This year things were going to be different. I had sold the shitty trailer that had given John and I so much trouble. We decided also that we would not arrive at Larry’s house so early, figuring that their estimation of arrival at 6:00, was optimistic. We arrived there at 7:00, not to our surprise, Larry, A.J. nor Joe were there. Eventually, around 8:00 everyone had arrived and we were off. We made it to the outskirts of town when A.J.’s new "bargain" tires began to predict the rest of the weekend. Yes, one of the rear tires was starting to lose air. A.J. bought a can of "fix-a-flat" and used it on the tire. When he had finished It looked as though someone had splooged all over the bottom half of the tire. Then as an added insult, the pay-for-air pump would not work. We then ventured to Perrysburg where we stopped to find a working air pump. Once the tire was full, we all took a deep breath and relaxed for the uneventful vacation that lies before us! As we headed south on I-75 we picked up Route 23 north, about this same time John and I smelled burning rubber. We noticed also a peculiar fog only present behind A.J.’s truck and trailer, we knew all to well about Joe’s peculiar fog, but decided that the vehicle was at fault, again the trip was postponed. This time, one of the trailer tires was rubbing the underside of the trailer. We quickly decided that there was too much weight upon the trailer, emptied A.J.’s truck and placed the spare Yamaha in the back. I thought to myself "What a foolish idea, bringing a spare sled anyways!". Once the sleds were safely stowed, we checked the wheel to trailer clearance, it still was not very much. So we moved the other sled over to the left as far as we could, it seemed to even the trailer out. Again, we were on our way, occasionally we smelled smoke...

Well, all things considered and compared to the year before, the trip up still went without a "hitch" so to speak. We dragged our groceries and clothing into the cabin and called dibs on the accommodations. We began to drink, tell stories and jokes, laugh and fart, Ahh-Yes... the vacation had begun. We hunkered down early that first night, about 4:00am if I remember correctly, so that we could arise early for sledding,.

Well O.K. so our definition of early is different than others! After John cooked a delicious and hearty meal of pancakes and hash browns, we waddled off to the trailers to dismount the sleds. We made a few warm up laps around the cabin, then we were off like a prom dress! Our first stop was Vienna Corners, to fuel up for the ride into Gaylord, where we were to do some shopping. Down the roads we went, until we found the trail to Gaylord, we made about 12 miles before lady luck reared her ugly head. While dashing through the snow, on his one horse open sleigh, A.J. ripped off his heat exchanger. About 3 miles onto the trail, the one-red-eyed dashboard gave A.J. the no-go on his coolant temp. We flipped the sled over to find the missing digit. John and I decided to ride back to get the parts to patch the sled back together, while A.J., Larry and Joe did their best to polish off the Black Berry Brandy. We first rode to Joannasburg, where we found no parts available, we then rode to Vienna, then auto parts store did not have a heater hose repair kit, neither did the hardware store or the local gas station. We finally settled for a couple of pipe nipples and hose clamps from the hardware store. Next we rode back to the cabin to grab tools and anti-freeze. We packed sleds with the loot, and headed back to the "marooned crew". We found that the magic berry juice had taken it’s toll, the brandy was gone, along with Larry and Joe’s marbles. After a couple of repair configurations we finally had the sled trail-worthy. We then headed out for Gaylord. About 5 miles later the coolant light illuminated again. Joe had to ride back and retrieve the well hidden bottle of anti-freeze. From then on every 5-10 miles we had to stop to pour more fluid in. I also noticed a small vibration coming from my sled, probably just ice build-up. I went ahead and changed the belt just in case... it didn’t go away.

