Sunday, February 17, 2008

President's weekend means snowmobiles


Before I start this article, I want you to know I updated the previous article to include a front picture of the Wilsbach camp so you all can compare it easier.

This weekend being long and the first one we have had enough snow to snowmobile for a while has encourage a constant stream of snowmobile traffic. Today the weather is going bad with rain and freezing rain which is going to put a damper on the good times. The first picture shows a few of the snowmobiles at the Sunlight Gun Club just a few hundred yards up the road from me. I took it yesterday during a nice sunshine streak and everyone was in a good mood. I have decided to attached a copy of my first years experiences up here snowmobiling for you all to enjoy. A few things changed this year as we now do not have to depend on the snowmobile to get out since the road is plowed, which has been a big relief. Enjoy and have a great Leetonia Day!

Snowmobiling Lessons by Paula Martin (written in 2002)

Living in the backwoods seven miles off plowed roads requires some planning for emergencies. One of these plans was to have a snowmobile to ride out to get the mail and to the car parked at the plowed road.

I will be the first to admit I knew nothing about snowmobiles. I only knew I wanted one that could carry two people and be reliable. I hoped to spend $500 on a nice used one. That dream was quickly shattered, $500 machines looked like they might be better as lawn ornaments than something to ride. In October, we found the machine we wanted a two-seater 95 Polaris with reverse. Tax, licenses, and two helmets it came to a little over $2000.00. Over budget, but confident we had a machine that would get us out of the woods when we needed it. We hauled it home.

On a warm October day we put our helmets on and climbed onto it waiting for the snow and glad no one drove by to see us. The snow started early in November and by December we had enough snow to give it a try. I went to start it. Nothing. Time to read the owner’s manual. After following all starting instructions to the tee, I figured the battery was dead. So I placed it on the battery charger and impatiently waited. Once charged it started sputtering slowly getting warmed up ready to run. I looked down and noticed it was frozen to the ground. Now I had to get it loose. I pried, jumped, pushed and finally freed it from its icy prison.

Ready to move, I found the large beast needed a large area to turn in and I spent as much time backing up as going forward. Then I started down the road, trying to get used to a feeling of being bumped and slide along with the forward motion. Okay, I thought, lets see where it will go. Six inches of soft snow had fallen over ground that wasn’t totally frozen. Snowmobiles can go anywhere there is snow. I reached the top of our mountain and decided to divert from the trail. As soon as I went off the trail I noticed the snowmobile slipping more and more I decided to head back up to the trail. I started to spin a hole through the snow to the ground below and came to a stop. I couldn’t go up and looking down at the steep slope below decided not to go down. I got off and pushed. The sled was heavy and I could only move it about six inches at a time. After about forty-five minutes I had uncovered more dirt and moved in the wrong direction. Discouraged, I turned the machine off and walked back to the cabin.

Fortunately, we could still drive our Subaru up the hill not far from the snowmobile. Two people pushing and driving the snowmobile freed it up. Lesson one: Don’t drive in deep or soft snow.

When the snow packed down it was easier to drive the snowmobile. The forecast was for freezing rain. Rain matted the snow down into a wet slush and then a temperature drop froze the whole mess. I broke the snowmobile loose from the ground again and started it. The skags gritted against the ice and the machine seems to bounce from rut to rut. I ran between five and ten miles per hour and tried to drive on any snow I could see left by the storm. Then I hit a slight incline of pure ice. The snowmobile started to go sideways towards the drop off side of the road. I slowed to a stop and stepped off the snowmobile to inspect the situation. I hit the ground as fast as my feet touched it. Half holding the snowmobile I pushed and slide it to a small piece of gravel and got it past the ice. Lesson two: Snowmobiles do not like ice. Later, I found out you can have ice spikes put in the track that helps with this for about $300.

I am an avid cross-country skier and we have a lot of nice trails near my house. However, storms have a way of littering them with trees. I decided the snowmobile could carry with my chainsaw and gas to the sites I needed to clear. I cleared the first trail without problems. The second trail was narrow and had several trees across it. I cleared them and tried to put the snowmobile in reverse it wouldn’t go. I moved the lever back and forth several times without luck. This meant lifting the beast around. I tugged at the skags and inched the rear over until I thought my back would break, and headed back.

Then the snowmobile started making odd sounds. Clinkty, clinkty, clank, and it came to a fast skidding halt. The track wouldn’t move. I got out and looked for any foreign objects stuck in track and found nothing. I pushed and shoved it. It wasn’t going to move. I turned it off and carried my chain saw the half of a mile home. Tired and with little knowledge of snowmobile mechanics. I went home and called the dealer.

“Did you check the track?” He said.

“Yes.” I replied.

“Well it is probably the chain drive.” He stated. “It’s in a sealed unit to the right side of the snowmobile. But once you open it all the oil will come out and you will need more to fill it.”

I hung up the phone and realized my car was seven miles away and I would need it to get parts and oil for the snowmobile.

“I’ll walk out.” Lee said offering to make the seven-mile walk.

“No I’ll go.” I said reluctantly. “I’ve a better chance of making it before dark.”

Walking out of here is no small task. It’s not a leisurely seven-mile walk. It is an up and down mountain walk in snow. I put on my best hiking shoes and a backpack filled with water, extra snow clothes and the mail to go out. I left at 1:45 pm.

Snowmobiles roared past me constantly. At 3:15 pm I was close to the top of the first mountain. I’d only gone two and a half miles. I still had five and a half to go and it would be dark by 5 pm. If one of these snowmobilers slows down, I’m going to hitch a ride. No sooner had I finished that thought then one did slow down and I asked him to drive me out to the road. I’d been dressed for walking not riding a snowmobile. I didn’t have a helmet and wore light hiking clothes.

I got on the back of this machine and we were off. I soon realized I had chosen the ride from hell. I am a conservative snowmobile driver. The fastest I ride a snowmobile on these roads was 25 mph, which is the car speed limit, and for good reason. The roads are winding narrow, icy, steep, and dangerous. The trees became a blur and I struggled between hiding my face behind the driver to avoid the wind chill or looking so I could anticipate my death. The man leaned through every curve and my fingers clawed his jacket. I saw two logging trucks and thought we were dead. Somehow he stopped the sled in time. I took this opportunity to voice my opinions to the driver.

“You’re scaring the life out of me.” I told him hoping he would adjust his speed. He did. Faster. It took less than ten minutes to go five and a half miles, and it seemed like the roller coaster ride from hell to me.

The green sign proclaimed my freedom at the end of the forest. Stiff with fear and cold, I exited the death machine. “Thanks for the ride,” I said shaking “and sparing me my life.” He smiled, turned around and sped off. I hopped into the car and warmed up with the heaters. Lessons three and four: Snowmobiles break. Use caution accepting rides from unknown snowmobilers.

After fixing the snowmobile, I went for a long time without incident, riding the regular fourteen-mile round trip to get mail and supplies. It was a long winter with lots of snow and I got to walk two more times before the end of it.

The first time I crossed over a drifted area while turning, the outside ski sunk and the snowmobile flipped on top of me. Although unhurt, I could not right the snowmobile myself and walked home. By now the sight of me walking to the cabin had Lee dressing and asking me how far the snowmobile was this time.

Our last walk was the longest one-mile carrying a come-a-long and enough cable to pull the snowmobile out of deep wet snow. During my first year snowmobiling I had been stuck five times. I am hoping for some redemption this year.

Note: I have continued to improve over the last 5 years and have made fewer and fewer mistakes. I don't take ride from strangers! Guess my mom was right!



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