| Frankie, on her perch :) |
Driving a snowmobile doesn’t seem like that difficult of a task. They look similar to a jet ski with about 4 feet of snow skis jutting out from the front, and a continuous rubber track in the back. A driver has to do no more than hop on, insert the key, pull up the kill switch, push the electric start button or pull the starter cord, and depress the throttle to go. Easy, huh? A child could, and does, do it! If all trails were in a perfect straight line with no twisty turns, slopes, or uneven terrain a person could probably drive with their eyes closed. What a yawn that would be!
Because I crashed twice last year, scared my daughter, and busted up my sled a bit it occurred to me I might be doing something wrong, or at least not doing it as right as possible. Tipping over while speeding around a sharp corner is expected, and people get tossed from their sleds like rag dolls often so it’s not uncommon to have a few crash survival stories under your belt. Unfortunately, my second crash was scary, and expensive to fix. So on my last snowmobiling escapade, I paid careful attention to what I was doing, and why. I also did some internet research, but that didn’t yield much more than the basics such as Put on a Helmet, Have a Snowmobile with Key, Give the Motor some Gas, Use Handlebars to Steer, etc. Yawn.
The main thing I have trouble with is the throttle lever. It’s a thumb throttle mounted just below the right handlebar, so four fingers wrap around the handle for maneuvering and the thumb controls the gas. I don’t think I have freakishly small or girly hands, but my hand has to stay stretched open to be able to hold on and push the throttle, and it gets cramped and fatigued. Plus, I just don’t feel like I have proper control of the vehicle because my right hand can’t grip the handlebar entirely. That’s how I crashed twice last year. When I really needed all of my strength to control the sled, my thumb unintentionally fully engaged the throttle in my attempt to grip the handlebars, giving the sled maximum power and catapulting it out from under me. The best way I found to address this problem is...<don’t laugh>...to chant “Get in a jam, thumb off the throttle, thumb off the throttle,” (repeat obsessively). Ha! I know it’s hardly NASA quality technical advice, but it’s what works for me. There is a throttle extender that can be purchased, but it’s not really the length of the lever that gets me, it’s the orientation of it to the handlebar. I’ve also heard of changing the whole thing to a twist throttle, but firstly I’d lose my heated hand warmer, and lastly I think that would probably be worse, especially going down a hill when alot of forward pressure is placed on the handlebars for controlling and staying on the machine. I imagine a tight and hasty grip on a twist throttle might also accidentally engage it wide open. Also, I doubt “Get in a Jam, don’t twist the throttle” would work since my hand still has to be on the handlebar. So, for now “thumb off the throttle,” is my catchy tune for safety and to prevent Frankie and I from being hurled ungraciously through the air, again. ☺
Another thing I realized I wasn’t doing is engaging my leg muscles enough. Sitting astride a snowmobile for countless hours can get fatiguing. It’s important to remind your legs to stay alert, and hugged up to the machine, not flopping about like a fish’s leg out of water! The same rules applies to the abdominal area, or your “core.” Keep those muscles occupied for better posture and therefore better maneuverability of the sled and a less aching back. When you keep the core muscles flexed and your back straight, your arms are in better relation to the handlebars. Plus, I like to think of it as getting in my exercise: Sled Pilates! I also experimented with different sitting positions. The snowmobile is designed with foot stirrups on each side, a covered retreat for the feet carved into body of the sled useful for keeping feet warm and out of the wind, snow, or rain, and for leverage around corners. Previously I almost always sat with my feet in the stirrups, but I learned that I am also comfortable sitting with my legs at a 90 or a 45 degree angle, and I feel way more in control of the snowmobile that way.
Taking corners is the trickiest, and most dangerous part of the journey for me. Partly because I always have my daughter riding behind me on our 2 seater snowmobile. She’s learning to lean into the corners with me, but it’s a work in progress since she can’t always see the turns coming, and might be gazing off at some majestic foliage and not paying attention to my body movements. She has a comfortable perch with a back rest and heated hand warmers, and she loves to be in charge of Snowmobile hand etiquette. Because sledders always ride in a single file line, and some are faster than others, or the trail is twisty and visibility is poor, it’s not always possible to see how many sleds are in the oncoming group. It’s an expected courtesy to use a hand signal to display the number of sleds behind you as you pass approaching riders on two-way trails. Because my daughter and I are slower than riders with only one person on their sled, we usually have 1 or 2 people behind us, so she holds up 1 or 2 fingers. If the lead person has more than 5 riders behind him, he can show 5 fingers, then the person behind him will show 5 and so on, until the 5th person from the end will hold up 4, the next person will hold up 3, then 2, then 1. The last person will hold up a closed fist, palm forward, to signify they are the last in procession.
Corners are probably the trickiest parts of a trail to navigate. Oftentimes, my sled goes up on one ski when I’m twisting around a sharp curve. I always thought angling my body toward the levitated ski was the best way to correct it, and land myself back on both skis. On our last trip, I learned from another rider tapping the brake is also an effective maneuver. I didn’t get a chance to try that out, but I can’t wait for our next trip to put it to use!
Here’s a numbered list of my top How to Drive a Snowmobile Tips:
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| Helmet Heads :) |
- Be aware of all of your muscles. Especially, keep your legs and core engaged.
- Have a helmet with a heated shield. If you can’t see properly, you can’t drive properly.
- When navigating downhill or around corners or other places that are difficult, remind yourself to take your thumb away from the throttle and wrap it around the handlebar grips.
- If your sled goes up on one ski, shift your weight toward the levitated ski, or tap the hand break.
- Experiment with your legs in different seated or reclined positions.
- Be alert, but relaxed. Too much tension in your arms, hands, and legs is fatiguing and no fun.
- Teach your rider, if you have one, how to follow your body movements and use hand signals.
- ALWAYS use hand signals to alert oncoming riders of how many sleds are behind you.
- Pay close attention to the sled in front of and behind you. If you see the sled in front use hand signals, you’ll know there’s oncoming sleds. Keep tabs on the rider behind you in case anything happens. It’s better to know sooner than later if they crash or break down. It’s not hard to freeze to death in 20 below weather.
- Don’t be too nervous. Riding at night or in low visibility can be scary, as can sharp turns or uneven terrain. Make sure you’re not tensing all of your muscles or gripping the handlebars to too tightly. Relax, and go with the trail. It will lead you to places you never dreamed of! ♥

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