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Minnesota is cold in January. Of the lower 48 states, it's the closest to the North Pole. So, do you stay home and listen to the weathercasters talk about wind chill? Heck no, you pack up your sleds and head to far northern trails.
It's the week after New Year's. We, Steve Ingram and myself, know that the trails will be pretty much left to us. After all, we're going to ride during the week when folks with real jobs are working.
Of course, we're working too. Didn't I have to stop at Waldoch Sports outside St. Paul and pick up a brand new Exciter II SX? Didn't I have to install a special tank bag on the new Pantera that we're taking along? And doesn't Steve have to check out the trails in northern Minnesota so that he can legitimately offer snowmobile tours for his company, North Country Adventures? Hey, this was work!
With the official American Snowmobiler transporter loaded down with sleds and gear, we arrived at our destination by late afternoon. It was 3:30 PM when we pulled into the Trestle Inn parking lot in far-flung Finland (Minnesota). Darkness comes early to the north country, so we wasted little time getting the sleds off the trailer and loaded with gear.
We had a new tank bag installed on the Pantera. The bag, which we purchased (yes, we bought and paid for this item, thank you) at Tousley Sports, ended up being as good as smooth-talking Larry Koch said it would be. The snap-on straps made it readily removable so that you could bring it into the motel room at night. The clear plastic map holder was convenient enough to get you an easy 25-50 miles down the trail before refolding the map and reinserting it. This really depended more on the map size than anything. And the price was fair - twenty-something bucks or so.
Instead of custom-matched touring packs, we split the remainder of our gear into an external framed backpack and old fashioned "Duluth" pack. With gear strapped onto the sleds with the ubiquitous rubber bungee cords, we were underway by 4:00 PM, headed to Ely.
The first third of the 75 mile trip was terrific. The trails were smoothly groomed. Our credit to the hard-working crew who got out after the heavy weekend traffic that regularly inhabits this area.
The second third was a nightmare. It was as though, when the pitch black night hit us, it took us back into a time warp. The trail was a throwback to the early 1970s. Heavy traffic had taken its toll as moguls, dug deep by hundreds of sleds, froze into ice heaves.
In partial defense of the trail grooming crew, we were told that a bridge was being repaired and that the regular grooming rig couldn't get across. We'll buy that. But only to a point because we were also told that different groups had agreed to groom up to the bridge from either side. One side let the other down. However, after about 25-30 miles, the trail came back into nice traveling shape. The closer we got to Ely, the better the trail became.
Like many of you, we decided to truly make this an adventure. We didn't make any reservations. After all, during the week from Tuesday to Friday, you should be pretty much assured that you can find a place. Don't try this technique from Thursday to Sunday though. Make reservations as trail traffic gets heavy along Minnesota's Arrowhead trail network.
And again like you, we wanted to have the freedom to pick and choose our routes. With each fork in the trail, we'd stop, peek at the map and decide which way to go. The first day was Finland to Ely and the Tomahawk Trail was the only main route. That decision was easy.
We made the 75 mile run in about three and a half hours. Not great time, but we weren't trying to break any records either. We were acclimating ourselves to the sleds.
While we truly loved the Yamaha SX, we did conclude that it had some severe drawbacks for this kind of journey. First of all, our test Yamaha had the low, racy windshield. No way. Always opt for more coverage. Our hands, despite hand warmers, got icy cold because the fairing and windscreen inadequately deflected the wind away from them. The same was true of our knees for the same reasons. And, as we would find out the next morning, the higher performance SX engine was an absolute bear to start. When this engine sat out overnight, it became downright ornery and one of the stiffest pulling mothers we've encountered in quite awhile. But, hey, Yamaha doesn't make this sled anymore, so what does it matter? Besides, on the trail, with a degree of warmth in your body, this sled was truly one of the most enjoyable sports sleds we've ever ridden. Once we got it started for the day and got our bods warmed up with a little extra body language, the SX was terrific. In fact, I hated to give this sled up.
The same could be said of the Pantera but for different reasons. This is a "trick" touring machine. There isn't anything important - and little else for that matter - that doesn't come as standard equipment. Get beyond the electric start, reverse, and plush seating. There is a well-contoured windshield that does protect you. There is a very smooth, fuel-injected engine that proved to be easy starting - even when the battery went flat in -50 degree weather one night. And the gimmicky fiberglass overload spring, we discovered, does exactly what Cat's people say it does. Being the chunky one and carrying the gear, I engaged the overload spring after finding the sled bottomed in moderately poor conditions. The adjustment took care of the problem on all but the awful stretch we've already discussed.
