This morning began with breakfast at 7:30am back at the Hostile we found last night. Scrambled eggs, crepes, toast, juice and milk, all served at a small table buffet style. The morning was sunny, and the relentless winds of the last 2 days had finally calmed. If the trails have been groomed, it should be a good day. Why is it always "should"?
At breakfast, Craig, our fearless leader, engaged in conversation with a Quebecian that was staying at the Hostile, he mentioned, but I forgot, what he was doing in the area as he said he lived about 7 hours away. Craig inquired if the gentleman had a vehicle that he could drive Craig down the road and check out trail conditions. Well, yes indeed he does. Off they go for a short jaunt down the road, but before leaving I say to Craig, within earshot of the gentleman, to be sure and hide the body better than last time. A nervous chuckle ensued.
Upon his return, the Trail is declared passable, and we are on for a 9:30 departure. But wait, Chris Boyle, a new rider with us this year, has an oil pressure warning flashing on his dashboard as he is warming up his sled. A few minutes delay, a call to somebody, a quick look on YouTube, and it is determined its just a sensor, and run it like you stole it.
We were on the trail and it was wind blown and not so smooth. We made our way, plugging along pretty good. Not fast, not slow, but steady. We had our first rest after 30 miles at a club's relaise. Short break for restrooms, and a snack if you had one. Somebody at the relaise said the trail was groomed from there on out. Thank god.
We picked up the pace and stayed at it pretty much all day. The breaks were few, and the longest were just for fuel. Because of the late start and the number of miles we had to go, it was decided early on that lunch was going to be skipped today. Grab a snack out of your bag at a break or a ham and cheese sandwich at the gas station when you got fuel. That's what your getting, and like it.
Pretty uneventful for most of the day. Everybody just riding along, snow dust flying, skis down, sun shining, but still cold.
But it always happens... Coming around a soft bend in the trail, the groomer dropped a large chunk of frozen snow, about a 2'x2' diameter ice ball. Most of the riders escaped unscathed. But not our buddy Ron Nicks and his brand new Ski-doo 1200 4 stroke. He missed the ice ball, went on to do a one ski wheelie for about 15 feet and then promptly landed in a 6 foot gullie filled with snow, on left side of the trail. This one was pretty easy compared to Chip's debacle yesterday. Dig out a little snow, grab the snow bungee strap and back him out of his trench. He was back on the trail in about 15 minutes, and we caught up with the pack a couple miles down the trail.
There wasn't much time for picture taking. Hell, if you aren't stopping for lunch, your not stopping to take a picture. There was just the constant drone of your engine, and the slowest moving odometer in the freeking world.
I must now, in the fairness of reporting, and to maintain the integrety of this blog, report on one other small incident that occured about 15 miles before our destination. If you want to, I did post a couple pictures of our day below if you want to just skip to that... but.. as we were crossing a quite long iron bridge that had two narrow, approximately 2" wide steel raised rails, that your ski's straddled, and your track rode upon, without the assistance of your studs, I was, as usual the last man in the train, and the train decided to stop, to me unexpectadly. I tried to stop, but with just my track making contact, the brakes were useless, and it actually felt like I gained speed, and ran smack dab into the rear bumper of my current wingman's, Jamie Elfstrom, Ski-doo. He came out pretty well unscathed, me, not so much. I now have a hole on the left side of my hood and a couple broken plastic pieces on the front. But enough about that, let's get back to the good stuff.
It was 8:00pm when we finally got in to our SCHEDULED overnight stay location, in Baie Comeau. 244.7 miles. The group was tired, cold, beat up, hangry. Dinner was at 9pm, and the table banter was how nice it's going to be to just have a 60 mile ride the next morning, catch the ferry to cross the St Lawrence Seaway, and then just a quick 80 mile ride to the next nights stay. Then the table banter became, "well you know, we have only successfully made the ferry 33% of the times we have attempted it". Action Dan was, how should I phrase it...bold? confident? overzealous perhaps, in proclaiming he was now co-leader, and our percentage was going to actually increase to 50% tomorrow, cus he is getting us to that ferry. "Just you watch" I believe were his words.
I can't wait to find out myself...
Bye for now,
Stick