The ice is at least six inches thick, probably more. Locals drive their trucks onto the ice just to place their shacks. Yet I can't shake the image of my lifeless corpse being dredged from the bottom come spring time, so for that silly reason I step lightly across the ice.
Just about anything will pass for an ice shack, as long as it blocks the wind and you can cut a hole in the ice through the floor. Every once in a while I give some thought to taking up the hobby, but until the day comes when I can pick up a wi-fi signal on the ice, I'll just take pictures of shacks.
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