transit forge journal: snowmoblundering

snowmoblundering

now in my third year working at the resort, i have had little experience riding snowmobiles, and rarely reason to zip about the mountain astraddle one of the many ski-doo sleds sitting idle in a garage bay.

the other night i was put to task welding up tow hooks for the various sleds and when it came time to mount them, i found a good reason to ride a short loop before and after installing a sturdy, freshly-painted towing hook.
the first sled-ride was without incident, taking a leisurely zip up and down a mellow trail then parking it and grabbing another.

after installing the second hook, i zipped away, pretty closely following my last test-ride loop though with somewhat more gusto. the main problem was that the bright beam of the headlight only allowed clear vision about 20 feet in front of the sled. clipping along at a substantial pace i took a wide line on my previous path so as to, in my mental map, take a faster and less sharp turn onto the next trail. unfortunately, i saw the line of snow guns and their rusty red frames too late. putting the sled into a hard left turn and accompanying perpendicular slide i hoped for the best. when i careened into the frames and was tangled in the long lines of air and water hoses the snowmobile dumped to its side and ejected me about three feet in the air and fifteen feet past the train of snowguns. i landed with a heavy thud and a short slide on the packed snow directly on my right shoulder.

quickly i proceeded to make sure the sled was undamaged (which it was except for a fiberglass safety flag), flip it upright, straighten the scattered snowgun frames and hoses and drive back to the bay to park the machine. i was pretty damn lucky with only a sore shoulder to bemoan.

upon taking the third sled, i was unknowingly persued by my supervisor who was walking to his truck to drive home. he spotted the snowmobile speedily taking off, called to the groomers to make sure nobody was on a sled, then gave chase to the “stolen” sled. on his run to grab his own machine, he fell in a wet hole, dropped his cell phone and forgot to put on a helmet.
i had taken a lazily looping pass around one of the base area flats and when he (in hot pursuit) followed my tracks which took a very odd direction, he recalled that i was working late and in his wet and irritated state yelled
“god-damn-gehner!”

2003-03-09 16:17

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Praise be, I thought your mousing finger had been frostbitten and turned black, or that you got some of that Vermont Surup in your keyboard... **A NEW BLOG!!!!*******
— sisawat Mar 10, 10:19 PM #
Clearly you are in need of my sedate lifestyle, where movement of any sort would cause the regression of a beautiful growing paunch. Hours on end in front of an illuminated plastic box, clicking hard plastic keys, also decreases the possibility of exertion of any kind. This is America, couch-potato nation. Stop trying so hard, or you'll wind up breaking a sweat.
— Tor Mescaline Mar 12, 11:25 AM #
That last comment from your supervisor sounded vaguely akin to a Ron Ryan sentiment. Glad to hear you're still wreaking havoc. I hope your recreational hours are half as exciting as your work. I was gonna get the hunch out of my back at a new skatepark I found alas, rainy season finds San Diego this weekend. Those little 3 foot tall bastards just ridicule me anyway with their anti-gravity tactics and fearless elastic joint techniques. Less Fearlessness >= Fewer Falls <= Not Quite As Much Fun.
— jmmygoggle Mar 17, 03:49 AM #