The small town of Munising, Michigan, is nestled in hills along the southern shore of Lake Superior and marks the beginning of Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore. Come winter a mile east of town is the view of a lifetime – the ice curtains that hang from the cliffs of Grand Island, maybe a mile offshore. Those 10- to 90-foot-high, aqua-colored sheets of ice, glisten as sunlight bounces off them.

Back on the mainland in late January, we parked our car on Sand Point Road and walked a half mile following the signs directing us to the ice-climbing demonstrations. We worked our way up a hill on a hard-packed path and through a mature hemlock forest. Then, like a light was suddenly switched on in a dark room, a curtain of white and turquoise stretched along the side of a sandstone cliff. Massive sheets of thick and gnarled ice, upward of 60 feet high, stood before us.

It was Saturday, January 31, the weekend of Michigan Ice Fest, an annual Pictured Rocks event where first timers and advanced ice climbers tackle the iced over cliffs that in ancient times formed the shoreline of Lake Superior.

Water seeps out from cracks in the cliff, hit cold air, and start to solidify. Other water, from tiny rivulets pass over the ridge and freeze in transit, forming stalactites and then thick sheets once the huge icicles make contact with the ground. The sheets convolute and ripple into bodybuilder proportions, nature’s way of rewarding us for a cold and snowy winter.

My friend Tom Mack and I became part of well over 150 outdoor adventurers standing at the bottom. Many of the spectators and participants were from colleges throughout Michigan. Central Michigan University alone had at least 40 people attending the weekend demonstration.

The hillside was uneven, the snow was deep, and the footing was tricky. Nevertheless, we all kept looking up, lost in the spectacle. We watched novice ice climbers with crampons attached to their boots and elongated ice axes strapped to their hands working their way up the ice face.

Besides the ice-climbing experience itself, the event included stimulating speakers, videos and instruction.

Attached to hiking boots, the crampons have steel teeth that extend from the toes to the soles. The axes look like long steel question marks that would make excellent weapons in a “Star Wars” setting. Climbers swing them into the ice like one would a hatchet. After one or more attempts, they find a good grip and start pulling higher. Ice chips rain down on those below. Occasionally a larger chunk of brittle ice breaks off, reminding us that ice climbing is a dangerous sport for climbers and spectators alike.

Ice climbers wear helmets and are harnessed and belayed by a rope to an experienced climber at the base of the ice sheet. The rope is fastened to a tree or other secure structure at the top of the cliff. Climbers are safe in the sense that if they slip off the ice wall, they will be caught in midair by the belayer’s rope. He or she can then reposition and go at it again. In the meantime, the experienced climber at the end of the rope shouts instructions and encouragement such as, “Keep your feet in,” or “Keep your body close to the ice so your arms don’t tire,” or “Remember to keep three points of contact.” Three points of contact mean that three of their appendages should be dug into the ice at all times.

Ice climbing quickly leads to arm and leg fatigue. Each person who makes an attempt reaches a point when they wonder if they will make it. Then they’re 50 feet above the crowd and near the top. Finally, they’re able to stand above, look down and acknowledge to themselves, “I made it!” They let out a cheer and rappel back to earth and the open arms of their friends.

One climber close to the top of the cliff got excited and lost three-point contact. He swung slightly away from the cliff and his body flipped upside down. Although he wasn’t in real danger, the unintentional stunt likely made him a target of some ribbing later that evening.

Michigan Ice is a nonprofit organization dedicated to the Michigan Ice Fest and promoting climbing in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. Each year more and more novice and professional climbers take advantage of the climbing at Sand Point’s ice curtain.

Jerry Harpt is a retired schoolteacher and coach who now bides his time as a travel and outdoor writer. He’s an avid silent sports enthusiast who cross-country skis, hikes, bikes and kayaks.

top of page