I like getting stuck. No, really I do. See, getting stuck
usually happens for one of two reasons for me. The first is that I was faced
with that split-second decision of taking the easy route or the hard route and
I chose the hard route. To me, that is the only way to get better. If you don’t
get out of your comfort zone you will never be able to yell down at your
buddies at the bottom of the hill, “What happened down there boys?”
The second is that I just screwed up. This usually happens
when I’m tired and just plain get lazy on the sled. I would like to think for
the most part that when I get stuck it’s because I chose the hard route, but
every now and then I get stuck because I just messed up. But after riding with more
than 125 diehard sledders last year in some of the craziest conditions I have
ever seen, I have now heard a few more excuses why people think they got stuck:
Rider: My ski hit that tree and I had to let off.
Me: Dude! You let off for that little thing?
Rider: I was following too close to the guy in front of me
and had to stop.
Me: So let me get this straight: You didn’t think your buddy
would jump clean out of the way, allowing you a seat full of perfectly good
traction? C’mon now.
Rider: I could not physically go any farther! You’re killing
Me: Dude! We haven’t even gone anywhere yet! I think I can
still see the trailer.
Rider: Man this snow is so much different here, I wouldn’t
have got stuck back home.
Me: Um yeah … remember on the phone when you said you hope
we get to ride in four to five feet of powder? This is what two feet of Colorado powder is like.
Rider: I wish I would have gotten my 800 with a 162 instead
of this stupid 151 (or 153 or 155).
Me: If you would like, I can go grab my M6 with a 141 and
show you that it isn’t the sled’s fault.
So getting stuck is just a part of boondocking in my book. Just
be sure when I come up to give you a hand you have your excuse ready and it
better not be because you took the hard line … that one is mine.
Let it snow.