As with the Yamaha, real world use as opposed to controlled photo session usage showed us a couple of things that disappointed us on the Cat. One, if you have to drop the panel to pull maintenance on the brake side, keep an air of calm. It is inconvenient and irritating to reach the retaining screws. We'd prefer a quick drop panel.
Second, you may have to reach the brake with some frequency because our Pantera lost its brakes with much too much frequency. In one instance, we - okay it was me - overshot a turn because we had used up the brake. Scooting up the escape route, I felt foolish. But, with reverse, I quickly changed direction and was literally back on track.
I'll just say that as impressed as I am with the disc brake on the ZR models, I'm as unimpressed with the mechanical brake on the Pantera. Unfortunately, I've also had other Cats for the winter and found the mechanical brake lacking with them. Part of the problem - and this may be purely subjective - is that the brake handle is about as short as the throttle trigger. So you don't get much mechanical advantage anyway.
Well, enough about that. Both sleds, overall, were extremely fun to take on this outing. We're merely nit-picking like all American snowmobilers tend to do.
With intact sleds but tired human bodies, we arrived in the Ely area. I wasn't expecting what I found. Just outside of town is a huge map of the town, its approved snowmobile routes, and local information. Excellent job Ely! Take a bow.
It was night. We were tired and hungry. We headed for what sounded like a good spot. Well, the Silver Rapids Lodge on the outskirts of Ely served our purposes well enough. We took the motel suite, which set our travel budget back $65 for the night. After traveling together for many years, we've learned that separate but equal rooms work well for us. It has something to do with loud, raucous night time noises emanating from the vocal cords.
Dinner was a couple of microwave pizzas. We were told the kitchen had just closed. From the cleanliness of it and lack of food odors, we doubt that it had seen any action during the day or early evening.
It had been a good day despite the awful section of trail. That section of trail was the worst we encountered. And, in fact, later on, we were to encounter one of the best stretches of snowmobile trail that we had ever been on - anywhere! We liked it so well, we ran it four times! It was great, but more on that later.
Day two dawned as one of those brutally crisp and clear 0 to 10 degrees above zero days. We were out of the lodge by 9:00 AM, just in time to venture into downtown Ely, gas up and scoot over to Britton's for breakfast. Great home fries at Britton's. They're made like home fries used to be made before Ore-Ida convinced everyone in the restaurant biz that flash frozen potato slivers were the way hash browns were meant to be made. Britton's. In Ely. The place to go when you hit town.
It was time for a hard decision. How ambitious were we? As it turned out, not overly so. We headed for the Taconite Trail, skis pointed toward Grand Rapids.
Oddly enough, all the way into Ely, we never even thought about the obvious encounter. Ely is a transplant center for timber wolves. This experiment is one of those "endangered species" rehabilitation deals that is extremely successful. It never occurred to us that we'd see a wolf.
Fortunately, our sleds ran well and we didn't have any close encounters. Until the second day out. At breakfast - Britton's, remember? - Steve and I couldn't help but tune in to the fact that Ely is the wolf pack place. We commented on how we hadn't even thought about it until we saw the posters and information around Ely. We, well, me...I was glad we hadn't seen any.
Quite awhile after leaving town, I was riding point on the Cat when I scooted around a turn and was looking at the lean haunches of a big gray timber wolf. And I don't mean Christian Laettner!
The Cat brakes went hot as I pulled up, signaled Steve and then started up again. Heading aways down the trail, I half expected to run upon a pack of wolves, fangs bared, starving eyes checking out my cholesterol-racked body. Nothing. The wolf was gone. Obviously, I had read too many wolf-eats-Little Red Riding Hood stories in my childhood.
By the time we hit the junction where you can choose between continuing on to Grand Rapids or breaking off at Denny's Spur, we had enough of the Taconite super trail. There wasn't anything wrong with it. We just wanted a tighter, more adventurous section, and we were trying to sample as much variety as possible.
Following route signs, we found the Oasis, where we stopped for a late lunch and directions to the nearest gas station.
Everything we wanted to know was on the "Iron Trail" regional map we used. But you know how that goes. There are always little jogs that are a little different. The actual trail doesn't always bear out the map. This was one of those.
We ended up following a couple of other snowmobilers to the gas station. Then we were told to cross Sand Lake, look for a split in the trail that wasn't necessarily marked. And when we got there, we'd be out on the Laurentian Trail. This verbal map got us back on track, just as the guy on the old Stratos had said.
