Nice Jump

I had never been on a winter camp before and despite some misgivings I went because Ron was bringing his snowmobiles. I had never been on a snowmobile and I didn't know if this chance was going to come again. I woke up early Saturday morning and once the sun was out I got my first ride on a snowmobile. Ron gave me some simple instructions and I hopped on and made my first cuts through the fresh snow. About 200 yards from our campground there lay a quarter to half-mile wide meadow that allowed for fast riding and was perfect for the beginning rider. I learnt how to lean and turn in the direction opposite of what I imagined. Even though it was cold and there was a bite in the air, each time I turned into the sun I beamed with joy and satisfaction.

After riding for some time, I was disappointed when I was called back to camp to give someone else a turn. I stopped with the nose of the snowmobile facing up the mountain. Because the next boy hadn't ridden before, Ron asked me to turn it around. I headed up the mountain and I banked to the left. While making a lovely turn I looked in front of me and realized that I was approaching a 30-40 foot drop off. In that moment, I panicked. I instinctively went full throttle instead of pressing the brake. I went off the cliff like I was trying to jump a canyon.

My friends tell me the jump was beautiful; the landing not so much. I soared through the air nearly twenty yards before plummeting to the snow. On impact, the machine compressed the powdery snow and it exploded all around me. As I stood up, it was like it was snowing again with the displaced snow settling all over and around me. I looked over to the camp and saw several people running toward me. I waved to indicate I was fine and then collapsed in a lump. I awoke in the rural hospital clinic. After a quick patch job until I could get stitched by a specialist in the city, we returned to the campsite.

The first thing I wanted to do was ride the snowmobile. Ron consented with my promise that I would stay on the flats and not go fast. Wanting to ride again I obliged. Just before I got back on the machine I felt intense anger and sincere relief. As I inspected the snowmobile, I realized that it had no mark on it whatsoever. The snow had cushioned the impact and it was absolutely no worse for the wear. Had I simply let go of the machine, I would have simply landed in the soft snow, but instead I held on and rammed my chin through the windshield. But forgiveness works wonders and I hopped on for a five minute final ride that remains a treasured memory to this day.