When I was a child, I went with a friend and his grandfather to fishing under the ice. It was 5 km away. There was no pedestrian or colloquial in the presence, they took a loot with them (approximately such as described by the author) to crush the ice. Naturally, the broom was dragged by the grandfather, rolling on his shoulder like a lenin barrel on the famous Sabbath.
After about an hour and a half of rushing, taking the mountain, overcoming the snowy fields, we came to the fishing place. A friend grabbed the breakout, with all the thickness he plunged over the ice of the frozen hole. лом said goodbye to the day, and escaped through his hands to the bottom of the reservoir. Since then, it has probably been torching there, like the mattress of a sunken cruiser - covered with corals and other underwater life...
Can I give examples of coordinates for Dywing?

Call it Escalibur and ask the Lake Virgin to provide it to you... And then the manstrels will compose ballads about you and your Loma and the feats you accomplished.