Nice Day to Freeze to Death

winter paddling on Lake Superior!!

The first time I saw Superior, she was covered in ice. It was sunny out, so bright that I could hardly stand to look out at the jagged ridges where the ice met the blue, and I thought that it didn’t really look like a lake or ocean at all, more like a wind-swept winter field. 

I first started loving the water on Lake Michigan, soft sand dunes and gentle lines in the sand that simmer under green water. For me the glittering blue rivers, spiky pines mixed with oak and maples, sandy bottoms and flicker of fish in the water of Northern Michigan will always be what feels most like home. 

But somewhere along the line while studying a chart of Lake Superior and shipwreck counts instead of Neurology I got it into my head I wanted to get to know Lake Superior. 

Which more or less, brings me to now. I’ve paddled more extensively than most (but definitely not as extensively as some) on the American side of Lake Superior, and thought I’m a pretty solid paddler I still experience that same sense of “oh god am I enough for this” that I did in the beginning. 

First it was my first crossing, then my first solo, then navigating in the fog, then big waves and harder rescues and so on. Now, it’s winter paddling.

Superior in the summer is familiar to me— I know the haze that hangs in front of the sun in the mornings before it will storm, the way the waves wrap around points and where to find shelter, how to read the hazards and water.

But I don’t know winter on the Lake. I don’t know when or how the ice breaks and flows, not really though I’ve read about it, or how the ice accumulating on your deck might change the way your boat paddles, or the wind or weather patterns on the Lake in the winter in general. 

I’ve wanted to paddle on Lake Superior in the winter since I knew that was even a possibility.

Logistically here’s what that entailed:

1. A sea kayak/ sea kayaking experience + a full safety kit. I wouldn’t recommend going on Lake Superior at all without a sea kayak— if you don’t confidently know that your kayak is a sea kayak and can handle Lake Superior, it and you should probably stick to near shore and paddling beachside!

2. A drysuit. This year I got a drysuit for an upcoming long summer paddle! Having a drysuit versus wetsuit is the dividing line of safe to paddle in the winter on Superior versus unsafe. Hypothermia is an added risk in the winter, and winter wetsuits made for surfers don’t make a ton of sense for longer kayaking trips. A drysuit is breathable, keeps you dry, and protects your warm wool layers underneath. 

3. Calm, ice-free waters. Given the extra hazards of winter paddling (cold, bigger waves faster, potential for tiny icebergs in waves, freezing sea spray on kayak decks), we really needed it to be comfortably above 15 degrees F and calm out. We didn’t get that perfect weather but we got pretty darn close— It was about 12 degrees with a chilly west wind. Just enough that paddling wasn’t effortless, our faces were cold from the wind, and there was a light 1/2 foot chop with chunks of ice in it outside of the harbor. By no means dangerous for us to paddle in, but definitely not the perfect calm paddling day it looked like on Instagram or from shore (I only take pictures when it’s calm for camera dryness reasons). We lasted about 30 minutes before our faces were too cold and we hurried back in. 

4. A free schedule. The hardest part of squeezing in a winter paddle is both Andy and I had to have a day off, time and energy for a two hour prep and hour clean up plus paddling time, and that had to line up with the weather window. I personally won’t paddle alone in the winter for safety reasons. 

Some unforeseen challenges:

1. We had to wade through about a three foot snow bank with boats to get to our launch spot. 

2. The beach itself was frozen, so traction was hard.

3. When we turned around into a tailwind it was a lot harder to see and avoid ice chunks. Can’t be good for the boat. 

4. My spray skirt shrunk and I had to get it wet to stretch it over the cockpit of my boat. It took a long time and was demoralizing. 

5. Frozen gear. This was sort of foreseen. 

All in all, it was about 2 hours of prep time and one hour of clean up for 40 glorious paddling minutes. Worth every second. I felt like an Arctic Explorer. Hopefully the stars will align again before the ice is gone.

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Some notes from real life: