Pictures of the Moment - North Country Lottery

It's cold for much of the year in northern Minnesota and other parts of the Upper Midwest. Even the 4th of July can be sweater weather any given year. If you're going to live here you have to embrace the climate and have a little fun with it.

An annual tradition all over the Northland is to bet on when some oversize hardware will break through the ice of a local lake with the onset of spring, an event that may seem overly optimistic in January. The proceeds usually benefit a local charity. Springtime visitors to the region should keep a look-out for large objects randomly sitting atop open ice just off the shoreline of lakeside civic parks. And in the land of 10,000 lakes, just about every town has a lakeside civic park.

In Minnesota, May showers bring June flowers. Did the lake ever actually thaw after the 2014 polar vortex? I half-wondered as I photographed this sign in March, 2015. But soon small towns and large all across lake country will raffle a full slot of guesses on the day, hour and minute of breakthrough. Prizes may be modest, but there is such a thing as "bragging rights."There are no statistics on the prevalence of sabotage, but a grenade and "tomorrow at 3:30 am" crossed my mind..

As an aside, Valentini's Supper Club in Chisholm is the place for a good, family Italian meal in northern Minnesota.

This isn't an ice fisherman parked on a small lake (by Eveleth), and the ice isn't thin in March. Someday soon though, this pickup itself will need to be fished out. The time-honored approach is a rusty old junker that's been stripped of its engine. Even minus the oil and transmission fluid, such recycled entertainment isn't likely to be sanctioned by the Sierra Club. Most hand-wringers don't have much sense of fun anyway.

A giant bobber may be creative, but the sudden sinking of a truck is dramatic. How many tourists have happened across such scenes while it's being dragged out and stuck around in hopes to see a body? So I'll see the same truck in the same place next year, maybe a little rustier. But first comes fishing season.

Minnesota School Bus Shelters

It's easy for a traveller to miss the little things that truly define a place. Sometimes it takes living somewhere to really discover what is culturally self-evident. I've spent nearly five years in northern Minnesota, and some things that I pass every day it's taken that long to actually see.

Such are the small huts scattered throughout rural Minnesota's north country laneways. Used to shelter children from the bitter cold while waiting for the school bus at the end of a long country drive, it's Minnesota parents' way of ensuring their genetic investment keeps all its extremities through to adulthood. Though natural selection takes care of those who can't make it between their front door and the shelter, the huts are an effective means of escaping bitter temperatures that can reach as low as -50F (-45.5C)...without a wind chill. 

The Silver Lining to a Cold Land

You may have read a dire-sounding warning in The Old Farmer's Almanac, "Beware the pogonip!" It shows up nearly every year in December. The expression "pogonip" is an anglification of the Shoshone word for cloud (payinappih). It names the atmospheric condition and effects of freezing winter fog, commonly formed in mountain valleys of the western United States, particularly Nevada. Apparently, the myth still persists that icy particles in the fog can be injurious to the lungs; this ironically in a state with a relatively high proportion of smokers.

Where is the Best Christmas Light Display?

America has an obsession with electrical stimulation. Even Snoopy gets in on the act.

Duluth, Minnesota is making its case as the world's capital of Christmas lights. It's a win-win for everyone, especially Minnesota Power. Does that reflect the crass commercialism bemoaned by Charlie Brown, or something more? It's a curious dichotomy for a community that was recently recognized as America's best outdoor town. Merv Griffin may have been on to something when he sang about this "Christmas City." There are only so many towns with their own holiday jingle.

Pictures of the moment - January 23, 2014

It was -32º C (-25.6º F) on our dawn arrival in western Labrador that day (December 2, 2013), not too bad considering how low the temperature can get near the Quebec border. Still, it would have been a good day to remember a hat. The temperatures faced by much of the North American population this week are standard fare for several months in only slightly more northern climes.

Clear and Cold on the Iron Range

Cold is relative in the North Country. When the thermometer plunged a couple weeks ago, the record low temperatures were a major news story along the eastern seaboard of North America. The phenomenon was described as a "polar vortex." In Minnesota this kind of weather is called a "normal January." A friend once told me this is the price of five months of paradise. And black flies.

Temperature in farenheit (same as -31C) on Tuesday morning, January 21st.

Iron Rangers aren't especially tougher, just a different kind of acclimated. When I lived here more than one person told me they couldn't wait for the unbearable 80 degree days to relent...and for ice fishing. But there is justifiable pride in their own brand of hardiness, casual indifference to the Minneapolis climate--the "banana belt"--and respect for anywhere currently colder than home. In time, my new blood began to thicken too, and before long the winter jacket would open up like maple sap in March. The kids didn't know any different. Shortly after we moved to Ohio, a teacher chastised my son for not wearing his coat on a below-freezing winter day. "Why?" he replied. "It's not cold."