Protect The Gift Of Snowmobiling

It was Christmas morning, 2011. As my parents woke me up, the smell of pancakes, syrup and candles filled the air as excitement raced in my heart. Four-year-old me ran down the stairs to see all the neatly laid-out gifts under the nicely decorated tree that stood next to the fireplace.

One gift stood out from the rest. It was large – so large, in fact, that it was wrapped oddly. It looked like a blanket of three different wrapping paper variants was thrown over it. I was told I had to wait to open that one last.

As I was tearing open all my other gifts, speculation over what it was invaded my mind. Eventually, the anticipation came to an end when I unwrapped it. Under the weird packaging sat a ZR120 Arctic Cat. I was so excited! Over the following winters, little me had as much fun as a kid could have riding that wonderful youth sled.

Six years later, on the Christmas of 2017, I woke up to similar smells and excitement. Yet another oddly wrapped present was under that same tree, and I purposefully saved that one until last.

This time, it was the tiniest present. Eventually, I tore off that wrapping and unveiled a single key. Then my father told me to look in the garage where I saw a 1983 Yamaha Enticer 300 twin just for me – all original in its dark blue and silver glory.

Fortunately, there was snow on the ground that day, so I was able to take it on a maiden voyage across the yard.

It was at about the same time that I started to get involved with the local snowmobile club by helping put in the signs for our local trails during the fall for the upcoming winter seasons. Then, not too long later, I started riding the local trails, which consist mostly of corn fields and some private property that was leased to the club.

Fast forward to early March of 2023, when I did my first sled trip with my father. We were staying in Paradise, Michigan. As we trailered up there, I very much remember my father hounding me to stay to the right of sign of the trail (don’t worry, I did) and stressing other rules. We finally came to the Mackinac Bridge, which definitely got me even more stoked for riding while I gazed upon all the blue ice that formed on the massive structure in the prior weeks.

The next morning, we embarked from Paradise on our sleds to head to Pine Stump Junction north of Newberry. This time, I was riding my father’s 2007 Polaris IQ Dragon, a sled he won in a Polaris contest 16 years earlier.

The trails were in good condition, even though it was a little above freezing and sunny. I was absolutely loving the experience and taking in every single second that passed while riding the hard-packed trails that featured hills, bends and straits all through a mostly wooded landscape of cedar and pine.

We then came to an unmaintained trail, which of course featured huge moguls the entire way. It led to Crisp Point Lighthouse, an area that offered a beautiful view of Lake Superior. The big lake seemed so endless and was filled with gigantic ice caps as big as houses.

We then went back down the trail and rode to our lunch stop at Pine Stump. It was such a cool place. I enjoyed watching all of the sleds come and go for gas and food. There was even a Sherp outside, which is a monstrous, amphibious, tank-like, rugged vehicle built in Ukraine.

After lunch, we hopped back onto our machines and headed to the cabin. Afterward, I had the opportunity to ride in a trail groomer going from Paradise out to Tahquamenon Falls. It was a very different experience, yet a very fun one at that!

I remember one moment when we came up a hill in the groomer and two snowmobiles flew around the corner. In shock, the riders turned the machines onto the run-off to let us by. At that moment, not only did my heart drop, but it reinforced all of the safety knowledge that had been passed down and ingrained into me. It gave me a different perspective of the trails and trail safety.

After my trail groomer ride, we headed back to the cabin for a good night’s rest, which concluded the trip.

So why did I write all of this? Well, I vividly remember looking around, talking to so many wonderful people, and thinking to myself: “This could all be gone one day.”

While new snowmobile sales have been relatively steady since 2011, they are way down from the 1990s. However, the demographic of the sport is aging. Trespassing and lack of people in clubs threaten this sport. We also cannot forget the communities that survive and thrive off this form of winter tourism for their economies. Losing all of this could potentially become a very unfortunate reality and is especially upsetting to people like me, who are young and passionate about snowmobiles and who want to ride forever.

Unless we, as a community, can stand up and do something, this might one day all be gone. So go join a club, become active, get your kids involved (if you have any) and ride to the ends of the earth twice over. Let’s keep this amazing sport that we all love alive!

Author Collin Pawloski, 16, is a high school student and avid snowmobiler from Angola, Indiana.