There are varied kinds of ice breakers: large ships with reinforced hulls that go up onto the ice and then crush it down to break the ice to make a path in the water; at a party a game or set of introductions may be used to get people to know each other and interact; and there is falling through the ice. It was on January 3, that I broke the ice on a skating rink.
On my daily walking route I go through a local park which has two ice skating areas, each with technology to overlay the gradually overlay the ice with new water. A different type of Zamboni. For several years now the large skating area has been within a few feet of the path on which I walk. It then becomes second nature to run on the ice to get speed and slide on the ice. Fairly regularly I do this. It has become somewhat of a game for me to figure out when the rink has sufficient ice on which to slide. Not once have I misjudged and fallen through the ice, that is until Friday, January 3, 2020. Yes, it had been warm, but I have been on the ice when it has been warm before. Let me simply say, I misjudged.
That morning my wife went for a walk at 7:30 am with her walking partner. As I was sipping my tea, I said to her, not once but twice, to be careful because there could be ice on the paths and sidewalks. I was simply showing concern for my life partner. The temperature was below freezing, although it had been warm, and I was concerned about thaw-freeze. When she returned from her walk, I got ready to go on mine, she said to me to watch out for ice. I think she said this to be a smart aleck. Being an odd numbered day I was well into my walk, with about ten to twelve minutes of the 45 minute walk remaining, when I came to Lewis Park and the dull gray ice sheet that well matched not only the color of the sky, but the dreariness of the day. I looked at the ice and tested it with one foot, and it seemed sufficiently sturdy. I then moved slightly further on the ice to run parallel to the path to get up speed to slide. Well, I did not get very far: Crash! My right leg broke into the ice. As I tried to pull the right leg out, disaster hit and left leg broke through the ice. This seemed to set off a chain reaction as my right leg slipped on the grass surface below the ice, and then using my right hand to steady myself, that too broke through the ice. Being near the edge of the rink I figured I would be in a few inches of water. The water turned out to be deeper than I thought and with the slip, I ended up in water above my knee on the right leg, and almost up to the knee on the other. Quick thinking and exceptional athleticism on my part saved me from being pulled under the ice by the current of the extremely sluggish, essentially non-moving several inch deep water that was originally fully below the ice sheet. Who knows, if the current had pulled me under I may not have been found until spring. (I had to put that part in to get a rise out of my wife.)
I started walking back home the final distance of what measures to just under .72 miles on Google maps. Perhaps more from potential embarrassment than trying to stay warm I ran home part way. One thing about McFarland during a weekday mid-morning is that I may be lucky to see a person or a car on that part of the route home. I had passed by an acquaintance, who I regularly see, walking her dog before the ice break, so I knew I would not likely see anyone else. When you walk the same route, at about the same time you see patterns of behavior from area residents. I saw no cars, but a school bus passed me. It made me wonder why a school bus was running around the neighborhood at about 10:00 am, not to mention the neighborhood is only a couple blocks from the school. It is not like kindergarten would be out. When I got home, I quickly took off my coat, shoes and socks and went upstairs to change pants and get new socks. The wife realized something was up when I bolted upstairs; not knowing what had happened. She, of course, asked if I had slipped on the ice. I then told her I did not slip, but fell through the ice. That led to a great deal of head shaking on her part, and her red hair bobbing from side to side. For some reason she likes to shake her head whenever I tell her what I have been doing. Then of course there is that smirk she will often get in these situations. She then noted I could have broken my leg. I think she said this about ten times over the course of the rest of the day. She also asked if I had my cell phone with me in case I needed to call 911 after having broken my leg; i did have my cell phone with me. I did tell her that I had some cuts on my right leg. She looked at my right leg and told me to get some ice as the leg was swelling around the cuts. She then, in a consequential voice commanded, "There better be a blog post about this." Although she commanded less about there being a blog post "about this", then how I could have broken my leg.
