The frozen lake cracked beneath his feet. Brad Patterson halted and winced. His headache, receding until that moment, reared up and throbbed with renewed vigor. He squinted in the partial darkness and surveyed the moonlit shoreline. Then, mindful of his own plight, Brad scanned the white powder unblemished by his footsteps, spreading before him like an open field.

Lake Winnipesaukee would not experience ice out until April, if this year were like any other. Yet, no weather pattern guaranteed safety on the ice. Brad Patterson, a year-round resident of a shoreline cottage inherited from his parents, respected the lake’s mercurial dangers. In fact, he was more than mindful.

Somewhere beyond the trees, a pair of high-pitched engines whined. Lights bobbed for a second and vanished. The noise abated, perhaps muffled by the trees and hilly terrain. Brad wheeled and scanned the opposite horizon. A fishing derby meant all manner of visitors were braving the ice, with trucks and shacks dotting the darkened skyline of the other shore. Only a few bob houses could be seen from his vantage point. They hugged the far-distant shoreline, before a finger of land jutting onto the lake obscured further view.

It was from that finger of land that a pair of weaving lights re-emerged. With the dancing lights came a resumed whine and bark of snowmobile engines. A pang in Brad’s head prompted him to shuffle a few more feet into the unbroken snow, as he tried to gain a better vantage point. As he moved, the ice cracked again, and he arrested his steps.

The lights probed through the trees. Then, with a pronounced buzzsaw eruption of noise, two snowmobiles broke from the forest and surged across the snowbound ice. The silhouettes suggested an adult and a teen, perhaps a father and son, with the former taking the lead. They skated across the moonlit snow, their treads barely sinking. Underneath them was the ice of Lake Winnipesaukee.

Yet their progress lasted only seconds. Then, the ice capsized, and both machines and riders plunged out of sight.

Brad stared in horror and incomprehension. The machines had gone silent. The only vestige of the riders was a darker expanse of broken ice and rippling water. Yet, in seconds, a figure bobbed out of the water and scrambled toward a shelf of ice. It was the adult, judging by his silhouette, who dragged himself partially out of the lake. The younger rider was no where to be seen.

The older rider yelled, but his voice grew weaker as hypothermia took hold. He was screaming a boy’s name. Brad, for the rest of his life, would remember the sound of the man’s cries.

Two days later, Brad Patterson clicked on an article from the local newspaper. The story read:

“ALTON — Three people died when their snowmobiles plunged through the ice of Lake Winnipesaukee in a pair of separate tragic incidents Saturday. New Hampshire Fish and Game Lt. Carl Pengree oversaw the recovery efforts, one offshore near Alton and the other near Moultonborough.

“Around noon Saturday, three snowmobilers plunged into the water between Moultonborough and Sandy Island, Pengree said.”

The description of this incident continued. Brad Patterson skipped to the bottom of the page, where the article resumed:

“In a separate incident, after dark late Saturday afternoon, a father and his 14-year-old son were riding snowmobiles in the Alton area, off of Rattlesnake Island near The Broads, the deepest part of the lake, Pengree said.

"’They were up here with a group of people, and they were ice fishing together. The father and son decided to go for a snowmobile ride. They hit some very thin ice that had a thin covering of snow and they both went through,’ Pengree said.”

“The father managed to make it to an ice shelf and hang on until he was rescued by Tuftonboro Fire Rescue Department. An emergency call went out around 5:30 p.m. but responders had to suspend their search until Sunday. The boy's body was located at 9:30 a.m. Sunday in 73 feet of water, Pengree said.”

The article concluded that the father and son had come to the Alton area from New York and joined a group of seven people, all part of the fishing derby. Names of the victims were withheld pending notification of family.

Gov. Chris Sununu issued a statement Saturday following the fatalities, which read, "While the heavy snow from our recent winter storm provides for optimum conditions for winter sports like snowmobiling, they also create hazards and we must be cautious. Today's tragic accidents at Lake Winnipesaukee remind us that even in the best of winters our lakes can be highly unpredictable. There will always be areas of thin ice and open water that need to be avoided to ensure safety. Be careful and be aware of your surroundings. Our thoughts and prayers are with the victims and their families during this difficult time."

Brad Patterson closed his laptop and sat staring out the window. With the Sunday afternoon sun waning, he contemplated the weekend’s events. After watching the snowmobiles crash into the lake, he had retreated in his footsteps, leaving the scene with a hurried scamper. From his cottage, he had called rescuers, but they already had been alerted by other shoreline residents.

In the article, Pengree had warned that the lake is unpredictable and should be approached with caution.

"We have areas that are open that have a very thin layer of ice with snow on top that are not safe. If you're going to go out there, you need to go ahead and dig some holes and measure the depth of the ice and make sure it's safe."

As Brad Patterson slumped back into a kitchen chair, he surveyed a pile of flyers on his kitchen table. The stack, printed with orange words on white paper, read: “Warning. Lake ice is unstable. Check before riding.” The flyers overflowed into a heap, next to a row of empty bottles. A hammer and box of tacks completed the tableau.

Brad seized the stack of flyers and carried them to his woodstove. Then, with a deliberation borne of hollow feelings of guilt and shame, he opened the stove door, and stuffed the flyers inside. His last act before retiring to bed was to gather up the empty bottles on his table and dump them into the trash.