New Hampshire winters are usually about skiing or complaining about the heating bill. But in a tiny corner of Lake Winnipesaukee, something weird and wonderful happens when the mercury drops. Pilots from all over the country start checking the ice thickness. They aren't looking to go ice fishing or skating. They want to land their planes on a frozen lake. This isn't some secret government operation or a daredevil stunt gone wrong; it is the Alton Bay ice runway, the only FAA-certified ice runway in the lower 48 states.
Think about that for a second.
The Federal Aviation Administration, an agency not exactly known for its sense of humor or "go with the flow" attitude, actually puts this patch of ice on official sectional charts. It has its own airport identifier: B21. When the ice reaches a solid 12 inches—though 18 is better—the "airport" officially opens for business.
What Actually Happens at Alton Bay
You might think landing on ice is a recipe for a sliding disaster. Honestly, it’s smoother than some of the paved strips in rural New England. The local volunteers, led by people who have lived in the Lakes Region for decades, use a plow truck to clear a 2,600-foot strip. They don't just push the snow aside; they create a legitimate runway complete with taxiways and a parking area near the town docks.
The runway usually runs roughly north-south, following the natural geography of the bay. Pilots come in over the trees, drop down toward the white expanse, and touch down on a surface that feels more like packed dirt than a skating rink.
Why do they do it? For the burger.
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Most pilots call it the "hundred-dollar hamburger" run, though with fuel prices these days, it's probably closer to three hundred. You land, tie down your plane on the ice, and walk fifty yards to Shibley’s at the Pier or Pop’s Clam Shell. There is something fundamentally absurd and joyous about walking off a Cessna and straight into a restaurant while wearing a flight suit.
The Science of "Will I Sink?"
Ice is tricky. The volunteers who manage the Alton Bay ice runway don't just eyeball it. They drill holes. Lots of them.
Ice strength isn't just about thickness; it’s about quality. "Blue ice" is the goal. That’s the solid, clear stuff that forms when the lake freezes hard and fast without a lot of snow mixed in. If the ice is "honeycombed" or slushy, the runway stays closed. There have been years where the ice never got thick enough, and the runway never opened. In 2023, for instance, the season was incredibly short because the weather just wouldn't cooperate.
Physics matters here. A light aircraft like a Piper Cub or a Cessna 172 doesn't actually put that much pressure on the ice when it's moving. The weight is distributed across the tires. However, once the plane stops, that static weight starts to press. That is why you’ll see pilots parked in a specific area where the ice is verified to be at its thickest.
Things Most People Get Wrong About B21
A lot of folks assume you need skis on your plane. Nope.
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Standard tires work just fine. In fact, if the ice is cleared well, you have a surprising amount of traction. Braking is the real challenge. You don't "slam" on the brakes on an ice runway unless you want to do a 360-degree spin and provide free entertainment for the locals watching from the shore. You use aerodynamic braking—basically keeping the nose up—and let the friction of the snow and ice do the work for you.
- Myth: It's open all winter. Reality: It's usually a February thing, maybe late January.
- Myth: Anyone can land there. Reality: Technically yes, but if you don't have a short-field landing down pat, you’re going to end up in the snowbank at the end of the bay.
- Myth: There is a control tower. Reality: It’s a "see and avoid" situation. Pilots talk to each other on a Common Traffic Advisory Frequency (CTAF).
The wind in the bay can be brutal. Because you’re surrounded by hills, the wind tends to swirl. You might have a headwind at 50 feet and a crosswind the moment your wheels touch the ice. It keeps you on your toes.
The Community Vibe
If you visit Alton Bay during a busy Saturday in February, it feels like a festival. People bring lawn chairs. They stand on the docks with cameras. It’s one of the few places where the general public can get that close to active aircraft without a TSA agent breathing down their neck.
The relationship between the town and the flying community is special. The New Hampshire Department of Transportation (NHDOT) Bureau of Aeronautics actually oversees the strip, but the heavy lifting is done by locals. Paul LaRochelle, a long-time airport manager and local legend, spent years ensuring the runway met safety standards. It’s a labor of love.
Survival Tips for Your First Visit
If you're flying in, check the NOTAMs (Notices to Air Missions). This is non-negotiable. If the runway is closed due to a crack or soft spots, and you land anyway, you're not just risking your plane; you're risking the future of the airport itself.
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- Dress for the Arctic. It is always ten degrees colder on the ice than it is on the street. The wind whips down the bay like a freight train.
- Watch for pedestrians. Locals walk their dogs on the ice. Kids play near the edges. Even though there are markers, people wander.
- Check the taxiway. Sometimes the runway is great, but the taxiway to the docks is slushy. Getting stuck in a plane is a lot more embarrassing than getting stuck in a car.
- Bring your own tie-downs. You can’t exactly screw an auger into the ice easily, but there are often pre-placed blocks or you can use "ice anchors."
For those driving in to watch, park at the town lot near the bandstand. Don't try to drive your car onto the ice near the planes. Just because a 2,500-pound plane can land doesn't mean your 6,000-pound SUV won't find a weak spot.
Why This Matters for New Hampshire
The Alton Bay ice runway is a bridge to a different era of aviation. It’s a reminder that flying can be about more than logistics and security lines. It’s about the joy of doing something slightly improbable because the environment allows it.
When the sun starts to set over the White Mountains and the light hits the ice, the runway glows. You’ll see a line of planes taking off one by one, their engines echoing off the hills, heading back to paved runways in Massachusetts, Maine, or Vermont. They leave behind a quiet bay and a few tracks in the snow.
It’s fleeting. That’s the beauty of it. In a few weeks, the "runway" will literally melt away and turn back into a place for pontoon boats and swimmers.
Actionable Next Steps
If you want to experience the runway this season, your first stop should be the official Alton Bay Ice Runway Facebook group or the NHDOT website. They provide daily updates on ice thickness and operational status.
- For Pilots: Practice your soft-field and short-field techniques at your home base before attempting B21. The runway is 2,600 feet, which sounds like a lot, but it shrinks fast when you're sliding.
- For Photographers: Golden hour (the hour before sunset) provides incredible reflections off the ice and the aluminum of the planes. Position yourself on the public docks for the best angle of the final approach.
- For Tourists: Plan your trip for a weekday if possible. Weekends are chaotic, and the wait for a table at the local restaurants can be over an hour when the planes are "in town."
Keep an eye on the New England winter weather patterns. A heavy snowstorm can shut the runway down for days until the plow crews can get back out there. It’s a game of patience and respect for the lake.