Snowmobiling Part 1

Frankie and My Snowmobile

You’re a Snowy Owl who has just alighted on the jagged extension of a thick branch, heavy with the powdery frozen precipitation of your namesake and bowing toward the white blanketed ground. A soundless predator, your yellow eyes are scanning the frozen forest below for an unwary lemming to offer up its venial life to satisfy your hunger. Through a narrow pardon in the overlapping canopy of snow coated limbs you visually attend the darting movements of a Brown lemming, skittering over the milky terrain with the jerky motions of a string puppet. A distant rumble alerts both predator and prey and the Great White Owl disengages from the hunt, barking out an alarm call while unfolding its massive wings and gliding buoyantly into the frigid air. 

The rumble escalates into a roar, and through the slender archway formed by an intimate web of snowflake encrusted tree branches, two parallel skis emerge followed by the sleek and sturdy body of a snowmobile. The colorfully adorned riders astraddle the motorized sleds are 15 in number, distributed amongst 13 machines, with 2 sleds carrying double passengers. The sleds are following a trail through the crystallized mountains and pathways of New Hampshire with a single common theme in mind: to enjoy the freedom of the feral element that winter snow creates in the environment, and to feel the chill air whiz by all shapes and sizes, caressing and encapsulating the driver in her magic. 

Snowmobiles can take you places no words can describe. Compact but powerful, they dart through labyrinths of overgrown brush and snow infused pathways like turbo charged lightening bolts. They will transport a rider high into the twisting trails up a towering mountain, deep into a crystallized forest, or glide seamlessly over railroad tracks, fields, or frozen lakes carpeted with thick snow. Some trails are only wide enough for 2 opposing sleds to pass comfortably, and some are as wide as a two lane highway. Oftentimes in New Hampshire, where the 15 of us took up residence this past weekend, the trails are only wide enough for one sled to pass. It is like a crystalline path that is flanked on all sides by the long white fingers of frozen limbs and tree skeletons, reaching out from several feet of snow like an ice corpse climbing out of its gelid grave. Trees and bushes that retain their green hue despite the arctic cold appear to be in a huddle clinging to each other for warmth, wearing the wintry snow like a bulky jacket. The specks of emerald poking out like tufts of unruly green hair make a startling contrast to the pure and dazzling white of miles of unblemished snow. 

Overhead, thick limbs reach toward one another from opposite sides of the trail in a welcoming embrace, obstructing sky views, and creating the illusion of time travel through an ice tunnel. A sense of solidarity with nature, and intertwined through the single file line of symbiotic sledders traveling through the ice tunnel, is apparent as each rider looks out for the team before and behind them. The growl and whine of the snowmobile engine is a thunderous confirmation of the sheer power of the machine, and one flick of the thumb throttle can send passengers hurtling up a steep cliff, or winging over the vast expanse of a frozen pond. 

Some of the 15 of us, taking a short break
on a trail out of Gorham, NH. 

Our party of 15 sledders ranged in age from 10 to over 50! My daughter is the 10 year old, and she has been snowmobiling with me since she was 3. Now we have a 2 seater sled, but I used to have a safety harness that secured her to the front of my body, like I was re-pregnant with a 3 year old. Even at that young age she loved going snowmobiling, and now she waits with thrilled anticipation for the day she can driver her own sled. Snowmobiling is my definitely my favorite way to spend a few days, but even though it is enchanting and otherwordly, it’s not without danger and some amount of skill. Tune in next Tuesday for Part 2 of my snowmobiling blog to hear about how I barely made it out of a crash alive, what I’ve learned about controlling and maneuvering a 2 up sled, and what I think about on those 180 mile trails...