I recently read an article that ranked the states according to how miserable their winters were. You might have guessed it. Minnesota was number one. We even beat out Alaska.

 

While the ranking was completely unscientific, and based entirely on what the authors know, or at least think they know, about each state, there’s no denying our winters can be brutal.

 

Minnesota winters seem endless. The days are more often than not dreary, bleak and colorless. The sky is grey, the trees are bare and dead looking, and it can get so cold it hurts to breathe. Our northern communities are often the coldest spots in the country. International Falls actually has the nickname “icebox of the nation.”

 

I personally hate winter. I hate the dark. I hate the cold. I get depressed and would rather stay in bed hugging the covers for dear life than get up and face the frozen tundra. What’s better than winter in my book? Almost everything.

 

Even so, I have to admit there is beauty in winter. Sunlight glinting off freshly fallen snow, hoarfrost covering everything in the early morning, and huge snowflakes falling softly from a night sky are some of the most beautiful things I’ve seen.

 

Like most Northern kids I grew up loving winter. Weekends were often spent snowmobiling with groups of my parents’ friends. My sister and I would make snowmen and snow forts, go sledding and prepare for neighborhood snowball fights. 

 

We wouldn’t come in until we couldn’t feel our fingers any longer and our boots were full of the little balls of snow that would invariably appear. 

 

School always seemed to be canceled or late during winter. I grew up on the edge of the flatlands in west central Minnesota, and with nothing to block the wind snowstorms inevitably turned into whiteout blizzards that could last up to three days. It would take another day or two to get the roads cleared enough to be drivable. 

 

One winter it snowed and blew so much we had a snowdrift in our front yard that was higher than the picture window; it felt like we were entombed. My sister and I thought it was great; my mom hated it.

 

It amazes me how many misconceptions people still have about our state. Once while on a family vacation in Missouri, I was watching my kids swim in the motel swimming pool and started up a conversation with the man sitting next to me. 

 

After introducing ourselves, the man, who was from Georgia, asked me how much snow we had in Minnesota. It was July. He was astonished when I told him it was in the 80s when we left. 

 

I hear this sort of thing all the time when I travel. And don’t get me started on how our accent is portrayed.

 

In 1994 the governor closed all Minnesota public schools due to the extreme cold and dangerous wind chills, which, if I remember right, was the first time that had been done. The closing was all over the news across the country, which just helped perpetuate the myth that we’re a land of endless snow and cold. 

 

Even with the school closings, for most Minnesotans it was business as usual that day. My husband’s job at the time required him to be outside; it never crossed his mind not to go to work. If anything, we just warmed up our cars a bit longer before heading out.

 

Throughout all the snow, sleet and frigid temperatures, there’s a sense of pride that comes from living here. We’re a hardy people. Minnesota winters aren’t for wussies. 

 

We laugh when states close down because two inches of snow fell. Ha! Try 18 inches. We smirk when we see southerners bundled up because the temperature dropped to 35 degrees. That’s a winter heat wave for us. Try 35 below.

 

However even the most winter-loving Minnesotans are ready for it to be over after months of shoveling snow, scraping ice off windshields, heating bills and wind chill factors. 

 

But it seems just when we think we’ve made it through another one, a late spring blizzard will come by, dashing our hopes of warmth and sunshine for just a little longer.

 

You’ve got to be strong to survive a winter here.

 

Winters in our state are never easy, but we bundle up and face the day knowing spring is on its way. And spring is never so sweet as it is in Minnesota.