We eventually made it to Gaylord, we decided to stop and eat at Mama Leones - left a note on the door that said "sonny move out to the country". We found a very warm welcome for snowmobilers, "Put your shit on the floor, or take your business elsewhere". A.J. told the waitress that he was paying for John and Scott’s meals, in return for our help on his sled. We ate and drank, I did notice that John had his usual water with his meal and he carefully selected the cheapest meal on the menu, I wondered if he knew, or if he was just being nice. I noticed the disappointment on his face when the bill was paid, so he probably didn’t know. We left the restaurant ready for a long nights ride from bar to bar. We rode about 3 miles and had just entered onto a "semi-frozen" lake when the vibration on my sled began to sound a lot like drive sprocket ratcheting. I quickly stopped and tightened the track, mounted the sled and took off again. While John, Joe and I were stopped, Larry and A.J. kept on truckin’, till they were out of site in fact. The sled wasn’t any better, we made it about another 100 yards when a terrible ripping sound came forth from the sled. The sled stopped so fast I almost went over the handlebars! I opened the hood and found that the jack-shaft had broken. We decided that John would tow the sled off of the "semi-frozen" lake. John hitched up the tow strap to my sled and Joe and I pushed the sled to give John a running start. Slowly but steadily the tow truck and it’s prize moved away. I held by breath when John was crossing the slushy parts of the lake. Visions of the recent release of Titanic raced through my head. But, the trip was successful, he dropped of the sled and returned to tell the tale. Now Joe was going to ride me back to the sled over those same spots. We felt the back end of the sled dive deep into the slush, but we made it also. Joe then rode me hard all the way back to the Polaris dealer. There I bought a replacement jack-shaft and we gawked at the hot little counter help. I decided to walk back to the sled, which was 5 miles away, for something to do while John and Joe went back to the cabin to retrieve the truck and trailer. It was the longest walk of my life, drudging through snow with a helmet and my jack-shaft in my hand. You wouldn’t believe it, probably close to 500 sleds passed me, carrying my helmet, only one stopped to ask if I needed a ride. But I thought I was almost there, so I declined. However, a half an hour later I still had not found the broken mule. But I did see Larry and A.J. go blasting by about 20 yards away. I yelled and whistled but they were very focused, I think they were looking for someone. I eventually hitched a ride with a stoned pickup driver who took me 2 miles further down the rode, we then quickly found the sled! I was surprised John and Joe weren’t back yet, I know that they would have been hurrying! I laid down on the sled and fell asleep. About an hour later John and Joe showed up. We trailered the sled back to the cabin, we still had not made contact with Larry and A.J. since they left us for dead on the lake. We waited for them to call or to show up.

Unaware that we had broken down, Larry and A.J. kept looking for us, at the bars, and eventually decided to call the authorities. Thinking that we had possibly tried to cross the lake, which we found out later was not frozen in the middle!! They were about ready to start a search party and decided to call the cabin one last time... alas we answered! Once Larry and A.J. made it back we talked about what had happened and then went to bed.

Had to get up early this morning to replace the jack shaft on my sled. This took till 2pm along with multiple trips to the hardware store. During the repair there was a moment when we could have used a vice, we asked the nice old man that tends the cabin if he could helps us out, but he simply replied "Nope, ya gotta pay to play". The sled was back together, we all suited up and took off to play on the hills and fields around the cabin. We went back to the huge sinkholes that we had enjoyed so much the year before. After john had made a pass or two, I attempted my best/fastest attempt. I seemed to have hit a large "bump" near the bottom then the snow was in the air everywhere. I knew I was a little off course, but I decided the best policy was to stay in the throttle. Once the snow cleared, it was a straight trip to treesville. Luckily everyone was friendly enough to help me dislodge the sled from the overgrown bush. Not until the "photo opportunities" had been taken of course. We then parked and did a few shots. We then made a few rules including any insinuations that anyone else was gay, would result in a shot. John then made another pass, after he had safely made it to the top of the sinkhole I made a pass, roughly in John’s tracks. Needless to say, you need to be into the throttle pretty good to make it up the other side. I came flying out of the hole and was surprised to be staring John in the face. John had turned around to make another pass the way he had come. Unfortunately I was there to greet him at 40mph. We "bumped bumpers" then got off the sleds to survey the damage. John got off pretty easy with just scuffed paint, my Storm however had the front bumper bent in. We rode around a bit more, then headed back to the cabin where we suited up for the days riding. John and I went to work straightening my bumper, we would not know until later that these measures were in vain, my sled was doomed and no one knew it.

