Nice post. When I'm supposed to be working I day dream about our rides from the previous seasons. I also think about places to go in the upcoming season. I'm hoping Quebec lets us in this year and the Covid vaccine is available at today's neighborhood drugstore. Not likely in either account. I've been over to Bob's Ski Doo a couple times to see my old friends. I might drop the 600 off soon for a once over by the boys at Bob's. I'm looking at every inch of trail in NH, the only place sure to be open. I'm definitely game to ride Sarge's area and #5's new spot too.
It's just a Friday in early June 2020 - the year of Covid - and I happened upon some photos of the season that brought back some nice memories. A time when you could belly up to the bar after a long day of riding with your buddies. Staying in hotels where the trail goes right to your room door. You could still only see people's eyes but that was because they had a helmet on and not a mask.
I never get tired of a view blanketed in snow. Ice on the bodies of water and branches bent down under a load of the white stuff. Pointing the machines up a hill and making the climb to a vista at the top. Or a tight switchback that requires some hustle to keep it between the trees. It's like an adventure every time the map doesn't match the signs at the trail junctions, and the gps introduces another argument altogether.
We work together to make our best guess and it doesn't really matter because no matter what direction we choose, we're riding. Sometimes, the wrong direction is a blessing because it's a trail we never would have taken. The trail less traveled some famous guy once wrote.
Summer riding is fun too, really just a substitute for the winter rides though. There's nothing like being in the true wilderness, miles from any civilization. Knowing you are balancing remaining fuel and daylight. In a completely new land. The ride at Cote Nord two years ago was really something. I did feel the pressure was on, even though there was only the one single trail. We lost it at one point, in the dark, with limited miles left in the tank, and no fall back sanctuary. It was Sept Iles or die trying! We would have rode into the night as need be. I'll never forget #7 pulling in to Forestville.
Anyway, the machine are asleep now, tucked away for the long hot off season. But they are also dreaming, of snow under their tracks, groomers under their skis, and cold crisp air in their intake throats.
Me too! Stay safe and we'll see you all in the fall. Let's bring back the annual trip meetings - there might be a correlation between those and trip attendance.
