civilized ku # 874-76 ~ dashing through the snow

Snowmobiles ~ Gabriels, NY (or there about) - in the Adirondack PARK • click to embiggen
Snowmobiles / Power lines
~ Gabriels, NY (or there about) - in the Adirondack PARK • click to embiggen
Snowmobiles / in the trees
~ Gabriels, NY (or there about) - in the Adirondack PARK • click to embiggenFor the first 60+ years of my life, I have managed, with no great effort involved, to avoid going for a snowmobile ride. That's quite simply because my preferred choice of snow-based travel, off-road wise, are those of human-powered methodology - snowshoeing, x-country skiing, and good 'ole feets-do-yo-stuff locomotion.

There are reasons aplenty why I prefer feet-based off-road snow travel. Most prominent among those reasons is the fact that one of the features I most enjoy about feet-powered snow travel is the otherworldly quiet of the forest / wilderness during the winter. To my ears and sensibilities, that quietness is a very transformative sensation, one that makes winter wilderness excursions decidedly different from summer experiences.

Sure, there's also the very enjoyable and challenging matter of, say, a 100˚ difference in temperature: 80˚F on a pleasant summer's day vs -20˚F on what I consider to be a fun winter's day. But, when all is said and done, it's that wonderful and otherworldly winter/snowy quiet that really rings my bell and, I might add, my chimes.

That said, and leaving aside entirely the questionable nature of petroleum-based recreational activities, snowmobiling - riding one or being near one - is a less than quiet-enhancing experience. Even with the introduction of 4-stroke machines, which are quantum leaps better, noise and odor wise, than their 2-stroke brethren, snowmobiling still does not qualify as a quiet pastime. That's especially so when you're perch on top of one.

Nevertheless, I recently found myself piloting one of these nervous-nelly 2-stroke variety screaming-meemie (read - twitchy and loud) machines. The purpose, conflict of self-interest wise, was for me to make some pictures that will help a friend promote his guided snowmobile touring business. So, off we went, with a client family from Philadelphia, for a 3 hour tour of some very nice and scenic winter Adirondack countryside.

True be told, I took to it, riding technique wise, like a duck to water, primarily because there are a number of similarities between horsing around one of these machines and doing so on my (note to the wife: no comments from the peanut gallery please) screaming yellow zonker (note to Aaron - this summer, the 4 years are up). However, enjoyment wise, it was a different story.

My friend and I spent most of our time flying (45-50mph) ahead of the family (and the other guide) in order to get to some photogenic locations and get ready for picture making. That said, as I discovered, it really takes a lot of concentration and no small measure of physical effort to keep a fast moving snowmobile on the straight and narrow, not to mention the twisty bits*. Assuming one can meet the challenge, it's the speed thrill (one to which I am not entirely immune), not enjoying the scenery, that is the main attraction in fast-paced snowmobiling.

That is not to say that, at a few stopping points along the way on the trails, fields, and meadows we traveled, there is not some spectacular scenery to be seen and enjoyed. Unfortunately, on this particular day, the wonderful High Peaks vistas were totally obscured by the snowy and foggy overcast. Despite that fact, the Philly family did seem to have a good time.

But, that said, I can confidently state that, a run or 2 with Hugo aside, there will mostly likely be as much snowmobiling in my future as there has been in my past.

*not unlike x-country skis, the front skis/runners on a snowmobile want to follow ski/runner tracks in the snow. The non-turning rear belt that drives the machine only want to go forward. Therefore, at speed, on all but the most perfectly groomed and virgin trails, there is a rather constant and utterly discordant disconnect between the front and rear of the machine that results in a very twitchy forward motion - the front end / steering feels very "loose". It's up to the driver to maintain a light touch on the hand grips, avoid the impulse to over correct the twitchy-ness, and trust that, ultimately, the machine will go in the general, if not precise, direction in which it is pointed.

Add to that fun factor, the other characteristic that snowmobiles, at speed, do not turn, per se - it's that non-turning-only-go-forward rear driving belt at work again. Snowmobiles, at speed, can only power slide/drift through turns. That characteristic requires the driver to literally hang out off the machine (to the inside of the turn) and apply throttle to set up a (hopefully) controlled power slide/drift in order to negotiate a curve/turn, and, the sharper the turn, the more throttle / hang / drift required.

Admittedly, done properly, this can be fun. It's a classic "be-one-with-the-machine" - both mentally and physically - endeavor in action. But, as mentioned, with all this attention and physical effort devoted to driving detail, you can forget all about enjoying the scenery.

Comments

[aaron]

whenever you want to hand over the keys, I'll take him for a ride.