Good Beer Hunting

no. 450


Yesterday, I ventured outdoors in a -47ºF windchill to capture the dazzling sea fog floating off of Lake Michigan. This morning, I woke up early with no intention of foolishly traveling beyond The Wall and risking my life against White Walkers, frostbite, and hypothermia.

But at 7am, the arctic instinct of my Siberian Husky, Remi, kicked in. She was ready for a stroll into the positively-balmy-by-comparison -21ºF. So I grabbed my camera, layered up like Randy in A Christmas Story, and jogged to Belmont Harbor with her.

As we approached the lake, the sea fog soared even higher than the day before. Remi was in heaven. And I? Well, I kind of was, too. She hopped through banks of snow and burrowed her face in tundra, and I took some shots of the city that I love in an almost unimaginable light.

Forty-five minutes later, the loss of feeling in my toes was as good a sign as any that it was time to head home. After a few cups of coffee and a WarPigs Foggy Geezer, I warmed back up. Turns out, a polar vortex’s beauty is an admirable thing after all.