Jackie Tackles the Great Mysteries of the Universe: Installment #1

Why do we always want to step on frozen lakes? Do we really need to know whether it will break if we apply pressure to it? And, is this something only kids feel before they grow out of it, or do we merely suppress the desire to test ourselves against the ice when we “grow up”?

I’ve thought of this a lot recently, as I pass the nearby lake and hear the icy platform call out to me invitingly. Sometimes I heed the call and step on the very edge, just to show how badass I am.

Snowmobilers (in New York, at least) hear the call and interpret it as an invitation to their machines. Drive past the Hudson or Mohawk Rivers and you can see snowmobile tracks dissecting the icy surface, pleasure seekers testing the moving waters with their heavy machinery.

(Umm, side note: responding to these calls is probably not healthy, as snowmobilers routinely fall into the ice to an unknown fate).

Even wildlife feels pulled by the thrill—or whatever you want to call it—of stepping out onto icy layers. My apartment complex places prominent “DO NOT WALK ON ICE” signs next to our frozen lake. Behind this sign one sees webs of squirrel tracks quietly defying authority, and inviting humans to join along. I want to be those squirrels, fearless in front of mass-produced signs.

I don’t know why the ice calls to me. I think that what it comes down to, really, is that I feel like Jesus when I’m walking on water.