Long before flashing lights, diesel engines, and steel blades scraping asphalt, winter travel in the Northwoods of Wisconsin was a slower, tougher proposition. In communities like Rhinelander, Eagle River, Tomahawk, and the surrounding townships, snow was not an occasional inconvenience. It was a season long reality that shaped daily life, commerce, and how neighbors depended on one another.
At the turn of the twentieth century, snow removal was still largely a horse powered and human powered endeavor. Roads were not scraped clean to dirt the way we expect today. Instead, they were opened just enough to remain passable. The goal was access, not perfection. If you could get through, that was considered a success. Complaining about bare pavement would have earned you a look and probably a shovel.
Before motorized plows, towns relied on horse drawn wedge plows and winged plows, pulled slowly by teams of horses. These plows pushed snow to the sides of streets and packed what remained into a firm winter roadbed. Village streets and main county roads received attention first. Outlying rural routes often received none at all. Many were left untouched for weeks or even months, their winter purpose handed over to sleighs, sleds, and runners rather than wheels.
Much of this early snow fighting knowledge did not originate in town halls or highway departments, but in the woods. Logging companies were among the earliest pioneers of winter plowing techniques in the Northwoods. To move men, supplies, and logs through dense forests, they developed and refined plows that could navigate narrow tote roads, tight corners, and uneven terrain. Horse drawn wedge plows and adjustable wing plows were used to open winter roads through timberland, packing snow into smooth, durable surfaces that held up under heavy loads. County and city crews took notice. As municipalities began organizing regular snow removal, they adopted many of the same designs and methods first proven on logging roads deep in the forest.
Newspaper accounts from the era make this clear. Town boards debated the purchase of snow plows, but those discussions focused on keeping main routes open. No one expected every back road to be cleared. Winter travel simply adjusted. People planned ahead, bundled up, and accepted that winter had its own schedule.
One of the most vivid firsthand accounts comes from a 1911 newspaper item describing a plowing trip toward Rhinelander from the Sugar Camp area, a route that also served travelers coming in from the Three Lakes region. E. W. Knapp set out early with six men, four horses, and a snow plow. It was slow, punishing work. As the paper reported:
“It was an all day’s job as they did not arrive here until about nine o’clock that night. Mr. Knapp said the drifts were something fierce, being as high as the horses’ heads in places.”
That single line tells you everything you need to know. Snow removal was not measured in miles per hour. It was measured in daylight, endurance, and how well your horses were holding up.
Keeping roads open was not just about plowing. Snow fencing played a major role in early winter road maintenance across the Northwoods. Long stretches of wooden and wire fencing were installed each fall along open fields and known drift zones to trap blowing snow before it buried the road. In Oneida County alone, records show that more than forty miles of snow fence were put up each autumn. It was a simple solution, but an effective one, and it often made the difference between a road staying open or disappearing under repeated drifts.
Railroads offered a different kind of winter reliability. While roads drifted shut, rail lines had to stay open. Trains carried passengers, mail, and freight between major towns when roads could not. Rail companies invested early in specialized snow fighting equipment, including wedge plows and the dramatic rotary snow plows that could chew through deep drifts and throw snow clear of the tracks. By the early 1900s, these machines were often the only dependable connection between Northwoods communities during severe winters.
The transition to motorized snow plows came slowly. The first plows designed specifically for motor vehicles appeared around 1913, but it was not until the 1920s that towns in northern Wisconsin began investing seriously in truck mounted plows. Even then, expectations remained modest. Main streets first. Through routes second. Everything else would wait. Winter was long, and nobody expected miracles.
Public attitudes toward snow were different as well. Period newspapers regularly reminded residents that municipal plowing had limits. If the town could not afford to run the snow plow, editorials suggested that it was simply a neighborly act to shovel your own sidewalk and the street in front of your home.
Snow shoveling, readers were told, was good exercise, cost nothing, and benefited everyone. Clean walks made a town look alive and welcoming, especially to visitors arriving by train or sleigh. Waiting for the city to do it all was frowned upon. Winter, after all, was not going anywhere.
Fast forward to today, and the contrast is striking. In just the past decade, the Northwoods has seen several record and near record snowfall winters, pushing even modern plow fleets to their limits. Despite GPS guided trucks, hydraulic wings, round the clock operations, and equipment that would look like science fiction to a 1911 road crew, there are still days when roads drift shut, travel slows, and patience wears thin. The snow has not changed. Our expectations have.
A century ago, people understood that winter set the pace. Roads were opened when they could be. Sidewalks were cleared by hand. Neighbors helped neighbors. No one expected perfection by morning, and nobody was refreshing a phone app to check the road reports.
Modern equipment has made winter travel faster and safer, and that is a good thing. But when the snow piles up and the plows cannot quite keep up, the past offers a gentle reminder. Winter is something you live with, not conquer. And every now and then, we could all learn a thing or two from the patience, cooperation, and quiet toughness that carried the Northwoods through winters long before the first motor plow ever turned a blade.
Sources: Northwood’s Area Newspaper Articles, Rhinelander, Eagle River, 1890s-1930’s