This Laurentian Trail will take you south to Virginia, one of the biggest cities on Minnesota's Iron Range. The range is so called because of the taconite mined in the area during the first half of the twentieth century. There's not such a demand for it anymore. That explains why the Iron Range Regional Rehabilitation Board (IRRRB) has been so aggressive in supporting snowmobiling in this part of Minnesota. There are thousands of miles of good to excellent trails in the IRRRB's sphere of political influence. The man responsible for bringing these trails together into a coordinated system, DeLyle Pankrantz, has his headquarters at Giant's Ridge. This is Minnesota's claim to world class winter sports. More than a place for snowmobilers to stop and warm up, Giant's Ridge is a skiing complex - Nordic and downhill - that has been used to train America's Olympic hopefuls. We used it as many snowmobilers would, as a stopping point on our way to Babbitt.
Before we reached Babbitt, we decided to stay over in Virginia. We reached town much quicker than we expected, primarily due to the very good condition of the Laurentian Trail. Since it was early, we pressed on toward Giant's Ridge.
If we thought the first section of the Laurentian Trail was great, what would we call the section that runs between the Virginia Spur Trail and Giant's Ridge? Excellent! The 24-hour period in which we rode this section of trail was good enough to have us both call it the best piece of trail we had ever ridden! Anywhere.
The surface was smoother than an interstate highway and it was nearly as wide through a section of fast, sweeping turns. If a person wanted to exceed Minnesota's 50 mph mandated snowmobile speed limit, he could run a Pantera wide open through one particular series of straight-aways and sweepers. We elected to experience the view, of course.
This trail into Giant's Ridge was extremely well marked. One wide sweeping turn seemed as though it had been marked for Thundercat riders only. The normal "curve ahead" warnings were set so far away from the turn that the only way to read them and not forget them was if you were full throttle on a muscle sled.
This must be a popular trail with snowmobilers. There's a wonderful warming shelter with toilet facility and fireplace. It is a very enjoyable and family-oriented section of trail.
Ostensibly, we went to Giant's Ridge to see DeLyle, but he was gone for the day. Another tough decision came up. Should we head back to Virginia over this absolutely wonderful trail, or press on towards Babbitt on an unknown trail? The great trail won out.
As great as the Laurentian Trail had been, getting from trail's end into our Virginia motel was awful. We hit the Iron Range city at dusk, during "rush hour." Granted it isn't Manhattan, but when you're on sleds, it might just as well be.
The Virginia spur just ends near a gas station. The map shows the little dots that denote motels as being conveniently on the trail system. We beg to differ. If you are a native and know the area, we don't doubt the convenience. If you are a touring snowmobiler relying on a map and have never seen this part of the Iron Range before, you're in trouble.
The girl at the gas station was hopeless, having only slightly more knowledge of her cash register than the trail system.
We pressed on, following what seemed to be trails here and there, crossing busy intersections, and finally arriving at our destination. The secret, we discovered, is the railroad track. And waiting about 10 to 15 minutes for the rush hour traffic to almost totally dissolve into an occasional car at a traffic light.
We made it in one piece to the Voyager North Motel where we took a large room for $45. This place caters to truckers, so you should expect to hear the muted thrashing of diesel engines during the night. Just across the parking lot is the Sawmill, where we sampled ribs and chicken and a couple of post-ride brews.
We ended with about 120 miles on the day, a run in with a timber wolf, an adventure in Virginia, and great trails to talk about. And, we still had a day or two left.
Day three was cold even for a native Minnesotan. The thermometer at the motel registered 50 degrees below zero. The outlook was for sunshine and single digit temperatures hovering plus or minus around zero.
Keep in mind that where we were riding is historically home to record-setting cold temps. The village of Embarrass, which regularly makes the nation's weather casts for low temperatures, would be our nearby lunch stop. We were in the cold belt. What do you expect? You dress for it. Keep that bare skin covered. Check for signs of frostbite. What's a -50 degrees among friends?
We found a gas station and had the privilege of paying $4.29 a quart for Yamalube oil. We found other places where it was much less expensive. Obviously, some places like to take advantage of snowmobile traffic more than others.
Zipping along the trail to Giant's Ridge for the final time, we stopped in for coffee. I still think about that trail. That must be how heaven is for a snowmobiler.
Embarrass, like many of the Iron Range cities, is on a regular section of trail. This one, the Iron Ore Trail, splits off from the Taconite Spur Trail. To reach our chosen lunch stop, we cut through a primitive backwoods trail to reach the so-called "4 Corners" and its cafe.
