SNOWMOBILING KEEPS CONVERTING 'EM

Story by Mike McKenna

Photos by Christian Pondella

OKAY. I’LL ADMIT IT. I WAS ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE who thought snowmobiles were nothing but obnoxiously loud, gas-guzzling sleds on steroids, ridden almost exclusively by drunken rednecks.

And yes, it’s true, I was one of those people who’d mumble nasty things about the riders’ uncles, mothers and pets as the snowmobiles would pass while I was snowshoeing or cross-country skiing.

But sometimes, after the motorized sleds would rumble away and silence would settle back in, I’d wonder what it would be like to be effortlessly buzzing across the snow instead of clomping through it one stride at a time. So late last winter, under the thin guise of journalism, I accepted an invitation to go snowmobiling with some friends and see if these drunken rednecks were onto anything.

Snowmobiling first became a popular recreational activity during the dawn of the Cold War era of the 1950s. Since then, America’s feelings towards both the sport of snowmobiling, and mother Russia herself, have been steadily heating up. Americans now spend more than $22 billion on snowmobiling annually, meanwhile, (undoubtedly some of these same Americans) voted Russian the sexiest female accent in a recent Playboy poll.

It was a classic late winter day, mostly sunny with a chilly — winter-isn’t- over-yet — breeze, when I met my snowmobiling addicted friends, Eastside restauranteurs Todd and Melanie Nagy, out at the edge of Smokey Bear Flat. After giving me the basic rundown (Your thumb is the gas, it breaks like a bike, don’t hit a tree!), off we went, into the great white open.

Our first stop was the wide expanse of Crater Flats, where we zoomed around for a while and then had lunch while enjoying an impressive view of Mammoth Mountain. That first hour on the sled I felt a little tenuous. It’s an awful lot of power to have at the tip of your thumb. Still, there was something thrilling, heck even downright sexy, about having so much power in the palm of your hand.

After lunch, we hopped on evergreen-lined, groomed trails and headed up to the Minaret Vista. Halfway up there, the sled, a 2000 Polaris RMK 700, started to feel more comfortable — like an old friend you could fart in front of and not feel embarrassed.

From there, we headed to the Yodler for a refreshment amongst other snowmobilers, skiers and people partying like the Berlin Wall had just fallen.

“Snowmobiling is my favorite sport by far,” Todd said over a beer. “It’s a great way to get away. There’s so much terrain around here. You can ride all day and maybe see a couple other riders. You can just get away from everything else in your life.”

Between Mammoth and June Lake there are more than 100 miles of groomed trails, as well as countless miles of ungroomed terrain, offering a great variety of destinations for a large variety of riders.

“One of the greatest things about snowmobiling is that it’s something people of all ages and skill levels can enjoy together,” Melanie said. A statement backed up by Ron Malm, owner of Mammoth Powersports.

“Snowmobiling pulls in people who don’t necessarily do other powersports. It’s far more family-oriented than, say, dirt biking. It’s also more accepted because it’s seen as being more low impact, more ‘green’ if you will, because you’re riding on snow and you don’t leave permanent tracks,” explained Ron, who counts among his clientele for sales, service and a valet snowmobile storage club, lots of families, members of the Sierra Club and a couple in their sixties who prove that romance never dies by taking their sleds out for snowy picnics.

Bad Days are Good Days

Blustery days that shut down most of the ski area are also supposed to be some of the best days for snowmobiling. Instead of taking to a coffee shop or bar during an epic Eastside winter dump, some folks find that the way to heaven is powered by a snowmobile.

“A bad day skiing is a great day snowmobiling. A lot of our trails are protected by the trees, so we just kill it on powder days,” said Mike Colbert, the director of Mammoth Mountain’s Snowmobile Adventures, the region’s largest guide service. “Snowmobiling is so much fun. It’s such a ball to take people out and introduce them to the sport. They’re usually smiling.”

Smiling is exactly what I was doing by the time we got back to Smokey Bear Flat. Flying across the snow with the ease (and ten times the decibels) of a red tailed hawk soaring above is what snowmobiling felt like to me. Of course, this means I’m now a full-fledged fan of snowmobiling and if that means I’m nothing but a drunken redneck, then so be it.

Besides, when you’re having as much fun as you can have on a snowmobile, you could give a rat’s patootie what other people say about you. Plus, the Eastside is pretty much all that’s left of the wide-open, wild west, so everybody should have at least a little bit of redneck in ’em.