7881-R1_MSA_Feb2022_MaineSnowmobiler

My Rookie Snowmobile Club Year By Mike Remillard

So, we are limping home in the Blazer and Kenny was behind us in the #3 snowmobile, pulling one drag. We left the broken snowmobile and one drag, covered with red trail marker tape, in the woods. Now, the Blazer transmission is overheating. So, every three miles or so we had to stop for a break. As we moved on we got to a huge hill that soon slowed us down to near stopping. All of a sudden, 4WD kicked in and we made it over the top. John looked behind us and Kenny is right on our bumper waving his hands like crazy. So, we stop to see what’s wrong. Kenny was covered in snow and looked like a snowman with a red face. He had pushed us over the hill with the #3 snowmobile and drag. 4WD never kicked in like we thought. Then, we noticed the metal bumper protecting the snowmobile hood, road up and over the trailer hitch ball and the ball got stuck between the snowmobile bumper and hood. We had to stand on the Blazer, trying to weigh it down and lift the snowmobile at the same time to get it unhooked. We got it free and off we went over four more tall hills with Kenny pushing us over the top of each. We met one snowmobiler coming head on. We were not stopping so I motioned with my hands to, “Get out of the way!” It was the old club cook. She probably thinks we hate her and tried to kill her. With luck, we made it back to the clubhouse. Now, most of our equipment is basically broken, or in the woods. After a few minutes, John came up with another rescue idea. Tomorrow, we will hook up his old flat bottom Johnboat, go in the woods and put the broken snowmobile on it and drag it home. Rescuing a snowmobile with a motorboat, would have been a good story. It just wasn’t meant to be. Today, John and I took a coffee break at the Pine Tree Store and in came Warren. I told him our problem and he suggested we borrow his firewood toboggan. Warren grabbed his Chihuahua dog named Killer and we all hopped in John’s pickup truck. I had my hatchet, in case the toboggan was frozen to the ground. I wasn’t sure of the plan, but the only question I had was, “Has Killer had lunch”? Remarkably, things started going our way. We picked up the toboggan and were ready to go. The plan is to take John’s snowmobile with a hitch, the #3 club snowmobile driven by Kenny, and my Tundra, Old Yella. We now have more food, tools and equipment than they used on D-Day. John took the lead, pulling the toboggan. Kenny was next, pulling Plan B, a sheet of metal roofing, bouncing off the trail and flapping in the wind. I was in drag, picking up gloves, straps, and an occasional frozen donut. It was a great ride through the woods on the trails John and I groomed days before. We rode through hardwood forests, open spaces and evergreen forests where the trails turned into green tun- nels. Sometimes I’d fall behind on purpose, so I could race to the rear of the pack, with Old Yella fishtailing at times. Way too soon, we were at the Horseback Trail broken equipment site. We put the toboggan beside the broken snowmobile. We took along a High Lift Jack and lifted one end of the snowmobile. We then pushed the jack over and that end of the snowmobile dropped on the toboggan. We did the same to the other end of the snowmobile and then using a little muscle, we positioned the snowmobile and tied it down. Then, we hooked up the drag to John’s snowmobile and lined up all three rigs. We rested and took a coffee break. The menu is getting better. This time we had russet chips and egg salad sandwiches. We all had sto- ries, but Kenny has worked in the woods for 60 years and repeatedly out storied us. Off we went. Kenny’s toboggan and snowmobile tow was con- stantly fishtailing. The unused sheet metal roof, hooked up to the rear, was flapping in the wind. When we got to ITS 84, we took another fun break. When done, we all headed for our snowmobiles to fire them up. I heard Kenny repeat- edly pulling and pulling the rope start and then loud laughter. I turned around and by mistake he was trying to pull start the snowmobile that was broken down on the toboggan. A mile or two down the road, what we all feared happened. Kenny’s sled started to pull easier so he looked back and saw the toboggan and broken snowmobile trying to pass him. The hitch had broken. It was a good thing the trail was turning, and off into the snow went Kenny’s tow. We had a couple of Plan B’s, rigged up another hitch and off we went. One more food, drink and story break and we were at the Grand Lake SnoMo Club Cafe. I have fun hanging out with this snowmobile club. I don’t know which one of us is jinxed. It doesn’t matter to me. I’ll hang out with these guys anytime.

T oday, I got a phone call from John, our Trail Master and a Master Guide. He wanted me to groom snowmobile trails with him. We met at the Grand Lake SnoMo Club Café. John had his usual, two red hot dogs and coffee. I usually try the special. Today it was homemade chicken veggie soup and wheat bread with coffee. What a way to go. We gassed up two club snowmobiles and hooked up a drag to the back of each. Off we went. The snowmobiles were working hard, pull- ing the drag and collected snow. The trails were grooming nice and flat. We saw deer tracks, moose tracks, all kinds of critter tracks. Once we got deep into the woods, we came across penguin tracks. Then, on the Horseback Trail, my snowmobile started making extra noise & slowing down. I gave it more gas for another mile and sud- denly there was a loud bang, grinding noise and sudden stop. I shut her down & opened the hood. I thought the drive belt broke, but it was fine. John was ahead of me and 20 minutes later, he realized something was wrong, unhooked his drag and came zooming back. He did a test or two and said, “Blown transmission”. He thought for several minutes while smoking a cigarette. John drove the two drags to the side of the trail. We lifted each end of the snowmobile, a little at a time, and worked it over to the side of the trail. I hopped on the storage boxes of John’s snowmobile and we headed back to the garage to get the clubs third snowmobile. The plan was to return and pull everything home. All was going fine. Then, John’s snowmobile started making noise and it suddenly slowed down to half speed. He gave it more gas, but it just didn’t respond. We took a short cut to the logging road and limped home. At the garage, we pulled both spark plugs and one had been dam- aged by the piston. The piston had let go and we were running on one cylinder. The club is now down to one snowmobile for grooming and the Blazer equipped with tracks. After more coffee, we called it a day. The next day, John and I set off in the Blazer. It was like being in a tank with heat, I assume. Kenny, club founder, took the last club snowmobile. Our mission was to rescue the downed #2 club snow- mobile and two drags. By logging roads and snowmobile trails, it took us an hour to reach the break downs. The Blazer could only go 15 MPH max. John and I didn’t need entertainment, because I talked John’s ear off. At one of the snack breaks, John grabbed Kenny’s extra set of ear plugs. We arrived at the broken down equipment and got everything turned around in the right direction. We hooked up the broken snowmobile to the Blazer. We then hooked up one drag to the broken snowmobile. Then, we hooked up the second drag to the #3 snowmobile. After a coffee, Moxie, frozen donut and peanut butter cracker break, off we went. All was running perfect. Then, 1 mile into the tow, the 4WD unit in the Blazer let go. We couldn’t pull the tow in 2WD. Plus, the 1” thick ice sheet that fell a month ago, was under the snow, causing the tracks to spin once they reached it. So, we unhooked the drag. Then, we couldn’t pull the broken snowmobile, so we unhooked it. The worse soon happened. The Blazer couldn’t even get itself out of there. John backed up to the bottom of the hill and gunned it. Off we went.

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