I pride myself on stumbling into stories that would raise the eyebrow of even the hardiest purveyor of oddities, but this week, Minnesota gave us a doozy: someone, quite unintentionally, managed to drain an entire lake. Yes, in the “Land of 10,000 Lakes,” one just up and vanished—due to what the Minnesota Department of Natural Resources (DNR) gently termed a “mechanical issue.” CBS Minnesota recounts that Alice Lake—ordinarily a nondescript, fish-filled spot northeast of the Twin Cities—pulled a full Houdini and is temporarily no more.

A Lake on the Lam

According to details compiled by the DNR and shared with CBS Minnesota, Alice Lake at William O’Brien State Park isn’t exactly a backyard puddle. Typically covering 26 acres and dropping to nine feet at its deepest, it hosted bluegills, largemouth bass, northern pike, walleyes, and other aquatic regulars. The recent soggy spell nudged water levels higher, sending the excess trickling over into the St. Croix River. State staff, aiming to restore balance, opened the lake’s water control valve—essentially a large mechanism designed to manage such surpluses.

Here’s where things slid into peculiar territory. As staff tried to close the valve after the water receded, the gear responsible for shutting everything down simply wouldn’t cooperate. Sara Berhow with Minnesota State Parks & Trails explained that “the mechanism that closes that valve was not functioning, and the valve could not be closed.” This hiccup transformed an ordinary day at the lake into a sudden exodus, with nearly all the water draining straight into the river. It’s an unintentional magic trick with an ecological punchline: now you see it, now you… don’t.

Weeds, Fish, and Deadpan Reactions

Described by CBS Minnesota, local resident Dane Zierman expressed disbelief at the transformation: one day, the familiar lake view, the next, a raw patchwork of weeds and stranded fish. “It’s insane. You just start driving down, and you see all these weeds and there’s just no water,” Zierman said. The sight wasn’t just strange—it was grim, with large carp and northern pike left exposed. Zierman spent his Monday afternoon rescuing whatever fish he could, ferried by hand into the river. The everyday serenity of Alice Lake was swapped for something postapocalyptic, giving locals plenty to discuss beyond the weather.

The lake had quietly supported a bustling freshwater community, and the sudden swap from sheltered waters to the open current of the St. Croix probably wasn’t on any fish’s five-year plan. One wonders if, somewhere under the river’s surface, former lake-dwellers are swapping fish tales worthy of a Kafka novella.

The Fixer-Upper Lake

The restoration plan, as outlined by Berhow to CBS Minnesota, is straightforward—at least on paper. Once repairs on the faulty valve are complete, inflowing streams will gradually refill the lake, and within about a month, Alice Lake is expected to resume its place among Minnesota’s thousands of aquatic dots. It’s a vote of confidence for Minnesota’s laid-back faith in nature’s ability to bounce back, at least when valves cooperate.

But there’s gentle irony in how easily such a landmark can disappear, thanks to one stubborn piece of hardware. How many other lakes—across Minnesota or anywhere else—are just a misbehaving valve away from draining overnight? The logistical ballet required to keep lakes, rivers, and sometimes entire towns functioning is more fragile (and comic) than most of us care to imagine.

Lessons in Accidental Emptiness

If nothing else, Alice Lake’s sudden absence offers a modest reminder: even our most seemingly immovable features rest on mechanisms and maintenance that, occasionally, go spectacularly awry. Will the fish population bounce back once the water returns, or will tales of “the day the lake vanished” echo for decades among Minnesotan anglers and local wildlife alike?

And as the streams work to refill Alice Lake, some might cast a wary glance at the next unassuming pipe or valve, quietly holding the balance between “ordinary afternoon” and “feature story on the odd news beat.”