“Trail conditions?”
It was a text I received from Bill at 2pm on Friday, January 14th. Our hopes of snowmobiling up north this weekend had by now faded, after watching the trail reports all week. But today, I had heard that one of the areas we ride, Copemish, just south of Traverse City, was expecting a decent amount of lake effect snow.
I called the Copemish Lounge, a popular place for snowmobilers, and was told that they were “getting dumped on” and that there had been snowmobiles in and out all day. That confirmed it. I did a Google search and found a motel in nearby Thompsonville for Friday night, Mountain Valley, and told Bill I’d be picking up our trail permits on my way home. We were going north!
There is nothing like a last minute snowmobile trip. The sleds were ready, but we still needed to pack, get our gear together, and our favorite task, hooking up the trailer lights, which typically involves me holding a flashlight with frostbitten fingers and Bill yelling obscenities from under the back bumper of my truck. It always gets resolved, but puts us on the road late, and we still had over a four hour road trip ahead of us. We finally get on the road at 8pm.
It wasn’t until just past the Mount Morris exit on I-75 that the first snowmobile trailer passed us. We were glad to see others felt that confident about the weather to make the trip north. Trail conditions had been poor to fair over the last several weeks. Bill and I exchanged smiles.
Until just south of Saginaw, when we lost all running lights. Flipping the hazards on and pulling onto the shoulder, Bill checks fuses and finds nothing wrong, so we got off at the next exit and found a truck stop. He repeatedly checked the trailer wiring, figuring that was the cause, but ultimately, the problem pointed to a likely faulty light switch on the dash, which my McGyver ended up bypassing with a spool of wire and a cigarette lighter plug. Until now, I was sure our weekend was cancelled and we’d be staying somewhere in Saginaw, heading for home in the morning. But an hour and a half later, we were back on the road heading to our destination, all running lights, truck and trailer, being powered by an accessory outlet. Once again, I thanked God for sending me someone so awesome.
We drove into the snow that they were expecting, and the roads were pretty slick. Our headlights picked up several groups of deer standing at the side of the road, and luckily, they darted into the woods and not into our path. We had reservations at the Mountain Valley Motel, a nice, inexpensive little place just down M-115 from Crystal Mountain. We pulled in at 3am, and I retrieved our key that was taped to the office door. Though not brand new, our room was clean, had everything we needed, was also close to the trails, and we’ll likely return. I was out when my head hit the pillow, as was Bill.
Saturday we woke up to another six inches of fresh snow, and a plow waiting outside our room. Loading up, our first stop before hitting the trails was Rosie’s Country Café for much needed coffee and breakfast. Located kitty corner from one of the staging areas at Crystal Palace on M-115, Rosie’s is open for breakfast and lunch, from 6am to 2pm, and serves fantastic omelets with homemade toast.
It was 10am, and the sky had grown so dark that it felt like dusk. We made our way to a friends house, where we’d be staying that night, and found his street unplowed, and covered with at least a foot of snow. In between the tire tracks, the safety chains from our trailer left a mark in the snow behind us. Arriving at his also unplowed driveway, we promptly got my Explorer stuck in the snow, and even in 4WD Low, had a heck of a time getting out, actually having to unhook the trailer first to free the truck. The staging area at the Crystal Palace soon seemed like a better idea, until later when the plow came through.
We were the only other trailer in the cleared parking lot, making it very easy to unload and suit up in our gear. The sleds were running great, and at noon, we were on our way.
The Benzie Manistee Snowbirds Snowmobile Club provides a fantastic map, available at local establishments, and we decided to continue on Trail 3 to the end at Maple City. We’d ridden this stretch once before, last season. At the end of the trail is a popular bar and grill, and also a gas station, the perfect fuel up combination after a day of riding. From Copemish, where we started out, the end of the trail in Maple City was 95 miles one way.
The trails were in great shape, plenty of snow with only a few thin spots, but very hilly, like a washboard. The groomers that go through tend to flatten out the moguls, but it appeared that they may not have been out yet. We stood on the sleds quite often, using our knees to take the shock from the bumps, and would be very sore by that evening.
This was my first opportunity to use my heated jacket and glove liners which Bill wired to my sled, and I was in absolute Heaven. I’m pretty sure heated pants and socks are in my future. We passed a good number of snowmobilers that day, slowing down a bit in the narrow spots of the trails and throwing the appropriate signals, but most of trail 3 is wide enough for two sleds to safely pass.
Saturday was overcast with light snow flurries, and we arrived in Maple City around 4pm at Kerby’s Bar and Grill, formerly Benchwarmers. Bill’s sled was running on only one cylinder, and he determined it was a fouled plug, meaning the carburetors needed examining upon our return. Since my sled has four plugs and his two, he swapped one out, took it around the field, and it made a significant difference.
After dinner at Kerby’s (bacon cheeseburger deluxe and a nachos supreme the size of my bike tire) we headed across the street and through another field to a gas station, which, like smart gas station owners in this part of town, had a huge selection of snowmobile parts: belts, plugs, you name it. Bill bought two brand new plugs for his sled, and installed them for the ride back to Copemish.
At the gas station, we met up with several folks that wandered over to take a look at our sleds. We ride vintage Kawasakis, his is a 1978 Invader 440, mine a 1982 Invader LTD 440. I’ve found that having older sleds is like having a classic car. It’s rare that we ride anywhere without hearing, “I used to have one of those!” or “Wow, I haven’t seen one of those in years! Those were great sleds!” From a comfort perspective, the sleds of today have MUCH better suspension. I would imagine that the late models don’t beat you up on the trail like ours do. But in my opinion, the sign of a great weekend is feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck come Monday morning.
By the time were back on the trail it was dusk, and getting darker by the minute. We typically don’t ride at night, for safety reasons, but I love it, and was happy to 
have the chance to experience it. It was snowing again, and our headlights picked up the flakes as we sped down the trails. Temps were dropping, and I again was so thankful for my toasty heated gear. Riding at night exposes the moguls in the trail, as your headlight will cast a shadow so you see them sooner than you would during the day. This saved me from several tailbone jarring bumps I happened upon earlier. Your eyes tend to play tricks as the shadows of the trees move, and several times I thought I saw what appeared to be dark figures running from my headlight.
When we got closer to Copemish, it was snowing so hard that I actually lost Bill’s taillight a few times. We missed a turn that would take us back to the staging area, and had to circle back, but found the road we needed to take us back to the staging area to load up for the night. Returning to our friend’s house, we relaxed with libations and shared our stories of the day. Today’s ride totaled 190 miles round trip. Sore thumbs from holding the throttle, sore knees from the bumpy trail, sore shoulders from pull starting Bill’s sled. And so ready to do it all again tomorrow.
On Sunday we rode a bit more, back to Rosie’s then down the trail a ways, but Bill’s sled was still having spark plug issues, so we brought them back and just tooled around the yard a bit with our friends. At about 3pm we loaded up, said our goodbyes and headed south towards home.
It was hard to believe that this great weekend started out being so close to cancelled. I gave thanks for yet another fun filled weekend, and more memories made. There are a few wrinkles to iron out before the next trip, but that’s what weekdays are for. We’ll count the days until the next Friday night, when it’s once again time to hook up the trailer lights.