In far northern Wisconsin there is sometimes a natural road that leads out to an island within Lake Superior. This ice road exists only a few months out of the year and is either loved or feared by the folks that live in this area. In the warmer months the several thousand summer residents that reside on the island are dependent on a ferry business to provide passage for their vehicles; during the deepest part of winters this road grants liberty from the tourists and schedules to the few hardy souls remaining on the island.

This past weekend I finally took the plunge and spanned this road for the first time with friends while we still could before the spring breakup. It was a beatiful and warm pre-spring afternoon, I had been tapping maples in the family sugarbush earlier in the morning as the sap had begun to flow. We rolled down all of the windows, just in case we needed an escape route, and laughed as the water splashed into our vehicle As we forded the above-ice creek that ran over the mainland landing. Along our journey of a few miles we veered through the slushy conditions following the occasional reused christmas tree marking the road as we passed by a weinie roast party and folks going ice fishing. As we arrive onto the island there is a release of triumphant cries while reminding ourselves that we would again be taking this journey back under the cover of darkness, assuming the road will still be open.

The ice road reminds me of the old saying that you can never cross the same river twice. It reminds me of the fact that choosing a path may not be for everyone, but if you choose to take it you will find others along the way. It reminds me that it is indeed possible to walk on water.