I was just thinking about how some of the worst nights of riding have turned out to be the funniest and most memorable.

With the crappy season last year we found ourselves trailering farther for a ride. My buddy and I took his new (to him) Mach and my Formula up to the Mitchell - Listowell area for an evening ride. This was our first outing together of the season.

We rode only about 30 Kms to Atwood to get a coffee and when leaving did our usual WOT rip. I looked back expecting to see him tear by but I couldn't see him. I asked on the radio where he went and he answered it broke, it broke over and over. I went back and had a look. It laid out a oil streak in the snow and tore off the entire lower half of the chain case, tensioner and all.

Luckily we were on the edge of town close to the road so we left it to go get the truck. We had to ride two up on my one up so off we went. I could hardly turn with him squishing me. About 10kms along my sled starts to loose power and stops. We get it going again but then stops again. This repeats several more times. While standing on the side of the trail, around 1:00 AM trying to figure out what to do a fella comes up with a Yamaha touring sled. He offers to give my buddy a ride back to Mitchel. We thought less weight the better. So off they went. This guy opens up the big Yami and disappears. I had my Formula running as hard as I could darting in and out of the loose snow trying to keep the slides cool, I'm running WOT in the straights to catch up. He keeps the same pace in the bush. My buddy calls me on the radio and says the driver is nuts, and realizes here he is riding on the back of a strangers sled, middle of the night, ripping through the woods way to fast. About 30 seconds later he comes back on and says something like it gets worse, I can smell alcohol back here. Then the fella suddenly stopped in the middle of no where and let my buddy off and sped away. When I caught up we laughed our heads off. I was starting to think he was going to get out of radio range. We were actually glad to be back to predicament number one. We still laugh over that night. Standing in the middle of nowhere with cell phone in hand trying to figure how to instruct a cab to the closest road for a ride. Very tough when you have no idea where you are. The more dire the situation the more we laughed. By the time we picked up the sled and headed home it was near morning and we had only gone 60 k.

I still laugh when we talk about it.

Have a great day!

Scott

This story goes back a ways.

In 1970 my Dad, and my Uncle bought identical 335 Olympics. One great sunday afternoon, my cousin and I decided we'd do some "Cornice Jumping" over a rim of a gravel pit into what we thought was about a 6 foot drop into about 6 foot of powder snow drift. We were 13 and 12 years old at the time. My younger cousin wanted first go, so I stopped to the side to watch.

Doug took about a 50 foot run, and nosed over the rim, the Doo landed at about a 45 degree angle until all but the seatback was burried. :D It get's worse.

We were about 2 miles from home, afraid of what our Dads would Doo to us! Doug got a bright idea about then to use the rope I had stowed under the seat to try to pull it back up out of the hole! ??? Well,, it might work. So we tied off the rope to the back of my sled, and Doug huffed and puffed his way through the deep snow, and yelled up to me to give it a go.

I eased ahead till the slack was out, then gunned the Oly for all she was worth! :doh: Now I'm stuck! It took a while, but I finally dug myself out, and went to consult with the originator of this masterful plan. Doug just shrugged, and said "I guess you better jerk it then".

I got ready, leaving about 6 or seven feet of slack in the rope, then put that throttle to the pin! Boom!

I hit the end of the slack, nearly throwing myself over the windshield, and just then over my head I see something yellow and black fly by and land directly in front of me,,, running full throttle, I naturely run over it. :cussing: It was (Most of) the backrest from Uncle's sled! :doh: It seems that "The Master Mind" had wrapped the rope around the backrest a couple of times, and we decided together perhaps we had a tad too much slackin the rope. :D

Oh the innocence of youth! (Or was that ignorance? *Scratchin' Head*)