Garfield Lake Ice Racers flagman Tom Lindahl positions cars before the start of a race. (Jerry Holt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

‘Welcome to Redneckville 500!’: Ice racing in northern Minnesota a beloved, loud tradition.

On Garfield Lake in Laporte, population 134, packs of cars fill the ice on any given Sunday.

By Kim Hyatt

The Minnesota Star Tribune

March 2, 2025 at 6:00AM

LAPORTE, MINN. – Windshield wipers bounce at a fever pitch. The right bolt-studded tires grind into the frozen lake and left tires levitate above the icy track as a pack of beat-up cars round each corner.

Engines ease off briefly when drivers tap the brakes in a delicate dance before they punch the gas, dashing to the next turn to do it all over again.

Hopefully without a crash.

Cars kick up snowy clouds of dust or heavy slush, depending on the weather. Either way, visibility is limited and speeds reach up to 60 mph on the straightaways on Garfield Lake. On this lake, the north end is for fishing and the south is for racing.

“I like to fish, too, but this is a helluva lot more fun,” said longtime ice racer Bob Pawlitschek, 66, of Lengby, Minn. “It makes the winter go by fast.”

What's it like inside a car racing around an icy northern Minnesota lake? Two words: thrill ride. (Jerry Holt and Kim Hyatt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Bucking the slow pace and silence of winter with ice racing is a time-honored tradition in Laporte.

Not much draws visitors here, even in the warmer months. The local grocery store brings in customers for its famed meat section. There are two bars in town and twice as many churches.

As folks fill pews for Sunday service, the ice racers prepare for a full day of adrenaline and agility. The number of cars on the ice eclipses the official population, 134, as spectators watch from inside their cars if it’s frigid, or pull out lawn chairs and sit on tailgates when the sun is shining. They cheer on drivers, set up charcoal grills, drink, high-five and heckle.

“Welcome to Redneckville 500!” a spectator says to a truck full of friends as they pulled up beside the busy track.

Ice racers make a lot of noise, but they also do a lot of good.

The Garfield Lake Ice Racers became a nonprofit in 2005, though the checkered flag first waved in 2001 and races officially began in 2002.

In the past decade, the group has donated nearly $500,000 to area schools, cancer patients and veterans. It is the charity recipient of electronic gambling and pulltab funds from three area bars, which allowed it to distribute $100,000 to the community last year alone. Not a dime goes to the racers.

Instead, they pay to race, a $40 annual membership fee and a $30 entry fee each Sunday. Around 30 drivers split into A and B class races, divvied up by level of experience and competitiveness.

The first race starts at noon and they squeeze in as many as they can before 4:30, including a powderpuff heat to accommodate more women drivers.

At the end of the season, the driver with the most points is awarded a jacket and bragging rights.

From top: Amy Thunstrom of Nevis, Minn., listens for race instruction. Bob Pawlitschek of Lengby, Minn., takes the lead in the curve, leaving a trail of snow. Pawlitschek would go on to win the race. Sam Delaney takes a practice round in his 1989 Oldsmobile custom cruiser, with his friend Ray Wilcowski, son Logan Delaney and wife Tara Delaney along for the ride. (Jerry Holt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

‘Hooting and hollering’

The Garfield Lake Association wasn’t thrilled when peaceful Sundays in winter were replaced with the equivalent of a NASCAR speedway echoing across the lake.

“While things are closed up in the wintertime, you still heard them,” said Ron Ray, association president.

But naysayers quickly changed their tune when they learned how much the ice racers were doing to help all areas of life, from 4-H to first responders, volunteer fire departments, food shelves and homeless shelters.

“They clean up after themselves. They make everything just great. So they’ve done a wonderful job, they really have,” Ray said.

Tom Lindahl is the head flagman and has been since the early days after he tried out racing for a few years.

“Everybody was bored that didn’t fish, and if you didn’t fish you had to do something,” he said. “We even got a lot of people who used to fish that quit Sundays to come and do this.”

And they're off! Tom Lindahl waves the green flag to start a race. (Jerry Holt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Lindahl used to bring his grandson, Cameron Labelle, along to watch. Now Labelle, 18, races — and often wins.

“I race dirt track, too, and it’s a big difference, because dirt track, it’s just you in the car, but ice racing, you all just pile in and it’s a good time hooting and hollering,” Labelle said.

