Recording Lake Superior Ice Heaving
There’s a certain magic when standing on a frozen lake on a warm winter day, when the sky is impossibly blue and the sun lights up the frozen expanse. The ice comes alive with creaks and groans as the warming sun causes it to expand and contract.
Each pop and fracture is the lake adjusting, breathing, and settling in for the day. You may hear a delicate snap that echoes across the lake, as if the water below is gently stretching after a long nap. Or you may hear a low, deep rumble that conjures up thoughts of fear, like something out of a horror movie.
Sometimes the ice heaving sound carries for miles—soft and rhythmic at times, sharp and startling at others. No matter the tone, the sound of the ice reminds you that the lake is full of life, even in the stillness of winter.
Mouth of the Brule
Wisconsin is abundant with rivers that are a canoeist’s dream. It’s home to the St. Croix National Riverway, along with equally beautiful but smaller rivers such as the Namekagon and the Kickapoo. However, it was on an unseasonably warm February day that I found myself at the mouth of the Brule River, where it flows into the aptly named Lake Superior, North America’s largest freshwater lake formed by glaciers.
The sky was bright blue and the sun reflected off Lake Superior as the warm, melting waters from the Brule flowed slowly into it. It was here, where open water met large chunks of ice shifting along the shoreline, that I set up my gear.
Standing there, the sun warming my face, I was surrounded by the rhythmic sound of the lake’s movements. It was calming, yet powerful, as if the lake was quietly reminding me that it’s never completely still.
The ice groaned and creaked as the water beneath heaved it up and down. The sound wasn’t sudden or loud but constant and evolving, traveling along the shoreline. It was a delight to hear, with crows calling in the distance. The combination of shifting ice and the quiet backdrop of nature made this moment feel both timeless and fleeting—a reminder of how connected we are to these wild places.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, I packed up my gear, still hearing the echoes of the lake’s movements. The day had offered more than just a recording—it was a perfect reminder of nature’s quiet power, always shifting and changing, even when we least expect it.
Extra Tidbits
If you want to hear ice heaving in person, late winter and very early spring are the best times. The sounds are most noticeable during the early morning or late afternoon, as the sun creates temperature changes. Be mindful of the dangers of thin ice—bring a friend and carry ice spikes in case you fall through.
If you want a real treat and are lucky, perhaps you’ll experience an ice shove. This occurs when warming temperatures start to break up the ice on lakes, and strong winds or currents push the ice sheets toward the shore. It’s fascinating to watch and hear, as it sounds like shards of glass tinkling.
Enjoy the sounds.
