Lake Wiener-peg For Interlake farm couple, winter means smokies and footlongs on ice By: David Sanderson Posted: 12:37 PM CDT Thursday, Apr. 2, 2026

MATLOCK — Cool spot for a hot-dog cart? Yeah, you can say that again.

It’s Sunday morning in late March, with the temperature hovering close to the freezing mark. A cloudless sky is a brilliant shade of blue and there is a gentle breeze blowing out of the south — a harbinger of balmier days ahead.

Despite the relatively welcoming conditions, Rudy Wall is sporting three wool sweaters underneath a black quilted jacket emblazoned with a Torque Brewery insignia.

Even at 0 C, layering is key if you intend to be outdoors for six hours, he says, adding that besides a knitted tuque and long underwear, he is also wearing two sets of water-resistant socks inside a pair of shin-high insulated rubber boots.

Wall ought to know about staying warm. For three winters in a row, Wall, who along with his wife Rebecca McKay runs Cochrane Creek Farm in the vicinity of Petersfield, has operated a hot-dog cart on a frozen Lake Winnipeg.

There, from late December to early April, weather-permitting, he dishes out smokies, footlong dogs and breakfast sandwiches made with the couple’s own pork products to ice fishers who flock to the area by the dozens, via an RM-maintained entry point at the end of Warner Road, south of Matlock.

“You’re standing on it right now,” Wall tells a visitor who wonders where the lake is, exactly.

“If this was June, we’d be waist-deep in water. But don’t worry. Where we are is basically frozen right to the bottom. If it gets any warmer this afternoon we might get our toes wet, but that’s about it.”

Wall, 57, was born and raised on a farm near Swift Current, Sask. From an early age, the youngest of three siblings was counted on to feed cattle, haul bales of hay and seed fields — all before he caught a bus to school, he says, speaking loud enough to be heard over the whir of snowmobiles and Bombardier half-tracks headed onto the ice in the direction of their drivers’ fishing shacks.

He enjoyed life on the farm — plus he still bleeds green for his beloved Saskatchewan Roughriders — except he moved east after finishing high school to study theatre at the University of Winnipeg.

A handy sort, he ultimately left acting for the technical side of things. Name a Winnipeg-based theatre company that has been around since 1990, the year he graduated, and chances are he’s been involved with it in some capacity, either by handling lights and sound, or by helping to build props and sets.

“If having enough in the bank to pay rent was involved, I always preferred a piece of wood over directors,” he says with a wink.

Wall was introduced to McKay 20 years ago through a mutual friend. Their first date — “if you want to call it that” — wasn’t particularly memorable.

The two were placed on separate lanes during a group outing to a bowling alley. Luckily, they were invited to the same New Year’s party, a few weeks later. That night they struck up a conversation and “the rest, as they say, is history,” Wall reports.

In 2010 Wall and McKay, a public-sector employee, purchased their aforementioned farm. Around their individual careers, they began raising free-range, egg-laying chickens. They added long-haired heritage pigs to the mix in 2013. Like the hens, the pigs freely roamed the 80-acre property, albeit under the watchful eye of as many as five pooches.

“My parents’ farm was free-range, only nobody called it that 40 years ago,” Wall says. “If we were going to commit to keeping animals, it was important to me that we follow suit.”

By 2017, Wall and McKay were becoming familiar faces at area farmers’ markets, where they peddled frozen pork products such as ribs, chops and sausages. While their sales were satisfactory, they never seemed able to match what their counterparts were bringing in — a set of circumstances Wall attributed to their then-inability to offer free samples.

What if they invested in a food cart of some sort, he proposed, which would allow them to grant potential customers a taste of their wares? McKay agreed it was an idea worth investigating. The suggestion remained on the back burner until the spring of 2020 — the advent of the pandemic.

“I was the master carpenter at the (Tom Hendry) Warehouse (Theatre) from 2017 to 2020, when I lost my job due to COVID,” Wall says.

“If you’re a registered farmer — which I was — you can’t collect EI, even if you have outside income. I also didn’t qualify for government benefits like CERB. It became a question of picking up a hammer or picking up more farming. I went with the latter.”

Wall spent close to two years shopping for, then refurbishing, a used, propane-powered hot-dog cart.

The unit, along with a sun-yellow, hand-painted menu board, made its debut in June 2023 at a market in Selkirk.

His hunch proved correct. Sales rose dramatically, likely owing to the aroma of smokies and chorizo dogs roasting on the grill.

That said, he concluded that if they wanted the cart to be viable, he would have to fire it up 12 months of the year, largely owing to their rural address, which, coupled with their daily farming duties, meant they couldn’t position themselves on Broadway in downtown Winnipeg, Monday to Friday, as competitors could.

“For that reason, I set about winterizing the cart, mostly by figuring out how to have a hot-water supply, as dictated by health inspectors,” he says.

Although he doesn’t fish, he always considered the ice-fishing community an untapped market.

He parked on Lake Winnipeg, south of Matlock, for the first time in January 2024. Within 20 minutes, he was greeted with fishers’ comments along the lines of “I always hoped somebody would do this,” and “Smokies? Out here in the middle of nowhere? Where have you been all my life?”

To date, the coldest temperature he has endured was -35 C.

When it’s that frigid, he relies on rubbing alcohol to sanitize his cart, what with water freezing in a matter of seconds.

Keeping his hands warm is by far the toughest part of the job. He abhors wearing gloves — it makes it difficult to serve, he feels — so he mainly relies on heat emanating from his barbecue grill to keep from freezing his fingers.

Sure he could sit in his sturdy 1995 F-150 truck during lulls, but he’d rather pace back and forth, to keep the blood flowing.

Most do, he says, when asked if customers recognize his smokies and dogs aren’t store-bought.

That’s partly because he goes out of his way to spread the news. That and he posts signs reading “from our farm,” “local” and “free-range.”

Additionally, his hand-built condiment rack boasts his made-from-scratch relish, jars of which are for sale at the Matlock Village Junction convenience store, on Matlock Road.

Lake Winnipeg isn’t the only frozen body of water you’ll find Wall on.

Last winter, he was hired to cook for a fishing derby that took place on Lake Shirley, on Murdock Road in Transcona.

He is also associated with the Winnipeg Sports Car Club’s Fire on Ice events, which sees enthusiasts racing their vehicles on frozen surfaces across the province. (Although he didn’t end up in the wiener’s, err, winner’s circle, Wall did try his hand at the sport a few weeks ago in Gimli.)

Million-dollar question: When Wall is slinging tube-steaks in the summer, on days when it’s hot enough to fry an egg on the sidewalk, does he ever wish he’s back on a frozen lake, versus sweating it out in front of a sizzling grill?

Not on your life, he says with a chuckle, noting come July, he will again be a registered vendor in the Exchange District, at the Winnipeg Fringe Theatre Festival.

You can also find him and McKay at the St. Norbert Farmers’ Market on Saturdays.

“I’m definitely a warm-weather guy,” he says, telling the driver of a stopped vehicle to give him five minutes, as the first set of dogs are almost ready.

“Don’t get me wrong, this is a kick and I absolutely love it out here. Still, I’ll gladly take plus-30 every day of the week.”

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