Tuesday, January 16, 2007

When the snow falls and the trail calls

My beloved white top has returned. My trusty Arctic
Cat Panther snowmobile has been pulled out of storage
and prepped for a winter of fun. Yes it’s snowmobile
season again and the smell of two stroke wafts
delightfully in the crisp December air. I’m raring to
ride and an Alberta Clipper has dropped seven
centimeters, enough to glide around the pasture.
I don’t set a blistering pace nor do I terrorize the
local wildlife. I love riding cross country. One time
I rode on a rally from my front porch to Duck Lake
return. What fun that was. I have a two up so my wife
or kids can ride with me if they so choose. I pull a
big old plastic sleigh I can fill with wood or
giggling kids. Our entourage includes the family dog
loping along side.
My first experience snowmobiling was riding a 1965
Ski-Doo Olympic when I was fifteen years old living in
Punnichy Saskatchewan. This rickety sled exerted a
meagre 10.5 hp with a top speed of twenty miles an
hour on hard pack. The boogie wheel suspension and the
skimpy seat had all the give of a prison mattress. It
was a bone jarring experience. Still it was a hoot to
bump around on. I kept a small trap line made up of
rabbit snares and overgrown mouse traps I baited with
sardines to catch weasels. I was never any good at
trapping muskrats but I shot the occasional grouse
with my single shot 22. The Touchwood Hills were pure
magic in winter and I have many a pleasant memory of
gliding over hill and dale as they say.
Like all small towns in Saskatchewan, Punnichy had
its rumours and gossip, its characters and a certain
dark racism lurking in the background. I was not aware
of nor could I understand the devastating and hidden
impact of sexual abuse happening at the neighbouring
Gordon’s Residential School.
My winter wanderings would take me cross country to
places like Quinton or the Gordon’s school where I
could warm up and if I was lucky get a coffee or a hot
chocolate. It was the winter of 1968/1969 that I met
and sledded around with Bill Starr, the administrator
of the Gordon’s residential school. He owned a brand
new Ski-Doo 340 T’NT and I was thrilled horn to tail
when he let me drive it. I had no idea at the time I
was sledding with a sexual predator. While my brush
with Starr was no more than an exchange of sleds for
an afternoon of riding, I was dumbfounded when I found
out this same kind man was a monster. He was later
imprisoned for sexually assaulting young people in the
residential school and as a Sea Scout leader in New
Brunswick.
I now see and work with the intergenerational impact
of people suffering from the effects of abuse
including colonialism. The residential schools after
all, were abusive by design. My own self care includes
snowmobiling. I find my burden is lifted. The trail
calls. I spin track and I’m gone in a world that’s
wondrous and exhilarating. I call it my freedom.
Sometimes I need to escape and nothing else including
quading and boating has brought me such good feelings.
I understand there will be marathon AA meetings in
both Regina and Saskatoon Christmas Eve through Boxing
Day. Imagine that non-stop AA meetings. No wonder they
need a Big Book. I may need to stop in and brush up on
a few steps myself. My brother claims being on the
wagon is only transportation to the next drunk but I
can safely say 25 five years on the wagon has been
good for me. Booze flows like water during the Xmas
season and it’s all a poor addict can do to hang in
there. On News Eve there should be the annual AA Round
Up in Saskatoon. When I was younger I thought an AA
Round Up was when the cops went around to the bars
with the Paddy Wagon and pulled out all the drunks. In
twenty five years of sobriety, by the way, I still
have yet to learn the art of dancing sober. During
Christmas time I do find comfort in generous slices of
turkey and the occasional jumbo Toberlone bar. This
indulgence does not bode well for my type 2 diabetes,
however. My only answer is to fire up the Panther and
scoot into the woods with a chilled diet Coke or two.
In such times snowmobiling is the only answer.

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