The still peacefulness of a winter evening is hard to explain without witnessing it yourself. Imagine a big moon reflecting off the snow-covered ground, illuminating the forest as it rests for the evening. The mist from my breath crystallizes in the crisp night air, and a peaceful silence temporarily distracts me from the problem at hand: how am I going to free my plow truck from the ditch that I just slid into?
The storm had passed, and it was time to head up the Gunflint Trail and plow the 6-8 inches of fresh powder that accumulated over the past two days. It was a soft and fluffy snowfall since the temperatures were in the single digits, and easy to push with the plow. One pitfall to light and fluffy snow is that it drifts easily, and sticks to the hot windshield as it transforms into slush before collecting on the wiper blades. It also lingers in the air too long causing white-out conditions while plowing at higher speeds.
These are my best excuses for letting the shoulder of Little Ollie Road on Poplar Lake suck me into the ditch while plowing with an iced over windshield at night. Luckily, my accounts were all finished, and I was on my way home when I slid off the road, but it was not a very enjoyable midnight phone call to my wife, Rachelle, who was kind enough to load up the kids and rescue me from having to sleep on the floor of the community center.
Remote cabins along the Gunflint Trail are not easy places to plow, and I am usually prepared for the worst. I carry hand warmers, a blanket, snacks, flashlight, and extra gloves along with many tools and straps needed for extracting a stuck vehicle. Most of the time I can remedy the problem by myself, but the shoulder of Little Ollie road was too steep, and the chassis of my plow truck was high centered on the edge of the steep shoulder. It took a tow truck to hoist the front end of my truck out of the ditch, in order to get me pointing in the right direction.
Despite the frustrating situation I was in, the hike to Fire Hall 1 was actually nice, even though I felt for a moment that I was being followed by a pack of wolves. Other than temporary paranoia, it was a peaceful hike on a bright winter’s night.
I can now add a new saying to my list. If you see me swimming, there is a sunken boat below me. If you see me running, I am being chased. If you see me hiking at night in February, my truck is in the ditch.
Cory Christianson has worked as a fishing guide on the Gunflint Trail since 2000. If you have any fishing or wildlife reports or stories to share, send an email to: christiansoncory@hotmail.com or call 218- 388-0315. You can also visit Cory’s website at Gunflintfishingguide.com.
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