Ice fishing, except for up north, is pretty much done for the season, but I wanted to tell you about Burke Lake while it was fresh in my mind. Last month an ATV went through the ice on Burke Lake in spite of the lake’s two feet thick ice. The rear wheels went through first, and the rider was able to get off safely before the front went through and the vehicle sank. There was only two inches of ice where the vehicle went through because of springs or moving water under the ice. Years ago on the ice, I nearly killed five good friends and myself, and to this day I cringe in horror when I think about it.

It was January 1962 on the South Dakota State campus, and six of us decided to head to Lake Benton, MN in my 1948 Plymouth for a Saturday night dance that featured rock star Del Shannon. As we approached Lake Benton from the West on Hwy 14, we could see the tents, vehicles, and ice shanties of ice fishermen on the west side of the lake. We were early, and as I had never witnessed or ice fished before, I suggested that we drive out on the ice and check out the activity. Everyone agreed.

The many successful anglers were cordial, and we had fine time visiting and inspecting their fish, techniques, etc. At this point, I suggested that we drive further out onto the lake and check things out. Once again all agreed. It wasn’t long before I discovered that if I floored the throttle and cut the steering wheel hard to the left or right, the car would first go sideways and then enter into a wild spin. We were having an incredibly good time when things literally took a turn for the worse.

As the car was going sideways at 85-90 MPH, we came upon a snow drift that launched us into the air! After a brief flight, the car landed on its roof! I was fully conscious throughout, and my first thought was that everyone else was dead. My initial fears subsided when I heard giggling from the guys and girls in the back seat. The body of my date was still limp and unconscious, probably because I had landed on her, but she soon came to, we opened the doors, and climbed safely onto the frozen lake.

In spite of the lifting and pushing by the six of us, we couldn’t budge the car. By now it was completely dark but we could see the lights of Lake Benton to the northwest. We decided that Ken would stay with the girls while Phil and I walked back to town for help. It was a long walk. We later learned that we had walked about six miles.

We decided on the police station – a good choice. It wasn’t long before the chief, a patrolman, Phil, and I were in a patrol car heading back out onto the lake. We, very fortunately, brought along some gas and oil as I had noted gas spilling onto the ice before we left the car. It was then that the chief looked me in the eye and dropped a bomb. Did I know that there was open water on the lake? I almost threw up. We had been all over that lake for two hours! On the way back, the chief drove us over to the edge of open water. I believe in God, and I believe that providence, not mere chance, had saved us.

The eight of us put the car back on its wheels. Then I lay on the back seat and kicked the dent out of the roof. After refilling the engine oil and adding gas, the car started right up and we headed back to Brookings. The girls’ dorm mother believed my story, and the girls weren’t punished.

This misadventure, and many others, are found in my new autobiography, Southside Boy. I wrote the book for my daughters and grandchildren, but I think you will enjoy it. Copies can be purchased at James Drug or Kocer’s Fallen Timbers in Wagner. $17 will cover book, shipping, and sales tax. Send to Roger Wiltz, Box 253, Wagner, SD 57380.

See you next week.