Before I started snowmobiling, I learned the “rules of the road”. It wasn’t until much later that I realized another whole set of rules exists that only experience can teach. These principles aren’t written down anywhere, but they’re as immutable as running out of gas if you don’t fill up and there are many more than 10. Fooled ya!

1.     No matter how smooth the trail has been, it will suddenly become bumpy after lunch. I won’t have any Rolaids.

2.     If there have been any signs for gas, there won’t be one marking that last critical turn-off to the station. Inevitably, I will be very low on fuel when I drive by.

3.     If I do find the gas station, the surface around the pumps will be plowed down to the asphalt. Then I’ll have to get off my sled to move the air hose that signals a car’s arrival.

4.     While gassing up, cars will park around me so I have to physically move my sled to leave. 

5.     If I backtrack on a long, unmarked stretch of trail because I haven’t seen any marker for miles and am unsure if it’s the right trail, the proper sign will inevitably be just around the next corner after where I turned.  I will discover it only after riding all the way back to the last intersection, turning around again and coming all the way back. Now I will really need gas.

6.     I won’t see any other riders all day, but at a sharp corner, I’ll suddenly meet a parade of oncoming sleds. They will mostly be taking their half of the trail from the middle. 

7.     After a long, hard day when I most need it, the hot tub will be broken that night. It is the reason I booked this hotel in the first place.

8.     On cold days, when I’m especially looking forward to hot soup for lunch, the soup of the day will be a kind I don’t like. Or it will be luke-warm.

9.     Whenever I finally decide to ask someone else where I am, that person won’t have a clue about the local trails. That will make two of us.

10.  Even on the calmest day, if I need to consult my trail map, a high wind will start to blow.

11.  I won’t need to use the facilities unless there aren’t any.

12.  It will rain the one day that I’m not wearing my FXR waterproof snowmobile suit.

13.  I’ll arrive in town by snowmobile immediately after the street I must follow has been ploughed.

14.  If I don’t spread my gear to dry each night, I’ll be cold and sorry the next day.

15.  When coming to a point where the trail ahead is plowed bare, there will never be a sign saying how far the snowless section extends. Similarly, if the trail detours onto a paved road, a sign will rarely be in place that says how far I have to ride on pavement to pick it up again.

16.  If there is a logging truck anywhere nearby, I will meet it, usually at the most inconvenient place. Ditto for groomers.

17.  If I have to ride along the shoulder of a deserted road or highway, a large tractor trailer will appear to spray me with slush.

18.  When I arrive in a town, I will be chased by a barking dog. Or the whole pack. The trail will usually go by the dump.

19.  I will know when a small town isn’t snowmobile-friendly, if folks in the restaurant look at me as if I’m an alien. Or maybe it’s my helmet head.

20.  The guys with the hottest sleds will ride bumper to bumper at high speed.

21.  On each ride, I will see one hole too late, bottoming out to compress my spine like an accordion.

22.  When riding with a smoker, it will take at least ten minutes to get going again any time I hesitate at a corner or otherwise appear to be slowing down.

The 1st Ontario Snow-cial Ride took place Tuesday, Feb. 21 and Wednesday, Feb. 22 at Muskoka’s premier JW Marriott Rosseau Resort – and I guess Mother Nature was afraid to get bad press, because it snowed most of the time! Or maybe she rented it from Muskoka Sports & Recreation. We rode local MSR trails on Tuesday and then sampled Almaguin trails Wednesday. It snowed all day!

The Ontariol Snow-cial Ride brought together a bunch of guys who really live and breath snowmobiling - Claude Aumont, Mr.Snowmobiling for Ontario tourism; John Arkwright, touring editor from Supertrax International Magazine; Jeff McGirr, extreme sledder for Lucrestyle Productions; Josh Grills, social networking guru from the Ontario Federation of Snowmobile Clubs; and the popular “Groomer Guy” Luc Levesque from Dubreuilville. And of course, yours truly Craig Nicholson, The Intrepid Snowmobiler. Motorcycle maven Mike Jacobs had his debut ride on a sled without hitting a tree! Video thanks to snowmobile.com and photos by Virgil Knapp.

It’s rare that such a group of avid riders can coordinate their busy winter schedules to be at the same time and place, so it speaks to the importance each of us places on working together to promote Ontario sledding. Check out all of our sites for more about the Ontario Snow-cial Ride and if you’re into sledding and social media, stay tuned for the 2nd Ontario Snow-cial Ride next February!

I remember the day I almost hit a groomer. I‘d come around a blind corner and there it was, looming over me, filling the trail. Wide-eyed, we both hit the binders, and my sled came to an abrupt stop as the skis kissed the groomer’s blade. I looked up into the cab, feeling small and vulnerable before that machine’s great bulk.

Now here I was again, being dwarfed by a piece of grooming equipment. Except this time, my hope was to enter it through the door, not the windshield. Jim, the operator, was holding it open so I could join him that night. I wanted to see what it was really like to groom a trail.

