The current snowy weather has had me reminiscing of winter memories from my childhood.
When I was little, there were many different occasions of snowmen in the front yard, snow forts with epic snowball battles, and ice skating trips on the pond near our house.
The one thing I remember most about winter fun, however, is the time our family spent snowmobiling.
Snowmobile Sounds & Zooming Through Fields
Dad and Mom each had a snowmobile. When we all went out riding, I rode behind Dad on his Kawasaki, and Bobbie rode behind Mom on her Yamaha. (David wasn’t born yet during these times.)
Sometimes we would go over to Grandma Rose’s fields and ride there, or down the road, but mainly we rode in our fields behind the house.
Occasionally, we would hook up a rope and saucer behind the snowmobile and Dad would pull us kids around the yard. You learned quickly to hold on tight when he turned corners since it was his goal to dump us into the closest snowbank. You needed to bail if a tree was in the way. That was priority number one and a lesson quickly learned.
There’s a sound and specific gasoline smell that I associate with snowmobiling. Do you know how a smell can take you back to a specific memory or time in your life? That’s what happens to me when I smell and hear a snowmobile flying across a field.
A few years back, Brian and I were driving home one night from the store when we saw a group of snowmobiles traveling near the woods by our home. I asked Brian to stop the truck along side the road. I lowered my window to Brian’s disbelief.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Do you hear that? Just listen to them!” I replied, grinning at him.
We sat in the truck, window down, just listening to the revving of the machines as they raced by the trees.
Brian thought I was crazy, but I welcomed the instant memory that surfaced hearing the sounds of the machines.
Up North Lodge & Mountain Dew Cold in the Snow
There were a few years, during our main snowmobiling years, where Mom and Dad packed up my sister and I and took us on snowmobiling trips.
The trips typically involved my grandparents, maybe aunts and uncles, along with a few cousins.
One year, I remember that we all went up and spent a long weekend at this lodge in Kalkaska, Michigan. Grandma and Grandpa Lovette were there, Aunt Judy and Uncle Time, along with a few others.
I remember a large log cabin style living room with a TV and a few couches scattered all around. There was an upstairs where our rooms were, and a buffet style kitchen downstairs off the main room.
The clearest, and most impressive memory of that trip, was the line of snowmobiles outside of the lodge.
It was amazing for me, as a young child, to see so many snowmobile machines in one place at a time.
During that trip, we would have outings where we would all get zipped up in our snowmobile suits (yes, that’s a thing), insulated gloves, boots, and of course, helmets.
We would head out on the machines in a long line, driving down roads and making our way to state trails. I rode with Dad, Bobbie with Mom.
During the trips, we would usually have at least one time where we would become lost. (Grandpa had a hat that said, “I’m their leader. Which way did they go?)
No one had cell phones back then to help them find their way, but it was fine. We eventually always found our way back by following the tracks, or asked directions from fellow snowmobilers that we would see in the woods.
The group always found a nice, quiet spot in the snow-covered woods to stop and take a break. Grandma would open the compartment in the back of her machine and pull out cold Mountain Dews and Diet Pepsi.
I remember the adults would open the caps of the pop with a bottle opener, take a drink, and then stick the opened glass bottles in the snow to sit there and stay cold while they talked.
Typically a map would be unfolded and consulted. There would be a discussion about time, how far we were away from our destination, and a check of the gas tanks.
Bathroom breaks happened in the woods behind whatever tree looked big enough to hide you.
If a restaurant was on the agenda, we would make our way out of the woods and into whatever small, Northern Michigan town we were closest to. Snowmobilers were welcome, and there was never a fear of being pulled over by local law enforcement for being out on the roads. It was just expected.
Some memories you can recreate. My snowmobiling memories are not one of them. Cell phones are a thing now, machines are not as welcome as they once were, and life is just different now.
I find that I’m okay with that. While I have those fond memories to look back upon, I also enjoy being warm, snuggled inside in front of the fire with my hot chocolate.
Snowmobile Helmets Galore: Leota Bar
When you are little, everything just seems bigger than life.
I have this memory of pulling up to a place to eat when we were out snowmobiling with family, and seeing all of these helmets hanging from the ceiling of the bar.
I talked with my dad about this memory just this past month. He told me I was remembering a bar in Leota, MIchigan.
I have this crisp, clear memory of seeing my Grandma Lovette’s helmet hanging up in a line with helmet after helmet, circling the ceiling in the restaurant. Grandma had this snowmobile helmet that was covered in a rainbow-colored fabric. It was quite unique. I had never seen another one like it. (After Grandma passed away in ’95, Grandpa sold her suit and helmet. He had a habit of selling anything that wasn’t tied down. I wish he hadn’t, but then again, I have a habit of holding onto ‘things’ in fear of losing a memory. I need to get better at understanding that the object does not always equate the value of the memory the object represents to me. It’s a work in progress.)
Am I Depriving My Kids By Not Taking Them Snowmobiling?
Whenever I reflect on childhood memories, I think of my own children and if I’m providing them with similar childhood experiences that I had.
In this situation, the answer is no, but I think it’s okay.
Everything can’t, and shouldn’t, be the same.
Life is a continuous journey, always evolving and changing.
I don’t think their futures will be impacted negatively because they didn’t spend time on a snow machine in their childhood.
They will be fine.
Goals for Today:
- Clean my Bedroom – Still Working on that New Year’s Resolution
- Hang up Clothes
- Complete Some Pinterest Pins