This is related to absolutely nothing. Just me talking.
20 years ago I bought Hubby a new snowmobile. Was driving home one snowy night and big flakes were falling from the sky and the overhead streetlight illuminated a wintery scene of some men dragging a snowmobile into the back of a truck, outside the Polaris dealership. A lightbulb went off in my head and a voice from somwhere said, buy your husband a snowmobile. I wheeled back into town, took every cent I had to my name out of the bank in cash, went to the Polaris man and plunked it down and said "I will give you this, for that blue one over there." He rubbed his chin and made noises, but a worker dragged it into the back to install the high altitude jets, so I knew the deal was in the bag. I bought that particular model because Hubby likes blue things. Not green or red. Blue. Always make your sled choices based on colour. This is important.
Back then, that was a spanky sled! And he was a bit of a legend on the mountain. Not because of his sledding skills, which aren't bad. But because he was the 'guy whose wife had bought him a new sled'. Word got out around the valley and for a couple years every winter I'd have the owners of at least 4 sled shops making special calls to my house to invite me personally to come to their new machine display and oh, bring my husband!
BUt as time went by horse power got bigger, tracks got longer and we were building a home, raising a child and the sled got old. He could keep up with the new sleds speed wise, but with his shorter track could not manage the snow conditions they could. He went on the mountain less and less as it's no fun watching where everyone else can go and you can't.
This past wknd, after years of wanting, another sled got hauled home. Not a new one! But a pretty zippy unit none-the-less. It has reverse! Raised, tilt steering and throttles on BOTH handles, left and right. Modified up the ying yang, with a track that sticks way out the back of the machine. It's rumbling and smoking in the back of the truck as Hubby undoes the tiedowns. I am feeling worried. His flat deck is quite high off the ground and the ramps he used to use in his old pick up, are at a precariously steep angle. He has never driven a machine of this body style or this much juice. I squeak my apprehension. He waves me away with a macho grunt.
He mounts the rumbling beast and shifts into reverse then...in a motion very smooth and skilled, he gives it a little gas. A little too much gas. THe machine shoots backwards at an incredible speed! Hubby is thrust forward over the handlebars face first onto the hood. This forward motion does exactly what our sledders here know it does, it gives the sled more gas. With his butt leading the way and his face on the hood, the sled shoots off the truck, it doesn't even make contact with the ramps, flies through the air, smacks the ground and screams backwards where it is abruptly stopped by smashing into a stump. This finally slams Hubby's butt back onto the seat. He looks over at me slowly with his mouth hanging open. "Holy (rhymes with spit)" he says, stepping off shakily. "Don't let the kid drive this." he says wide eyed, as he wobbles off to roll up the tie downs.
Ah...when middle aged men think hey are still 25. What's a gal to do? Check the insurance policy, step number one and hope he's grown some sense over the years, but so far, it's not looking good.
20 years ago I bought Hubby a new snowmobile. Was driving home one snowy night and big flakes were falling from the sky and the overhead streetlight illuminated a wintery scene of some men dragging a snowmobile into the back of a truck, outside the Polaris dealership. A lightbulb went off in my head and a voice from somwhere said, buy your husband a snowmobile. I wheeled back into town, took every cent I had to my name out of the bank in cash, went to the Polaris man and plunked it down and said "I will give you this, for that blue one over there." He rubbed his chin and made noises, but a worker dragged it into the back to install the high altitude jets, so I knew the deal was in the bag. I bought that particular model because Hubby likes blue things. Not green or red. Blue. Always make your sled choices based on colour. This is important.
Back then, that was a spanky sled! And he was a bit of a legend on the mountain. Not because of his sledding skills, which aren't bad. But because he was the 'guy whose wife had bought him a new sled'. Word got out around the valley and for a couple years every winter I'd have the owners of at least 4 sled shops making special calls to my house to invite me personally to come to their new machine display and oh, bring my husband!
BUt as time went by horse power got bigger, tracks got longer and we were building a home, raising a child and the sled got old. He could keep up with the new sleds speed wise, but with his shorter track could not manage the snow conditions they could. He went on the mountain less and less as it's no fun watching where everyone else can go and you can't.
This past wknd, after years of wanting, another sled got hauled home. Not a new one! But a pretty zippy unit none-the-less. It has reverse! Raised, tilt steering and throttles on BOTH handles, left and right. Modified up the ying yang, with a track that sticks way out the back of the machine. It's rumbling and smoking in the back of the truck as Hubby undoes the tiedowns. I am feeling worried. His flat deck is quite high off the ground and the ramps he used to use in his old pick up, are at a precariously steep angle. He has never driven a machine of this body style or this much juice. I squeak my apprehension. He waves me away with a macho grunt.
He mounts the rumbling beast and shifts into reverse then...in a motion very smooth and skilled, he gives it a little gas. A little too much gas. THe machine shoots backwards at an incredible speed! Hubby is thrust forward over the handlebars face first onto the hood. This forward motion does exactly what our sledders here know it does, it gives the sled more gas. With his butt leading the way and his face on the hood, the sled shoots off the truck, it doesn't even make contact with the ramps, flies through the air, smacks the ground and screams backwards where it is abruptly stopped by smashing into a stump. This finally slams Hubby's butt back onto the seat. He looks over at me slowly with his mouth hanging open. "Holy (rhymes with spit)" he says, stepping off shakily. "Don't let the kid drive this." he says wide eyed, as he wobbles off to roll up the tie downs.
Ah...when middle aged men think hey are still 25. What's a gal to do? Check the insurance policy, step number one and hope he's grown some sense over the years, but so far, it's not looking good.
. He'll be just fine, men mature and they realize how things have changed too. Happy sledding for the man!! Have a wonderful and awesome day, CynthiaM. 
