Well, the trail to Chibougamau was closed. But is that rule…or a suggestion?
Once they all dried out from the hot tub, last night, we had a nice dinner at around 7pm. Choices were steak, ribs and I don’t recall the other options. I do remember that The Wanderer Dylan, Robere’ and I teamed up and shared our appetizers… The Wanderer ordered the Fondu, I ordered the turkey & Ham egg rolls, and Robere’ ordered the escargot and the three of us had our own smorgasbord for appetizers. AND Robere’ also ordered the FRENCH Onion Soup, which had a very nice presentation with a slice of homemade bread splayed across the crock and the provolone cheese was melted over the top! I couldn’t really give a fair tasting as the bread had some sort of seeds on the crust and my seed allergy would have either ended my trip or it would have ended me, but I did sample the broth and it was right up there.
This morning’s ski’s up time was set for 8:30 am. We had our snowmobilers breakfast buffet (what is up with the buffets on this trip?) and were ready for the trail by 8:15! This group is really overachieving on their start times.
As I stated yesterday, the guys were putting a plan together for today’s route. Trail 93 is essentially closed according to the FCMQ website says the trail is closed, the Tourism Board says it is closed, but the local club says it is passable but has not been groomed since February 12! Thats an interesting proposition to this group of violators. Craig and I definitely had our trepidation about still heading to Hotel Nordic in Chibougamau, we have been on week old, wind blown, drifted trails, and they are not as fun as this group thinks if it’s anything like we have had to do a time or two prior. But the Team was ready, so maintain the plan. My morning pep talk this morning for the group consisted of the following “ I believe I now know how the crew of the Edmund Fitzgerald felt on the morning of November 10, 1975… the lake is calm and we think it’s just another day”. Buckle up boys, this could get interesting.
The trails were freshly groomed for the first 25 miles. Too bad we were going in the wrong direction. Back towards Relaise 22. Fortunately, The Wandered jumped up thru the pack to bring the directionally challenged Action Dan to a halt on the trail. Connecticut Jim, The Wanderer and Craig put a makeshift plan together to use some local trails to get us back on the 93 North trail that we need. This was just adding to the running thoughts in my mind about how our day was going to be.
My wife doesn’t understand my brain waves most of the time, and this just may be another example of why. I don’t listen to music all day like the rest of these clowns, it’s just me and my brain in my helmet all day, and boy do we get carried away. I start thinking, well, if the trail is bad, and we break trail all afternoon, it is going to be LATE getting in. Then the thinking goes to , we could end up being the Donner Clan. Ok, so we get messed up and have to hunker in on the trail, someone isn’t going to make it. Ok, so now let’s think about who we need… We need Action Dan and Orange Helmet to guide us, we need The Wanderer and his GPS, we need Connecticut Jim and Yamaha Kevin for our medical, we need Ski Doo Matt, for his unauthorized ski doo repair, Wiki Rob is safe, and we are obviously going to need ME, because we need this stupid effing blog. We don’t really need a drywaller, so Old Man Ron is going to be the one we eat.
The reason the trail is closed about 100 miles out of Chibougamau is, as I said yesterday, there is a bridge that is not suitable to some agency. At around the 55 mile mark, which was supposed to have been the 25 mile mark, we topped off our sleds at the last fuel opportunity for 153 miles, and I know this to be an accurate number. After we fuel, and grab a gas station sandwich for lunch, as we are standing around I mention to The Wanderer, Orange Helmet and Action Dan my latest thought process, as mentioned above, and I tell them I now can’t look at Ron without seeing a flame grilled pork chop standing by his sled.
And down the trail we went. The next 50 miles were still groomed, and type of trail that has spoiled us in Quebec. We made periodic stops every 35-40 miles for a quick rest, smoke em if you got em, and short banter. The Pork Chop reference started filtering thru the group, and more ideas were hatched. At one point, Pork Chops wingman, Chip Nasty, was privy to our conversation, and the Wanderer suggested, that he may be the better choice if things get awry.
Down the trail we went. The next stop’s conversation went back to our eat or be eaten choice, and it was tossed out that Old Man Ron may be the better choice, he is already seasoned with all the Tabasco sauce he uses.
Down the trail we went. We finally crossed the out of order bridge, that was marked with orange ribbons and skull and cross bones signs. No problem. The trail was now not groomed. But not nearly as bad as Craig and I were prepared for. Fluffy snow, and we were able to maintain our speed and momentum. This day isn’t going to be as bad as I prepared for.
At the next rest stop, Stick wandered back to the end of the sled pack to conversate with Ski Doo Matt, who rides right behind Old Man Ron/PorkChop. I asked how things were going, and Ski Doo responded, just keeping dinner safe.
As the miles on the odometers started nearing 175 for the day, at the next rest break the Yamaha riders used their fuel cans on their sleds to get some extra juice, because they knew they would not make it to the 206 mile mark where the fueling station is.
As the miles clicked upward nearing 200, all the sleds were slowing falling out of the pack, out of fuel, to use our spare fuel to get in. Baby Boy, Truck Driver Brian and Stick found out our sleds can go 150 miles even, and they are D-U-N, out of fuel.
We got fuel at the 206 mile mark, and only had 8 miles to go. And it was only 4:50pm! We are going to be in, no camping on the trail, and no pork chops.
Apparently, Chip Nasty had another tumble on his new ski doo. Coming into town, we have to criss cross the main road coming in to town, run along side the road for a couple hundred yards and hop back on the trail. Sometimes we have to go across both road lanes to ride the “trail” and cross back over. On one of the road crossings, the skis dont turn on the asphalt to begin, with so you usually go in a diagnol line to the snow bank across the road, hit it, gently, and turn from there. Well, apparently, Nasty hit the snow embankment with a little too much gusto, and rolled it over. They were too busy getting the sled upright before any traffic came along to get a picture.
It was a great day, and from my perspective, everyone is having a great time. We are now all gathered in the Mid Evil themed bar of the Hotel Nordic, and dinner should be soon.
Bye for now,
Cheers
Stick