A guy named Mouse...
So, I wanted to put up a BIG THANK YOU to this man, some of you might know him, and please thank him again for me when you see him. No, buy him a beer. I'll be looking for you on the river this spring..... much Karma and thanks.
This Saturday Brian and I took the sleds up to Winter Park to enjoy the 5" that fell over night. We went up FR72 behind the tubing park twards the back side of WP to scout some more area. We have some old sleds for the times that dont run that well either. we tune them up but they break down.
We are crusing along quite nicely and made really good time out. We start screwing around just as it starts to open up a bit and We find a steep but short hill with a crown on the top. We rail this hill only but two times each before Brian lawn darts the 80's polaris 440 into a snowbank she starts to run rough 12 miles from the truck.
Now the snow turd is no peach either but has yet to let me down. On our start back to the truck the polaris looses it's mid band and has no power to climb out of the hills. So I toe into the tail end of the sled and push her to get to it's top end. Eventually it opens up and Brian is left with 2 choices, wide open or bust. He chooses wide open, leaving me to follow him at equal speed, mind you these are sub 80's machines one has no travel at all. As we fly over hill after hill and back to the main trail and can at least see our next turn. We start passing xc skiers and each time drop our speed to a crawl, then I ram his sled to get it going again, they must have thought we were nuts.
We get back to the truck and start trying to figure out what was up. Changed some plugs, messed with the air/fuel ratio bla. bla. bla. Short story is we got her running good again. After a few victory laps in the field next to the truck we deem her worthy of a short outing. Go to pull over the snow turd and snap the pull cord. No biggie, fix that and we are off.
We are now on a trail heading north out of Fraiser 'twards god knows what. Never really explored it but hey, it's 1:30 we've got plenty of time. After 3 forks and some flat land we figured we would head back. Did 2 loops and eventually found our last fork back to the trail where some boondockin' was in order. Bad idea, popped a plug wire on a tree stump and killed the machine just before the bridge over the creek where fortunately we were able to pull it out onto the narrow trail. We drug the sled out of the way and brian was bobsleded back to a start and off to find help while I sat with the sled. About 20 minuets of waiting I hear a sled in the distance, it's a groomer for one of the guided tours going out to clean up the trail after a days use. Now at this point I am grateful as ever, because as I watch him make the fork I realize that if we had not of made this fork we would not of had help. It turns out this trail was an access trail from the guide park and not that regularly traveled but only to access the area Brian and I had traveled earlier. Mouse tied me up on a short leash with a knot through the skis I now must learn. He had me back on track to the main trail and out to the truck in no time. It was just another day for him, but it was my saving grace. It felt like 10 miles out, but was closer to 2 or 3. He made my day and drive home. For if he had not stopped, we might have spent the night, or at least left the sled.