The rest of the day we poked along the secondary trails - like the Putnam Lake Trail and Fishing Lake Trail - on our eventual way into Babbitt.
Frankly, I wanted to prolong our arrival. Babbitt didn't seem to be a great place for snowmobiling. What was there to do in a small place like Babbitt? So, we shot over to Bear Island Lake and the Bear Island resort. The owner's daughter had appeared in Polaris ads. He's a talkative chap, this Mike Rice. Looking out his restaurant's window, we noticed that the scene reminded us of an advertising shot we'd seen in an ad for another city a bit further north. Mike said we were right. The guy who put the ad together had used a shot of sledders from Bear Island Lake to illustrate a shot of Grand Marais or some such place. At least it wasn't a shot of the Colorado Rockies being used to illustrate a Nebraska location.
When we finished talking with Mike and paying $22 for our two quarts of oil and five gallons of gas, it was dark. Moonlight helped guide us into Babbitt.
We selected the Red Carpet Motel. It's an older motel, but very clean and well cared for. Owners Elwin and Marvel Klimek proved extremely cordial, suggesting places to visit for food and beverage. They advised us to watch our speed and take it very easy when traveling the streets in town. Local law enforcement is very speed sensitive and takes the 10 mph limit seriously.
With all our exploring, a late start and stopping to visit along the way, we added only 83 miles to our sleds' odometers.
I dreaded reaching Babbitt, but Babbitt would turn out to be the most fun place along the way. We started with dinner at the Foreign Legion, a hybrid VFW and American Legion post. These folks had never laid eyes on us before but treated us like we were old time residents come back home. I couldn't get over how cordial the folks in Babbitt were to us. It was like turning back the clock and reliving the '50s when you could leave your house unlocked because your neighbor would watch out for you.
We had a great time in Babbitt, visiting three or four establishments during the evening, talking with the locals, getting a fix on how Babbitt is trying to attract more tourists, especially winter time ones. Our suggestion, try Babbitt. Call the Klimeks at the Red Carpet Motel (218-827-3152) for conditions and suggestions about trails. And base your stay out of Babbitt.
The final day dawned bright and sunny. As we loaded the sleds, Steve pulled a "Tom Sawyer." He got to talking with a fellow at the motel about how hard starting the Yamaha was. The guy said something like, "Yeah, I know. My Phazer can be a real hard starter too."
Steve says, "Maybe, but I bet it doesn't pull as hard as this new Exciter SX. Why don't you give it a tug?"
Would you like to whitewash my fence, Steve?
Anyway, the burly guy with the weight lifter arms muckles on to the Yamaha's starter rope. One pull. Two pulls. Three pulls. Four pulls. Five pulls in rapid succession didn't do the truck. He says, "Yeah, you're right," and walks away.
In the meantime, Steve has gotten the guy to do the hard part, initially pulling the engine over to work it loose. A couple of pulls and Steve has the SX idling. I twist the Pantera' key.
It's Friday morning. We intend to make the Trestle Inn by early afternoon so that we can get off the trails before the weekend madness starts. Some resort owners talked about some guys from the metropolitan Minneapolis area calling themselves the "Crash & Burn" racing team. The sport doesn't need people like this who are said to score points by how many snowmobilers they run off the trails. In northern Minnesota, noon Friday to noon Monday can be considered a heavy-use period. Families, clubs and lots of relative novices are out enjoying the trails.
Enough on the lecture. I mention it because as we headed back to the Trestle Inn, our starting point near Finland, we began encountering more sleds in the space of three hours than we saw all week.
We ended our trip before 2:00 PM. After loading our sleds, we stopped into the Trestle Inn to thank the manager for letting us store our rig in their parking lot while we ventured off north and east.
By many touring standards, our trip was a modest one. We finished up with a little over 400 miles. The Yamaha averaged between 13.4 and 14.9 miles per gallon. The Pantera averaged 11.9 to 13.8 mpg.
If you're looking for a place to ride this winter, head to northern Minnesota. Let me assure you that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of miles that we never even touched. In the past, I will admit to being very pro-Wisconsin trails. This independent trip to Minnesota's Iron Range proved to me that Minnesota has trails equal to, if not better, than any in the world. At least the world I've snowmobiled in. And that includes a couple of continents and a few countries.
Visit the Trestle Inn, enjoy Ely. Try Babbitt too. We give it our American Snowmobiler seal of approval.