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5. The dudes are more high-maintenance than you would imagine. I say dudes because most snowmobilers are in fact dudes, but really it applies across the board. Check this out. People spend $600 to put pretty stickers on their sleds and often include the logos of companies that don’t even pay them or give them free stuff to do it. And another $600 so they can have a lunch box and turn the engine into a microwave. Crazy, huh?
6. Sleds are only loud to the people who aren’t on them. When you hear a snowmobile while skiing or snowshoeing you say to yourself, “Gosh that’s loud.” When you hear another snowmobile while unloading yours from the trailer, you say to yourself, “Gosh that sounds fun!”
Disclaimer: At no point in my past hippie life have I ever condoned snowshoeing. Given that science has demonstrated the ability to slide on snow, one should never again return to the laborious effort of walking in it.
7. Snowmobilers are good people. Despite the posturing, pub tables crowded with way too many dudes and faint smell of 2-stroke, sledders are phenomenal people. They are quick to offer riding tips, maintenance advice and words of encouragement. Whether I was in an all-women’s clinic or the only girl in a group of 16 dudes, I was amazed by the inclusive and supportive environment of snowmobiling. Hey snowmobilers, I see your tough guy bluffs and call you out on your kindness. Thank you.
8. When it’s good, it’s real good. OK, this is actually the hardest part to explain and the whole reason for the commotion and dollars put into the sport. The feeling of riding a snowmobile in bottomless powder is insanely awesome. It goes something like this: apply throttle … watch the snow pour over the hood of your sled and instinctively start smiling … feel the feather light snow pummel your body in a blanket of bliss … continue to apply throttle … giggle like a schoolgirl … use your brake hand to wipe the snow off your goggles so you can see … continue to apply throttle for the next eight hours or until you run out of gas … get to the truck and realize you were having too much fun to eat, drink or take photos the entire day (said no trail hiker* ever).