For some reason she thinks I write more about her than about myself. She just provides better material. I have to say, I did provide good material on at least one occasion. The August 2016 "Get off the Bridge" which you can read here, probably proves that point. If I had not written about breaking through the ice I don't care to think what she would say or do to me. On Sunday, January 5, she insisted on me getting that blog post written, before it was out of date. (I told her I had another one ready so it would have to wait another week.) She also demanded to look at my leg which she photographed with her phone. I think she was surprised how fast I was healing. She told me she would send me the photo when needed for the blog post. She was also wondering if the village had security cameras in the area, and I told her they have some on the shelter. I think she feels the village employees are probably laughing at me for having even tried the ice, not to mention having fallen through the ice. Before the snow on the weekend of January 11-12, you could still see where I had broken through the ice.
On Wednesday January 8 we had some errands to run and I told her the ice rink was nice and firm on that cold day. It was about 8 degrees when I went for my walk, and I did a little sliding on the ice surface, the first time since I broke through the ice on January 3. Ever the optimist, she then said, "Not wanting to break a leg when falling through the ice is not good enough, now you want to break a wrist by falling on the ice." This from a woman who once jumped out of an airplane. On January 9, the temperature had risen over night, and it was 25 degrees outside when I once again slid on the ice. I did so for a much longer distance, only to hear the ice starting to crack when I got near the far east end of the rink. I decided to quickly get off.
On Jan 14, when I asked to her to provide the photo of my leg, she did not know if she still had it. She said she thought there was no way I would write about this incident. I don''t know what would ever I have done that would have given her that idea, since I almost always obey her. There was no response after my comment, but I sensed a slight head shake. For example, on that first Friday in January, she told me, albeit somewhat sarcastically, to not slip on the ice; well, I did not slip on the ice. I broke through the ice.
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| Part of Lewis Park and paths I have roughly marked the ice rinks in blue outline |
On my daily walking route I go through a local park which has two ice skating areas, each with technology to overlay the gradually overlay the ice with new water. A different type of Zamboni. For several years now the large skating area has been within a few feet of the path on which I walk. It then becomes second nature to run on the ice to get speed and slide on the ice. Fairly regularly I do this. It has become somewhat of a game for me to figure out when the rink has sufficient ice on which to slide. Not once have I misjudged and fallen through the ice, that is until Friday, January 3, 2020. Yes, it had been warm, but I have been on the ice when it has been warm before. Let me simply say, I misjudged.
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| Looking westward, ice rink is just to left covered by a light snow |
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| One ice rink stretches from red hydrant to beyond where I take the picture To right side you can see support boards for hockey rink where the side boards were not installed this year. |
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| My leg on Sunday, Jan 5. My wife hand knit my socks |
For some reason she thinks I write more about her than about myself. She just provides better material. I have to say, I did provide good material on at least one occasion. The August 2016 "Get off the Bridge" which you can read here, probably proves that point. If I had not written about breaking through the ice I don't care to think what she would say or do to me. On Sunday, January 5, she insisted on me getting that blog post written, before it was out of date. (I told her I had another one ready so it would have to wait another week.) She also demanded to look at my leg which she photographed with her phone. I think she was surprised how fast I was healing. She told me she would send me the photo when needed for the blog post. She was also wondering if the village had security cameras in the area, and I told her they have some on the shelter. I think she feels the village employees are probably laughing at me for having even tried the ice, not to mention having fallen through the ice. Before the snow on the weekend of January 11-12, you could still see where I had broken through the ice.
On Wednesday January 8 we had some errands to run and I told her the ice rink was nice and firm on that cold day. It was about 8 degrees when I went for my walk, and I did a little sliding on the ice surface, the first time since I broke through the ice on January 3. Ever the optimist, she then said, "Not wanting to break a leg when falling through the ice is not good enough, now you want to break a wrist by falling on the ice." This from a woman who once jumped out of an airplane. On January 9, the temperature had risen over night, and it was 25 degrees outside when I once again slid on the ice. I did so for a much longer distance, only to hear the ice starting to crack when I got near the far east end of the rink. I decided to quickly get off.
On Jan 14, when I asked to her to provide the photo of my leg, she did not know if she still had it. She said she thought there was no way I would write about this incident. I don''t know what would ever I have done that would have given her that idea, since I almost always obey her. There was no response after my comment, but I sensed a slight head shake. For example, on that first Friday in January, she told me, albeit somewhat sarcastically, to not slip on the ice; well, I did not slip on the ice. I broke through the ice.
Too funny, Tom!
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