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Wild Ice
The season is short, but so, so sweet.
// Photos & story By Joey Sackett
I grew up across from a lake, just outside of Chicago. The lake was murky and mostly useless, except in winter. Publicly maintained as an ice rink, it’s where I learned to ice skate, to play hockey. But there was another lake, this one at the back of a dead-end road. That lake was special; it’s where I learned to wild ice skate. It was hidden in the woods with no Zamboni, no plow, no rescue. I would glide across a lake all to myself while the ice moaned like a whale. Without the constraints of friction, each push effortless, like flying horizontally.
Now in Jackson Hole, I still skate on lakes hidden in the woods. Here it’s a game of getting to the ice before a big snow. Back in Chicago, sometimes winters aren’t even cold enough for wild ice to happen. Here, I’ve skated as early as October 13 (up high in Grand Teton National Park) and skated snow-free wild ice as late as January 5. Although every wild ice season is different.
There are a couple of ways to approach wild ice: 1) Scout for clear and freshly frozen lakes, and 2) wait until other skaters confirm a lake is frozen. For either, always act as if the ice isn’t safe until you perform stability tests (see sidebar). The ideal condition—the wild ice equivalent of powder snow—is glass ice, where you can see straight through the ice into an abyss of frozen bubbles or even see fish swimming underneath. The top layer is so smooth and hard, your skates leave behind little Parmesan cheese-like shavings. That’s the good stuff. Glass ice is formed during a cold, dry spell; a small lake usually needs about one week of below-freezing temperatures and no new snow for this.
Wild ice: You never know what you’re going to get, and that’s part of the beauty of it. There’s also the fact that you’re gliding on your own private lake in the mountains.
Of course, the ice doesn’t have to be perfect, and it probably won’t be. Ice is always changing—as the ice sheets shift and water seeps on top, as wind transports snow, as the top layer melts from the sun and refreezes, as it softens with warmer temperatures, as air bubbles freeze underneath the surface. I’ve skated on strong ice next to open water. My skate has broken through weak ice formed by an underwater spring. I’ve skated on glass ice right next to snow-covered cream cheese. You never know what you’re going to get, and that’s part of the beauty of it. There’s also the fact that you’re gliding on your own private lake in the mountains.
The newer the ice, the glassier it should be. But you don’t want ice to be so new that it’s not yet at least two inches thick (for one skater). According to the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers’ Ice Thickness and Strength for Various Loading Conditions table, two-inch thick ice can support a single person on skates; three-inch thick ice can support a group of people walking/skating in single file. For a competitive pond hockey game, you’ll want ice that’s at least four inches thick.
If a lake is buried in snow, it doesn’t mean that the wild ice season is over, it just means you should check out a different lake. Small lakes and higher-elevation lakes, like Ski Lake (see sidebar) freeze first, but also get snowed on first. The bigger lakes take longer to freeze, and snow can’t stack on a lake that hasn’t frozen yet. The variables are endless, and there is definitely guessing involved. Good wild ice is temporary, and timing is everything, which makes it all the more special. And when the season ends, often abruptly from one big storm, you can turn to the four maintained outdoor rinks in the valley. Or just go skiing.
Wild Ice Safety
Skating on wild ice is more gear intensive than skating at a maintained ice rink. In addition to ice skates, here’s what you should have with you:
1. A PFD: Wear a life jacket over your layers if you are unsure about the ice, while performing a stability test, or when skating by yourself.
2. Throw rope: Throw ropes are most often used for river safety but also work great on ice. Carry one with you. They come in small bags that you wear around your waist like a fanny pack. If someone breaks through, throw the rope to them and pull them out without putting yourself in danger.
3. Ice-skate rescue picks: Wear these around your neck or attach them to your PFD. If you break through the ice, the idea is that you can stab the ice with these picks to pull yourself out of the water.
4. Ice screw or hatchet: To create a hole through which you can measure the thickness of the ice, drill the ice screw or chip into the ice with a hatchet until you hit water.
5. Ice-measuring device: Once you have a hole to the water, you want a ruler, tape measure, or hockey stick on which you’ve marked inches, to measure the ice’s thickness.
6. Towels, extra-warm clothing, and warm beverages: In case someone falls in, you’ll want these things waiting for you on the shore.
Of course, none of this gear does any good if you don’t know how to use it. YouTube is always a great resource, or check wild ice queen (and a friend) Laura Kottlowski on TikTok (@laura.kottlowski). Her vids are both fascinating and informative.
Always test the safety of the ice before stepping onto it, and a rock stability test is the easiest way to do this. It is as simple as it sounds: Find a dense rock—baseball size is sufficient, five pounds is better, and a 10-pound rock will erase all doubts. Rock in hand, toss it as high up as you can and out and over the ice area in question. If it supports the blow, grab it, and keep testing other spots to clear out a safe area. Ice is never the same thickness across a lake, so if you plan to explore the entirety of the lake, bring the rock with you. My close calls on wild ice are always from when I get too excited and skate into a zone that I have not checked. It’s not a bad idea to bring a rock with you, but most lakes have rocks somewhere nearby. A hockey stick can also be a good stability tester by smacking the ice far away from you. As you whack the ice, you might even begin to notice the differences from the high-pitch sound of strong, stable ice and lower-pitch of thin ice.
Find Wild Ice
Lower Slide Lake, in the Bridger-Teton National Forest and about a 20-minute drive up the Gros Ventre Road from the community of Kelly, is a big lake (650 acres), so it takes longer to freeze over. But it’s worth the wait because you can drive right to it—no hiking/snowshoeing/skiing required. Park and access the lake from the BTNF Lower Slide Lake Campground.
A roughly two-mile hike, ski, or snowshoe up about 1,000 feet from the Phillips Pass trailhead on Teton Pass, Ski Lake is small and high (8,650 feet in elevation), so it freezes earlier than other local lakes. The effort required to get there is worth it for the alpine views; the lake is tucked into a cozy cirque, and the trek isn’t nearly as long as for other lakes; it’s actually considered fairly easily accessible wild ice.
When you can’t find wild Ice
If wild glass ice is like skiing powder, Jackson Hole Rodeo Grounds in downtown Jackson off Snow King Avenue is like skiing a groomer, and it has guaranteed ice-skating all winter. Although quite different from wild ice, it is still a unique experience—Snow King Mountain, home of Wyoming’s first ski area (it opened in 1939), looms high above, and the rink itself sits on the same stadium floor that, between Memorial and Labor Days, hosts the Jackson Hole Rodeo, so you’re skating beneath the rodeo’s empty stadium seats. JH