Cars need at least one spotter inside to help them clear corners and avoid crashes. More passengers also helps weigh down the cars, so friends and family climb in the back.

Kids who just got their driver’s permit can race with an adult. They compete against seasoned racers like Pawlitschek, who drives a 1982 Oldsmobile Cutlass with a Chevy motor and transmission.

“You’re not gonna stop on a dime, but a good 50-cent piece,” Pawlitschek said.

The cars might not show it, but a lot of time and money is poured into them to make them run — and get passed down to the next generation.

Bonnie Farrington, 41, of Akeley was one of the first women to compete in the races. She’s retired, but not her car. Daughter Lily Farrington, 16, is racing it now.

“I always rode with my mom when I was a kid and it’s just fun to be in her point of view behind the wheel,” she said. “Once you’re on the track, it’s kinda everybody’s game. It doesn’t matter how old you are, if you’re a boy or girl.”

She said the ice is less forgiving than racing on the dirt. Her dad puts nearly 300 studs into each of the front tires. Without them, “you’d be ice skating out there,” she said.

Reid Watson, 48, of Laporte teared up watching his son Blake, 17, win his first ice race in January. His daughter Calli, 15, races, too, carrying on the love of a sport that Watson and his friends started with almost three decades ago.

“Where else can you come slide around on ice with a carload of your buddies running into other cars full of your buddies?” Watson said. “It doesn’t get any better.”

From top: For Vivienne Branham, watching ice races is as much fun as driving in one. Seventeen-year-old Hunter Weeks climbs through the window of the car driven by his brother Landon Weeks, 16, who recently started racing. The Weeks brothers' mom, Emily, congratulates Landon after he won first place in his ice racing division. (Jerry Holt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

‘Clean, cold fun’

Like the moonshine-fueled stock car racing that led to NASCAR, the origins of ice racing in Laporte revolve around a local watering hole.

“It was a way to get people in my bar,” said Kurt Honer, who brought ice races to Laporte and used to own a bar in town.

“The Vikings sucked that year. I couldn’t get nobody in to watch football on Sunday.” To make matters worse, there was no snow for two years for the snowmobiles, and his bar was on the busiest trail. “I had to do something.”

Honer sponsored ice racers at the former track in Hackensack and thought Laporte could hold its own.

“We tried it and it’s been going nuts ever since,” he said.

He used to race, too, but nowadays you can find him leading the fleet of snowplows clearing the track. Plows help push or tow cars that are broken down or stuck in a berm.

A plow also pulls a piece of old pipeline studded with bolts that rolls along the track, chewing it up for more traction.

It takes a team to maintain the track, keep score and flag drivers to ensure safety is prioritized and the rules are followed. Surprisingly, injuries are few.

Rules include no white cars — the brighter the colors, the better — and if all four tires leave the ice, the driver’s disqualified.

Only the front two tires can be studded, and brakes must be in working condition. A fire extinguisher and muffler are mandatory.

Ben LaPatka of Nevis, Minn., replaces the studded tires on wife Mariah LaPatka's ice racing car. (Jerry Holt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

Organizers require at least 18 inches of ice to host races. A warm winter last year canceled the season. And with the upswing in recent temps, the season is officially over.

They’re lucky to get eight races in; only five have been held this year, with a few cancellations due to dangerously cold weather.

Even after the track is melted and pontoons replace cars and ice houses on Garfield Lake, the racers continue raising money.

They’ve created one of the largest scholarship funds for graduating seniors in Laporte. When the school needed a new piano, they pitched in $2,500. Ice racers helped the Bemidji middle school pay for a wheelchair-accessible playground. They’ve donated to the Walker holiday lights display and host dinners for hundreds of veterans each year.

“Nobody gets any money except the people that are in need. And that’s the cool thing about this sport,” said Dennis Peterson of Bemidji, who’s been taking photos of the ice races for about a decade.

“At first I was shocked. Racing around with no helmets on and extra people sitting in the cars? I thought, ‘This is insane,’” he said.

But he’s only witnessed one bad crash. Other than that, he said “it’s clean, cold fun.”

Spectators, including Emily Weeks, whose son Landon, 16, was racing, line up to cheer on the drivers. (Jerry Holt/The Minnesota Star Tribune)

about the writer

Kim Hyatt