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‘My Perfect Place’
StoryDiscussion‘My Perfect Place’
By SCOTT FAIMAN elkodaily.com | Posted: Friday, April 22, 2011 9:57 pm | (0) Comments
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Scott Faiman catches air coming off a jump while snowmobiling in Lamoille Canyon. .
..Saturday morning: Open the shades, Nevada blue skies, white-capped Ruby Dome on the horizon; a “just right” cup of coffee. Can life get any better? I think it can. Load up the sled, a quick stop for gas, and off to the canyon.
About 30 minutes later, after a smokin’ fast bump run down the road, I’ll find myself pulling a nasty long steep uphill to 11,400 feet, and I’m there — “My peaceful place.”
Upon shutdown of my sled, I hear something I haven’t heard all week — nothing; nothing but silence, and it really is golden. It’s here, on top of the Rubies, where my mind is clear and my soul is healed. Leaning back against my pack, feet over the bars, arms crossed on my chest, eyes to the sky, the weekly recharge begins.
Every now and then when we’re in the midst of an inversion, Spring Creek and Ruby Valley will be cloaked in a blanket of freezing fog, but at 11,000 feet the sky is clear and the air is warm and soothing. Tranquility has its place in this fast-paced world; I believe everyone should have some exposure to its healing powers.
After a typical early morning recharge, I’ll hear others, the sound of well-tuned two strokes reverberating off the canyon walls and the dull thud of a helicopter lifting heli-skiers to nearly 12,000 feet. Let the fun begin! Lamoille Canyon is quite a melting pot of winter activity. I have a great many snowmobiling friends and acquaintances I ride with weekly, I don’t know where many of them live, what they do for work, or even what their first names are, although they all have a nickname. This may sound a little odd to some, not knowing their names or even some of their faces forever hidden behind goggles and full face helmets, but all things considered it doesn’t make much difference, we’re all there for the same thing, to challenge the mountain, live for the moment, and enjoy God’s creations.
After a morning greeting, Adrenaline Addict, Grumpy, Jumping Bean, Tabasco, Butt-Crack, Powdercrew, Nutter, Elvis, Blazer and Two Stroke are off and running, riding one of the most fantastic snowmobiling destinations on the planet. There are not many places blessed with asphalt to the snow for six months a year, combined with some of the most extreme, technical terrain of anyplace in the snowbelt. Lamoille’s reputation for extreme riding has caught the attention of many snowmobiling movie makers. Lamoille Canyon is a favorite. I love taking the lead and trying to scrape off as many riders as possible on my quest to the next mountain peak. When it comes to guiding I have deservingly earned a bad reputation.
My goal on a ride is not to wait for the weak and weaker to catch up, but to be the first to arrive at the predetermined destination (just a little competitive since my birthday). My secret goals are trying to out-ride the others, and personal survival. If I make it to the summit unscathed, it was a great ride; if others survive, I like to call that a bonus.
A little twisted possibly, but what crazy fun it is. If some don’t arrive, they are quickly labeled MIA. Backtracking through our trenched out lines looking for stragglers, we sometimes discover a wee-bit of carnage for those who experienced a blip in riding talent.
During a typical work week we are bombarded with what I call over-information, such as cell phones, emails, texts, radios and telephones. I don’t know if all consider this over-information, but if I break down how much of this over-communication was really necessary, it has positively become overkill. Leaving this all behind is what makes for a sweet ride; the focus is now all about dominating the terrain, riding your sled to the limit, and of course, trying to leave your buddies in your snowdust.
Since childhood my heart has had a need to “Get away from it all.” Stress relief may describe it best, and I can never seem to get enough. The Ruby Mountains are the best place I’ve ever found to let it all hang out.
Snowmobiles of today have become engineering marvels. They are lightweight, have altitude compensating fuel injection, 2.4-inch tall mountain climbing paddle tracks, all coupled with excellent reliability and fuel economy.
Two to 3 feet of snow used to be almost too deep to ride; with modern technology between your legs it’s just right for another great day. Carbureted sleds of yesteryear would go rich and run poorly as the powder slowly plugged air intake filters. Fuelies of today compensate for altitude and lack of breathability until a time comes where you can knock the accumulation from the filters.
Snowmobiling is a sport that can be equally enjoyed by all age groups. For me, a half-century old is just around the corner, simply tailor your ride to your skill level. If you’re not interested in attempting a make it or break it chute, or a little cornice drop of 20 feet or more, there may be a chicken trail that will land you at the same destination. You’ll see a lot of smiling faces and life-loving people on a typical day in the canyon — another bonus.
Sledding is not a hobby, it’s a religion. I’ll see you on the summit, “My peaceful place.”
Editor’s note: If conditions remain consistent, Faiman believes there could be snowmobiling in the Ruby Mountains into June.
