Winter 2019 | 23 A mile into the woods I could see a residence through the trees off to the left. I remember meeting the landowner a few years earlier at the general store. It was just after I mounted a “VAST Snowmobile Trail Maintenance” sign on my ATV. He noticed the placard and walked over to chat. He shared how he was heading over to a customer’s home to pack the snow in her driveway with a hot water tank. He added it would work well on our snowmobile trails too. I was in disbelief that a landowner was so interested in the condition of our trails. Back on the trail, our odyssey took us into a thick forest. The terrain became quite aggressive with tight turns and a persistent climb in elevation. The base pitched in many areas and I worked hard to maintain control as the snow deepened. I would kneel, stand, perch on the foot boards and press my chest against the handlebar to shift weight. I remembered working just as hard at Tug Hill years earlier. I would peg the gas in the deep lake effect snow, shooting rooster tails out the rear. An objective was to carve into hillsides and the occasional wide-driven cornice while hanging on with all my might. Riders would compete for the best launch over huge drifts. Of course my Arctic Cat hood was decorated in brilliant racing graphics. But today, as I slowly flatten out a trail, my objective is different. The only sticker is a club decal in the center of the windshield. I guess it’s true… sometimes less is more. In a few miles, we took a break at the entry to our large corridor trail. I realized I’d forgotten to hydrate. Adrenaline must have a way of masking your thirst. While gulping a container of slushy juice, Dana and I chatted about the experience. We agreed I was fine to finish the remaining five miles by myself. My trailmaster turned around to return to our starting point. I was now alone. I carried more speed on the wide corridor trail. Behind me, snow dust swirled like the vapor trail from a jet fighter. In a half hour I turned up a snow packed mountain road. I was nervous about the drifts alongside a logging clear- cut project. The engine struggled, but I plunged through nonetheless. In fifteen minutes, I reached my destination. After catching my breath, I realized I wasn’t finished. I topped off the gas tank and went back out, not only to finish the corridor trail but to groom further south for park and ride access. The mileage belonged to a neighboring club. I would send them a message tonight. It’s the right thing to do. When all was done I returned back to the Skandic’s temporary home and pressed the kill switch. I flipped the accessory light switch off and found myself in total darkness. I grabbed my personal gear and began to walk home. Looking back as my footsteps crunched, the drag was tucked in with a blanket of white snow. I finally understood why trails and grooming equipment lesser in size are so important. Even though the wide VAST corridor trails and mammoth grooming units get most of the attention, the smaller equipment and secondary trails are equally intriguing. These tight and twisty pathways are like miniature winter dioramas that constantly change. The operators who groom them display incredible persistence and stamina. I endured the bitter cold. I outlasted the exhausting journey. I groomed a snowmobile trail. I hope they like it. Grooming Experience