skates, gingerly crossed the clear creaky ice at the edge, and poked slowly across the first bay on a
potpourri of mixed styrofoam. I kept my weight even on the two skates, and poled for propulsion. I didn't want to risk jarring that fragile ice layer with 1.5" of air below, and then 24" of ice below that. So I wasn't worried about a bath, but just a spread- eagle fall if I gained too much speed. You wouldn't believe the gear I wear--helmet, elbow, and knee protectors.....still, at 65, healing is slow....
The sounds from the ice were fearful! the hollow tinny sound of shell ice.

But by the time the middle of the large south bay
was gained, the ice became more predictable and with growing confidence I headed north. The yellow sun was peeking over Fernald's Neck and hitting half the width of the passage.
Oscar Wilde once quipped: "comparisons are odorous" and indeed they are. Don't compare this ice with anything. Forget that yesterday we were hitchiking on our giant wings across miles of
smooth white ice, which, once we got to know it, was quite predictable. Today is only today, its own miracle.
Why is ice so very very fascinating? Because it is soooo varied, and soooo unpredictable. No sooner do you think you know what you have; and.... zap, you're in a new ball game.
I worked my way north up the "western way" and found that the lovely bay just below the narrows, which we had enjoyed so much two
days ago, was--although now styrofoam surfaced--again perhaps the best ice around. So I spent an hour skating reaches on the fast
surface, across the light NNE wind, and revelled in the brightening day.
By now you know I love mid-ice picnics, so you won't be surprised to hear that I then pulled out my folding canvas seat, which fits nicely inside my boiler suit, peanut butter and jelly toast, and a thermos of piping hot earl grey tea, and settled down
on the squinty-brightness with nothing but distant hilly view in all directions. The wind was very light, and the ice kept sending sudden scrunching sounds from the various shores.
. .. Otherwise the silence was total.....
....and .... I settled into that peace, that bliss... when
there's nowhere to go.....nothing to do.... but to be on this
sacred patch of planet earth, and enjoy the sensations which each breath brings.....
like this ice, all will soon change....

Subject: The fat lady's aria.

I clearly remember dim days of December
as the month trickled by, the ice was so shy

we eyed all the puddles, tested the swamps
just give me that glide, an iceperson wants.

At last came our bond, with dear Plymouth Pond.
the ice was quite late, but turned out just great!

We launched Bill Bucholtz's box of bolts:
as it gathered way, it made our day.

Then cameras rolled on skimbats bold
when snow came fast: we'd had a blast!>