By: Jason Giacchino
Email: offthepegs@atvsource.com

Off The Floor Boards

I won’t lie to you, as a resident of New York (where three of out four seasons are winter) I’ve somehow managed to steer pretty clear of winter sports. Despite the obvious relationship and similarities between quads and snowmobiles, the concept of freezing wind chills and blasting over blinds of drifting snow have never really fallen under the definition of entertainment for me. Don’t get me wrong; however, my yet undecided youth was often filled with unforgettable adventures from the rear of a snowmobile saddle, complete with a death grip around the waist of my buddy Shawn (who apparently mistook my panicked squeezing as an indication to go faster).

As I get older (at a rate seemingly triple that of everyone else) - I look back at those memories and think to myself, I wonder what ever happened to Shawn? More importantly, I remember why I never became obsessed with snowmobiles the way I had with ATV’s. The short answers are frost bite and too much pushing. But alas since I get paid to write columns longer than two paragraphs, I will elaborate.

It turns out that some law of science mixed with Mother Nature’s cruel sense of humor results in a type of air current unique to snowmobiling that defies all layers of clothing (especially socks). This wind manages to work its way inside triple layers of tightly knit fabric, makes short work of protective gear, travels (as if on a mission) up pant legs, along sleeves, inside helmets, and down the back. The result is a chill that lasts long after the ride itself ends, generally requiring several cups of hot chocolate and a hot tub soaking in effort to return to 98.6.

The second memory was equally common back in the day and equally unimpressive from my standpoint. The views were amazing as we transgressed deep into the frozen wilderness, leaving all traces of civilization behind in a cloud of swirling snow-dust, where, when any chance of calling for help diminished, we would get hopelessly stuck. Most rides involved more time spent in knee deep streams of slush, waist deep drifts, and on the side of near vertical bluffs, than on the vehicle itself. The wildly spinning track spraying chunks of frozen mud and ice onto our chests as we heaved and shoved the machine back into traction.

It comes as no surprise then really, that when winter finally ended, so to did my desire to play in the snow. It was around that time that I acquired my first ATV (a severely under powered 1981 Yamaha YT-125, a three wheeler for those of you who don’t remember the 1980’s) with which I knew immediately was where I belonged. I would like to pretend that my first winter with the ‘ol YT was spent indoors, patiently awaiting spring’s first thaw, but like I said earlier, I won’t lie. I was once again behind Shawn on his snowmobile, only this time from the controls of my Yamaha, fishtailing along the trails with a smile so big my helmet could hardly contain it. I know what you’re thinking and sure it was probably still cold and windy and yes I must have still wound up doing my share of pushing, but for whatever reason, I don’t seem to remember any of that- One of the benefits of growing old so rapidly.