We geared up and headed out, we hit the gas station in Lewiston and started down the road. We had made about 15 miles when Joe’s sled fouled out and would not start. We fiddle-fucked around the damn thing for quite awhile and I think someone almost lost their face to a small explosion, but we decided the sled had ice in the carbs. Joe happens to be the only tight-ass who put in cheap gas and was now suffering from fueline-freeze-up. I know John was getting frustrated at the number of miles we were not accumulating on this trip, so I suggested that he and Larry go get the supplies to get the sled running again. They left and we waited, it took a long time before they returned and then we heard the story of how they were pulled over by the police for speeding... We fiddle-fucked around some more before we decided that the sled was dead. We decided to tow the unit back to the cabin and get the backup sled. I volunteered to tow the sled back to the cabin. John was leading while I towed Joe on his sled. Somewhere along the line we lost Larry and A.J... We stopped and waited and they eventually caught up. Here they had stopped and hoped to catch right back up, but we were towing the sled at 65mph. Joe mentioned he was a little leery, all he could see was my taillight and the rest was a blizzard. He said "I don’t ride that fast when I’m at the controls". Once we were back at the cabin we unloaded the backup sled and rode down to the local bar and closed it. We then decided to load up with beer and head out to the rolling hills where we enjoyed a few good stories about times past. We found the snow to be about 1-1/2 deep and an absolute blast to ride through, not on. We rode for a couple of hours and enjoyed fine company, beer, stories and other things. We then rode around again for a bit.

We should have headed back to the cabin and put a good end to the night for once. Joe’s backup sled shit the bed. John and I decided to ride back to the cabin and get the towrope, the one that John had forgotten to bring. So we raced back to the cabin, we were riding on a road aptly named Winding Road, do you see where I’m going with this? I decided in my stupor to pass John, I was doing about 85mph. After passing John, the smart thing to do would be SLOW DOWN. But hey you only live 9 lives. The road was not only winding but very hilly also. I went over three successive hills, first slight turn, second slight turn, when I crested the third, my headlight came down to bear on an immediate right turn. I had enough time to take a breath. I went up into the air and off the side of the road into the trees. I flew off, or was thrown off the sled and I heard the sled crunch against a tree or two. I remember flying, arms and legs flailing. I was thinking to myself "get on the ground, get on the ground, you’ll be safe when you are on the ground". That’s when my hip hit a tree about 3" in diameter. At the same time my shin hit a tree 12" in diameter. I was still 3-7 feet off the ground we estimated. I heard the crunch and was spun so fast I lost both gloves and a boot. I laid there for a moment knowing John would pull up soon. I could hear my sled still idling. My helmet was filled with snow. I started to crawl out of the trees, all I could think about is that I had crushed my hip against a tree, my whole left leg felt funny, painful and was tingling. Once I got my helmet off I did not see John anywhere and wondered if he had suffered the same fate. The sled was in bad shape, but I moved the skis so they were aiming in the same direction and moved the sled back onto Winding Road. About 5 minutes later Larry, A.J. and Joe were riding down the road. They had made a make shift towrope. I told them what happened, we looked around for John but we did not see any other tracks leading off of the road. Then A.J. and Joe went on back to the cabin to drop off Joe’s sled while Larry waited with me. A.J. and John returned a bit later. I was just far enough ahead of John that he went right on by me just after I went into the trees. We towed the sled back to the cabin then, I assessed the damage to my leg, I think I started to go into shock and laid down, after a bit I felt better. Apparently I had broken the tree with my hip, causing no injury to me, but my shin was not so lucky. The tree it had hit did not waver, but I would find out later that it was not broken.