Within minutes the friendly lights of town succumbed to an all-pervading darkness that fell from the sky as if painted with a tar brush. The Man on the Moon must have been on vacation because the only illumination was the groomer’s lights, cutting a swath in the inky blackness. It was eerie knowing that we were surrounded by wilderness, but only able to see the scantly lit limbs abutting the trail. And the white carpet ahead, moonscaped by moguls, bumps and divots.

Fortunately, our cab was cozy, although my passenger jump seat hardly compared to Jim’s ergonomic throne. Enough heat blasted through that Jim opened a side vent for a little fresh air. The engine noise notched up a few decibels, but we could still chat. The controls for steering, and working the blade and drag were laid out around him like a casino’s black jack table. He worked these with precise, deft manoeuvres, an integrated ballet of motion geared to lay out a table top of reworked snow out the back.

Funny thing about grooming: unless there’s snow to plough up front, most of the action takes place behind, where the multiple drag blades cut off the peaks, churning the snow to the pan where it’s flattened and packed into a new surface. Hopefully, it will lie there untouched for 6 to 10 hours while it hardens in a metamorphosis much like what happens when the kids’ snowman sits overnight. With any luck, it will take that long to melt too!

Unless there’s a problem, the passenger has nothing to do in a groomer except keep the operator company. I watched Jim’s eyes flitting back and forth constantly, from the trail ahead to the rear view mirrors, to frequent glances over his shoulder to ”check on the product”. Because the terrain was completely irregular, Jim was always shifting this or adjusting that to ensure a level cut that didn’t skin the hill tops or dump too much in the holes. He said that this slow, steady pace gave the drag time to do its work, whereas too fast caused skipping that would leave nearly invisible ripples that soon morph into moguls.

I was glad he knew the trail well. The thought of driving into that black void ahead would have been frightening otherwise. Even so, I marvelled at his anticipation of the many corners, hills and valleys we traversed that night. The monotonous rumble of the diesel became soothing after a while and I had trouble staying awake. Jim must have seen me nodding off, because he stopped, announcing it was time for a stretch.

We both stepped out onto the huge rubber tracks whose spongy give under my feet reminded me of walking on a floating dock. I’d forgotten how nippy it was outside. I didn’t even want to think about the possibility of breaking down or getting stuck out here. I hoped his two-way radio worked. And that someone was awake at the other end.

We still had many hours left in this grooming run. Jim told me that 8 to 10 hours at a time is his preference, but when he fills in for one of his buddies occasionally, it can mean a 22-hour marathon that I didn’t even want to think about. After my first four hours, all my thoughts were focused on my warm, soft bed where I’d dream of riding smooth, smooth trails. 

If I had to choose only one magic tool to carry while snowmobiling, it would be duct tape. Duct tape can get you through many emergencies and doesn’t require any other tools. You can be all thumbs, and still be an expert duct taper. It’s tough to inadvertently injure yourself using duct tape. And using today’s vibrantly coloured duct tape, I don’t need to be dreary and can match my sled too. If duct tape has one major downfall for snowmobiling, it’s that cold can make it less sticky, so warm it up before using.

Duct tape demonstrates its benefits to me over and over again. One companion somehow tore up the seat of her black snow pants. Repairs were affected with strips of black tape. She rode the rest of the tour without frostbiting her butt.

When I snowmobiled in the Arctic. Icy winds would start frostbite on any exposed flesh.  Judiciously applied to nose, cheeks and temples each morning, duct tape provided a protective barrier. But be careful: local restaurants and stores may think it’s a hold-up if you forget to remove the tape! (Tip: The best way to peel it off is under a hot shower.)

I’ve used duct tape in many other ways. It’s a great way to seal pant and wrist cuffs against snow incursion while playing in powder. I’ve used it to secure electric visor and helmet communicator wires in place. On one tour, duct tape held my jacket together when the zipper broke. On another, I used it to hold a handle bar bag in place after the strap tore off. I’ve even captured that geek look when I held two broken halves of my glasses together at the nosepiece with duct tape. At least it wasn’t white.

Duct tape can be an excellent bandage or immobilizer for a splint. It can cover a blister or wrap a twisted ankle. Two pieces across the lens of glasses, leaving a narrow strip for seeing, can help prevent snow blindness. 

Under the hood, duct tape can hold survival items in place. I use it to reinforce the corners of transported oil containers and secure their tops from leaking. It’s also useful for many minor repairs and to prevent wires from chaffing. I’ve used it to block hood vents in deep powder, to hold a hood together and to repair a windshield. And if worst comes to worst, it can hold your luggage in place or repair a ripped bag.

Some manufacturers call it duct tape, others duck tape. I don’t know why. I’ve never used it to tape either a duct or a duck, but it will continue to be the most essential part of my snowmobiling kit. 

If you’re looking for a great Ontario ride, where snow conditions are good and trails are A-1, head for the Ottawa Valley and stay at the Best Western Renfrew! The hotel is totally trail accessible from TOP A and has plenty of parking for trucks and trailers. Only 4 hours from the GTA!