Climate change denialism has gone underground. At our house in mid-coast Maine the once familiar two foot thick ice shelves in the river behind us haven't been seen for a few years. The ice fishing huts for the smelt fishing season in February haven't been on the Creek in Thomaston for years.
PUT-IN-BAY, Ohio — The trouble with the island right now is that it is surrounded by water.
In the summer, the water is the selling point. The village of Put-in-Bay supplies all the daiquiri-serving bars of a Key West getaway but lies a mere 20-minute ferry ride from a port on Lake Erie, about halfway between Toledo and Cleveland. Tens of thousands of vacationers pour in for a party that goes on for months.
But when the cold sets in and the ferries stop running, the few hundred people who live here year round watch intently for signs that the blue all around them is turning white. This, they insist, is the real high season: ice fishing time.
When it begins, usually at some point in January or February, dozens of ice shanties start sprouting on the glorious pavement of a frozen Lake Erie.
There are bonfires and cookouts, banquets and impromptu parties; people sail ice boats, go ice skating and drive snowmobiles across the ice to visit friends on neighboring islands.
The groups of ice fishermen who fly in to South Bass Island, where Put-in-Bay sits, bring a nice jolt of off-season cash, but that is just a side benefit. For most who live on the island year round and put up with the tourist season as an economic necessity, ice fishing is what makes it all worth it.
