Toftree's Lair of the Ice Gods

Toftree's Lair of the Ice Gods

By Michael Hermann; Lizard Tracks, Centre Daily Times, Feb, 2000

There is a section of land near the Toftrees Country Club that goes by the name State Game Lands #176. During winter I like to call it the Lair of the Ice Gods. The combination of cold temperatures and a year round sprinkler system creates a surreal landscape tucked away behind the American Ale House and Grill. The parking lot is easy to find a few hundred feet from the restaurant in Toftrees.

This parking lot is posted with half a dozen signs, most of which carry the Pennsylvania Game Commission logo. But it also has the Penn State touch - a vague bit of science with the keywords ‘Spray Irrigation Area’ and ‘Wastewater Treatment’. The road is gated closed, but you’ll notice that it remains plowed and has fresh tire tracks from the researchers daily visits. They must be looking for the Ice Gods.
Normal people don’t water their lawns after a snowfall. Most of us turn off our outside water source at the first freeze in fear of bursting a pipe. But here no such fears are present. The water flows constantly from a complex network of industrial sprinklers. These babies could water my lawn, and my five nearest neighbors lawns, if I was so inclined to replicate the system. I imagine there is an ordinance against such water superiority on my street.

But this place is a very different place. Thousands of gallons of water are flung about by a network of high pressure sprinklers several feet off the ground. The water covers the trees, the bushes and the ground day in and day out. When the temperature drops below freezing, the Lair of the Ice Gods is created.

The ice builds up like layers of paint. The sheets of water form layer upon layer of crystal clear ice. In places, with enough cold temperatures, the ice is over a foot thick. The bushes become crushed under the weight, until the ice forms a dome that actually becomes structural, like a turtles shell. The tree’s shapes become exaggerated and twisted, the weaker boughs break under the strain, but become entombed in their own tangle. The blankets of snow are preserved under sheets of ice, a rolling landscape as if children had poured liquid plastic on a model. At times I expect a big hand to pick me up, landscape and all, and shake us upside down to make the snowflakes settle.

On a blue sky day under brilliant sunshine, following a scientifically correct cold snap, this is one of my favorite places to visit. Is it a wilderness experience? Definitely not. Is it natural? Sort of. If you like surreal ice sculpture this is Mecca.

From the parking lot a network of gravel roads basically follow a grid system. They are not named and you will need to keep your sense of direction as you walk around. They do carry an abstract numbering system but I have yet to decipher it. I simply park at the gate and begin to walk around the block, or blocks, as I explore the fields. If you stray from the roads you may get trapped in the sprinkler system.
The sprinklers come on and off at random, at least to my non-researching perspective. I imagine they adhere to a rigid timed release and the gallons per acre is precisely measured by someone. But sometimes, when I am walking past a dormant field at just the right moment, I watch the sprinklers come to life. The first clue is an isolated chirp as the water pressure builds. Then several more chirps scattered across the field, followed by a raucous chorus as all the sprinklers explode with water and begin their dance. The sprinklers are orchestrated to spray in 180 or 270 degree arcs, then return to the point of origin to begin the cycle again. Just like our home sprinklers but with much more gusto.

I see the tracks of cross country skis traversing the fields so people do more than walk here. Usually you’ll encounter several people walking their dogs, taking a long lunch break or enjoying an afternoon off. Most folks stick to the roads, I tend to explore a bit.
I follow the pipeline networks and walk around the ice sculptures. I pray the sprinklers remain dormant but I like the risk as well. In places the ice floor gives way and I fall in to my knees, or higher, but the bottom is always earth. There is little fear of falling into a lake although one can never be certain. When I hear the telltale chirp of the sprinklers I beeline for the road. Remember the signs clearly stated “Wastewater”, not to be confused with drinking water.

This area is a place so weird it defies description. The landscape returns to normal in warmer months and makes a nice place to run or bike. But in winter, when the sprinklers run for days on end and the temperature remains below freezing, it becomes the Lair of the Ice Gods. I love the chance to wander through their realm.

When you go: Cricklewood Drive is the main corridor through Toftrees. The parking area is located next to the American Ale House and Grill.

Michael Hermann is the founder of Purple Lizard Maps and has been exploring Centre County since 1979.