Greetings, ‘Bovers!
February has arrived, and if you thought January was slow, you should see us now. Down here, time doesn’t tick; it drips. As I mentioned in my last letter, we ‘Neathers are in “low-power mode,” but February is when that really gets tested. The snow on top of the ice has gotten thicker, which means it’s gotten even darker down here. It’s like living in a basement where someone forgot to pay the electric bill!
The Great Winter Groan
You might think it’s silent down here, but February is actually our “Noisy Neighbor” month. Have you heard the lake “booming”, “groaning” or “cracking” lately? To you, it sounds like a distant cannon; to us, it sounds like the house is settling—loudly!
When the temperature swings up and down above you, the ice expands and contracts. It sends a deep, echoing THRUMMM through the water. I once saw a school of crappies jump so high at a particularly loud crack that they nearly bumped their noses on the ceiling! I tell them, “Relax, boys, it’s just the lake stretching its muscles.” Honestly, between the ice groaning and Mike Leis’s power auger, a fish can’t get a decent nap around here.
Who’s Doing What?
While I’m busy being a 40-inch torpedo shaped like a log, my neighbors have their own winter hobbies:
- The Sunfish & Crappies: These guys are huddling in big groups. They aren’t exactly talking, but they stay close together in the slightly warmer water near the bottom. They look like a slow-motion dance troupe.
- The Deep Sleepers (Update): Our snapping turtles are still tucked into the mud. Their heart rates are so slow right now that if they were any more relaxed, they’d be statues. They are still “breathing” through their skin, which is why having clean, oxygen-rich water is so important, even when the lake is “closed.”
- The Busy Engineers: The beavers are starting to get a bit restless. Their underwater wood pile is getting smaller, and they’ve been known to swim right past me with a look on their face that says, “Is it spring yet?”
- The Little Stuff: The zooplankton are still the MVPs. They are like the tiny batteries that keep the lake’s engine idling. Without those microscopic swimmers staying active in the dark, the rest of us would be in big trouble come April.
A Word on Ice Safety (From a Beneather’s Perspective)
I need to be serious for a second—as serious as a Musky can be, anyway. We ‘Neathers see things you don’t. We see where the springs bubble up and make the ice thin from underneath. We see where the currents from the submerged islands wear away the “ceiling.”
Please, ‘Bovers, be vigilant. No fish wants to see a you (or your snowmobile) drop in uninvited. Check the thickness regularly, stay away from the inlets, and remember that just because it’s February doesn’t mean the ice is a sidewalk. We like having you up there, not down here!
A Final Request
As we drift through these final weeks of deep winter, remember us down here. Everything you do on your snowy shorelines—every bit of salt, fuel, or trash that stays off the ice—makes our “low-power mode” a lot easier to survive. We’re counting on you to keep our ceiling clean.
Keep drilling those holes, Mike. You’re fun to watch and it gives us something to chuckle at, and we especially like the great light shows! Stay safe, and I’ll check in with you when the sun starts to linger a bit longer.
Your friend and neighbor,
Musky Chuck Beneather, Ice-Acoustics Critic, and Matthews Lake Historian