‘My Perfect Place’
StoryDiscussion‘My Perfect Place’
By SCOTT FAIMAN elkodaily.com | Posted: Friday, April 22, 2011 9:57 pm | (0) Comments
Font Size
efault font sizeLarger font size. Submitted
Scott Faiman catches air coming off a jump while snowmobiling in Lamoille Canyon. .
..Saturday morning: Open the shades, Nevada blue skies, white-capped Ruby Dome on the horizon; a “just right” cup of coffee. Can life get any better? I think it can. Load up the sled, a quick stop for gas, and off to the canyon.
About 30 minutes later, after a smokin’ fast bump run down the road, I’ll find myself pulling a nasty long steep uphill to 11,400 feet, and I’m there — “My peaceful place.”
Upon shutdown of my sled, I hear something I haven’t heard all week — nothing; nothing but silence, and it really is golden. It’s here, on top of the Rubies, where my mind is clear and my soul is healed. Leaning back against my pack, feet over the bars, arms crossed on my chest, eyes to the sky, the weekly recharge begins.
Every now and then when we’re in the midst of an inversion, Spring Creek and Ruby Valley will be cloaked in a blanket of freezing fog, but at 11,000 feet the sky is clear and the air is warm and soothing. Tranquility has its place in this fast-paced world; I believe everyone should have some exposure to its healing powers.
After a typical early morning recharge, I’ll hear others, the sound of well-tuned two strokes reverberating off the canyon walls and the dull thud of a helicopter lifting heli-skiers to nearly 12,000 feet. Let the fun begin! Lamoille Canyon is quite a melting pot of winter activity. I have a great many snowmobiling friends and acquaintances I ride with weekly, I don’t know where many of them live, what they do for work, or even what their first names are, although they all have a nickname. This may sound a little odd to some, not knowing their names or even some of their faces forever hidden behind goggles and full face helmets, but all things considered it doesn’t make much difference, we’re all there for the same thing, to challenge the mountain, live for the moment, and enjoy God’s creations.
After a morning greeting, Adrenaline Addict, Grumpy, Jumping Bean, Tabasco, Butt-Crack, Powdercrew, Nutter, Elvis, Blazer and Two Stroke are off and running, riding one of the most fantastic snowmobiling destinations on the planet. There are not many places blessed with asphalt to the snow for six months a year, combined with some of the most extreme, technical terrain of anyplace in the snowbelt. Lamoille’s reputation for extreme riding has caught the attention of many snowmobiling movie makers. Lamoille Canyon is a favorite. I love taking the lead and trying to scrape off as many riders as possible on my quest to the next mountain peak. When it comes to guiding I have deservingly earned a bad reputation.
My goal on a ride is not to wait for the weak and weaker to catch up, but to be the first to arrive at the predetermined destination (just a little competitive since my birthday). My secret goals are trying to out-ride the others, and personal survival. If I make it to the summit unscathed, it was a great ride; if others survive, I like to call that a bonus.
A little twisted possibly, but what crazy fun it is. If some don’t arrive, they are quickly labeled MIA. Backtracking through our trenched out lines looking for stragglers, we sometimes discover a wee-bit of carnage for those who experienced a blip in riding talent.
During a typical work week we are bombarded with what I call over-information, such as cell phones, emails, texts, radios and telephones. I don’t know if all consider this over-information, but if I break down how much of this over-communication was really necessary, it has positively become overkill. Leaving this all behind is what makes for a sweet ride; the focus is now all about dominating the terrain, riding your sled to the limit, and of course, trying to leave your buddies in your snowdust.
Since childhood my heart has had a need to “Get away from it all.” Stress relief may describe it best, and I can never seem to get enough. The Ruby Mountains are the best place I’ve ever found to let it all hang out.
Snowmobiles of today have become engineering marvels. They are lightweight, have altitude compensating fuel injection, 2.4-inch tall mountain climbing paddle tracks, all coupled with excellent reliability and fuel economy.
Two to 3 feet of snow used to be almost too deep to ride; with modern technology between your legs it’s just right for another great day. Carbureted sleds of yesteryear would go rich and run poorly as the powder slowly plugged air intake filters. Fuelies of today compensate for altitude and lack of breathability until a time comes where you can knock the accumulation from the filters.
Snowmobiling is a sport that can be equally enjoyed by all age groups. For me, a half-century old is just around the corner, simply tailor your ride to your skill level. If you’re not interested in attempting a make it or break it chute, or a little cornice drop of 20 feet or more, there may be a chicken trail that will land you at the same destination. You’ll see a lot of smiling faces and life-loving people on a typical day in the canyon — another bonus.
Sledding is not a hobby, it’s a religion. I’ll see you on the summit, “My peaceful place.”
Editor’s note: If conditions remain consistent, Faiman believes there could be snowmobiling in the Ruby Mountains into June.
