Many of us followed the story last week of the 2 Snowmobilers that lost their lives on Wisconsin's Lake Winnebago. I live in the area and am familiar with our waterways and the hazards, especially during the winter snowmobiling season. I've had some close calls myself during the boating season but never went through the ice with a snowmobile.
Well, the following is a story of a local man who did go through the ice...and survived. A couple of ironies here, his mishap was in the same location as the two fatalities, on the same weekend, within hours of each other. But since he survived, his story didn't make as much media coverage as the two fatalities, at least until now. The following is an excerpt from the Appleton Post Crescent with his story. If you've ever wondered what it's like to go through the ice and manage to survive, here's his story...
MENASHA — Darkness and shocking silence overwhelmed Brian Asendorf as the shining headlamp of his snowmobile slipped beneath moonlit waves on Lake Winnebago last weekend. Frigid, 37-degree water quickly filled Asendorf's boots, soaking his polyester-filled coat and bib coveralls and added dangerous weight to the 41-year-old Neenah man's body. Asendorf feared the extra weight would pull him down the same path as his snowmobile to the lake bottom.
Moments before, Asendorf, watching what he thought were the approaching lights of Waverly Beach, gunned his Arctic Cat forward across the smooth lake ice about 8:40 p.m. on Jan. 9 not noticing he was racing toward an expanse of open water that marked the mouth of the Fox River at Menasha near Jefferson Park.
With water encircling his neck, Asendorf, who had survived a near-fatal heart attack four years earlier, kicked into survival mode. As he fought to keep his head above water, his mind focused on his wife, his five daughters and an episode of the television show called "Man vs. Wild," in which the host, Bear Grylls, showed how to safely climb from Arctic waters onto surrounding solid ice.
What Asendorf didn't know was that two snowmobilers had traveled the same path a short time before him and now lay dead beneath the waves.
At night, Lake Winnebago offers 215 square miles of featureless darkness.
Brian Asendorf has traveled the darkened lake route many times, but on the night of Jan. 9, Asendorf lost his bearing.
Like many snowmobilers, Asendorf was headed due north, but Waverly Beach, his destination, is east of due north.
"I tried to stay toward the center of the lake. I've done that trip so many times," Asendorf said. "I saw what were the lights at Jefferson Park, but they looked like the lights at Waverly Beach."
Asendorf was staring at those lights when he felt the rear end of his snowmobile drop.
"Then I felt a wave hit me in the back and I knew I was in open water," he said.
Asendorf gunned his snowmobile's engine in a futile attempt to skim his machine over the water. "It didn't work so I let go," he said. "All of a sudden everything was black. Once the snowmobile's headlight went out all I had was the night, the quiet, dark water and the cold.
"There was an eerie calm. I remember thinking, this is how people die."
Water splashed on the visor of Asendorf's helmet as he began kicking arms and legs to reach the ice 8 feet behind him.
"It's hard to put into words what I felt. You know if you don't get out of the water you are probably done," Asendorf said. "I just wasn't ready to go yet."
Visions of "Man vs. Wild" filled his head and Asendorf reached the ice shelf and began pulling himself from the water. "But the ice broke. I kept swimming and reached the ice again, but it broke a second time," he said.
Pangs of panic raced through Asendorf when the ice broke a second time.
"I began thinking of my wife and daughters. That gave me the fight I needed to get up on the ice."
Asendorf's water-soaked glove found a tiny crack in the ice. A crack just big enough for him to get a finger hold in the more solid ice.
"I pushed myself out of the water and up on the ice to my chest then spread out on the ice," he said.
Feeling the ice was strong enough, Asendorf stood up and surveyed his situation.
"There looked to be open water all around me," he said.
Miraculously, water hadn't reached Asendorf's cell phone yet, tucked beneath layers of clothing.
He called his wife, who then called 911.
Rescuers from Neenah-Menasha Fire Rescue plucked him from the ice.
"I knew I was OK when I heard the sirens coming from downtown Menasha," he said.
Well, the following is a story of a local man who did go through the ice...and survived. A couple of ironies here, his mishap was in the same location as the two fatalities, on the same weekend, within hours of each other. But since he survived, his story didn't make as much media coverage as the two fatalities, at least until now. The following is an excerpt from the Appleton Post Crescent with his story. If you've ever wondered what it's like to go through the ice and manage to survive, here's his story...
MENASHA — Darkness and shocking silence overwhelmed Brian Asendorf as the shining headlamp of his snowmobile slipped beneath moonlit waves on Lake Winnebago last weekend. Frigid, 37-degree water quickly filled Asendorf's boots, soaking his polyester-filled coat and bib coveralls and added dangerous weight to the 41-year-old Neenah man's body. Asendorf feared the extra weight would pull him down the same path as his snowmobile to the lake bottom.
Moments before, Asendorf, watching what he thought were the approaching lights of Waverly Beach, gunned his Arctic Cat forward across the smooth lake ice about 8:40 p.m. on Jan. 9 not noticing he was racing toward an expanse of open water that marked the mouth of the Fox River at Menasha near Jefferson Park.
With water encircling his neck, Asendorf, who had survived a near-fatal heart attack four years earlier, kicked into survival mode. As he fought to keep his head above water, his mind focused on his wife, his five daughters and an episode of the television show called "Man vs. Wild," in which the host, Bear Grylls, showed how to safely climb from Arctic waters onto surrounding solid ice.
What Asendorf didn't know was that two snowmobilers had traveled the same path a short time before him and now lay dead beneath the waves.
At night, Lake Winnebago offers 215 square miles of featureless darkness.
Brian Asendorf has traveled the darkened lake route many times, but on the night of Jan. 9, Asendorf lost his bearing.
Like many snowmobilers, Asendorf was headed due north, but Waverly Beach, his destination, is east of due north.
"I tried to stay toward the center of the lake. I've done that trip so many times," Asendorf said. "I saw what were the lights at Jefferson Park, but they looked like the lights at Waverly Beach."
Asendorf was staring at those lights when he felt the rear end of his snowmobile drop.
"Then I felt a wave hit me in the back and I knew I was in open water," he said.
Asendorf gunned his snowmobile's engine in a futile attempt to skim his machine over the water. "It didn't work so I let go," he said. "All of a sudden everything was black. Once the snowmobile's headlight went out all I had was the night, the quiet, dark water and the cold.
"There was an eerie calm. I remember thinking, this is how people die."
Water splashed on the visor of Asendorf's helmet as he began kicking arms and legs to reach the ice 8 feet behind him.
"It's hard to put into words what I felt. You know if you don't get out of the water you are probably done," Asendorf said. "I just wasn't ready to go yet."
Visions of "Man vs. Wild" filled his head and Asendorf reached the ice shelf and began pulling himself from the water. "But the ice broke. I kept swimming and reached the ice again, but it broke a second time," he said.
Pangs of panic raced through Asendorf when the ice broke a second time.
"I began thinking of my wife and daughters. That gave me the fight I needed to get up on the ice."
Asendorf's water-soaked glove found a tiny crack in the ice. A crack just big enough for him to get a finger hold in the more solid ice.
"I pushed myself out of the water and up on the ice to my chest then spread out on the ice," he said.
Feeling the ice was strong enough, Asendorf stood up and surveyed his situation.
"There looked to be open water all around me," he said.
Miraculously, water hadn't reached Asendorf's cell phone yet, tucked beneath layers of clothing.
He called his wife, who then called 911.
Rescuers from Neenah-Menasha Fire Rescue plucked him from the ice.
"I knew I was OK when I heard the sirens coming from downtown Menasha," he said.
