Winter Fishing and Slush

Commercial fishing on Lake of the Woods, through the ice, began in the early 1900's. Transportation to and from nets, over drifting snow, rough ice, and open compression ridges was the automobile.

During the 1930 winter, Dad, brother Dorrance and Moose Hilborne, were fishing their gill nets about twelve miles out from Warroad. Fishing was good and they were getting along fine using a Dodge coupe with a powerful transmission and over-sized tires.

The good day ended when a heavy snowfall covered the ice with two feet of snow creating ideal slush conditions. The weight of the snow caused the ice to sag and flood when water squirted up through cracks covering the ice with lake water. The deep snow then insulated the water so it did not freeze up again.

It was dark when they loaded up the fish for the trip home. It had turned bitter cold. The north wind blew the loose snow in an endless, rolling sheet of white, making you become mesmerized and disoriented. There was neither a beginning nor an end. The drifting snow was formidable with the only guiding light miles away on the town water tower.

With Dorrance at the wheel, they were making good time until the Dodge dropped into a deep slush hole. When they abandoned the old Dodge, the water, snow and fifty-below wind chill made the slush tick and heavy, like they were walking in fresh concrete. When they lifted their feet for another step forward the wet boot would crust up with a thin layer of ice. With each step, the ice became thicker until the boot was so heavy they had to stop and pound off the ice so they could continue to walk. Moose, at 250 pounds, was having the most trouble standing. Rushing to his side, Dad and Dorrance stopped him from going down, knowing full well he was sinking into a profound lethargy. The only thing to do was jar him back to reality. "Moose! Snap out of it. If you go down, we will never be able to get you to your feet. Remember the teamster that tried freighting from the Northwest Angle? His team dropped into a slush hole in the middle of the night. As the horses waded through the water, their hoofs iced down, forming huge ice tubes on each foot. The tired horses dropped into the slush, unable to take another step. The teamster had to shoot them. Moose! You must continue! Snap out of it! Let's make it home."

When Dad told me this story he said, "the only thing that seemed alive was the Warroad water tower light shining in the dark, it gave all of us hope. Moose snapped out of his exhaustion and broke trail for Dorrance and I until we reached the edge of the slush bed and found solid ice to walk on. It was near daylight when we reached home."