Following a Frozen Trail

Paul Rickert, operations manager of Northern Outdoors, and me, Roberta Scruggs, staff writer for the Portland Press Herald, were part of an intrepid band that embarked on an 83-mile snowmobile excursion from the Forks to Sugarloaf on January 23. Also along for the ride were Governor Angus King; Dann Lewis, director of the state tourism office; Scott Ramsey, head of the conservation department's snowmobile division; several members of the Maine Snowmobile Association; and other folks from Northern Outdoors, an adventure resort at the forks.

The trek was born during a year of daydreaming by Bob Meyers, executive director of the snowmobile association. The Governor came along to boost and important - $226 million annually - industry. We all stayed the night at Northern Outdoors wo we could set out at around 8:30 a.m. Outside it was 17 below zero - not with the wind chill, just plain 17 below zero. The metal door handle burned our fingers. The snow crunched under our feet like potato chips. The inside of every nose was icy, and the air was so cold that any deep breath ended in a cough.

Although most of our group was experienced, Dann Lewis had never been on a snowmobile before. Lowell Smith Jr., the state police detective along to protect the governor had not ridden since he was 12 --- 30 years ago. King hasn't ridden much, but his experience with motorcycles was a plus.

Some of our problems were unique, but many were common to beginning snowmobilers, and were the result of the frigid weather. Dann Lewis, Lowell Smith and I all found it hard to see through our helmets. "The first two hours I was tinkering around, trying to get the right balance to keep from freezing my eyeballs off and trying to get rid of the fog", Dann Lewis said.

Like him I was peering through three layers of frost - my glasses, my helmet's visor and the snowmobile's windscreen. I fiddled with the visor all day, sometimes peering through the frost, sometimes enduring the cold blast of air to clear it.

Bundled up as we were though, it seemed almost too warm at times. I had four layers on from the waist down and six - long underwear, flannel shirt, wool vest, sweater, winter coat and snowmobile suit on my upper body. One of the Northern Outdoors guides had to wrestle me into the snowmobile suit and put my big mittens on. I felt like an Apollo astronaut headed for the moon. Dann Lewis too, found himself groping to describe the sense of near paralysis. "I kept thinking, 'I feel like the Michelin man'," he said. "I was sort of walking around like a stiff scarecrow or the Tin Woodsman without any oil."

That stiffness contributed to another major problem - we weren't leaning. Shifting your weight really helps the snowmobile track better, but instead, we were just sitting there - as flexible as a tombstone - trying to steer it like a car. That doesn't work so well.

Did I mention that this trek was 83 miles? Once the trip was over, we could all laugh.......

from: Portland Press Herald January 1998, by Roberta Scruggs, Staff Writer