Days 8 & 9
Back on the grid. And boy do we have some catching up to do. It never fails, if we are going to have issues on the trail, it’s going to be in the most desolate part of the trip, and farthest from civilization.
Picking up where we left back at the Hotel Forestel, dinner was at 7pm and I know I had the chopped steak dinner, and I saw a couple others of those going around. Poor NFG Steve, he’s been stuck at the dinner table with The Wanderer, Robere’ and Stick. He has been subject to our nonsensical conversations, conspiracy theory’s and other ramblings. He must be somewhat enjoying it, he keeps coming back for more.
Our old friend Gaf, from New York, met us at the Hotel Forestel. We met Gaff probably about 12 years ago on the trail, at a Relaise for lunch. He/we have made a point to stay in touch with ole Gaff, as he comes to Quebec several times in the season, and our trips will usually coincide. He joined us for dinner and nice conversation, with his riding partner Steve.
Yesterday’s call time was 8:30am and we had about 190 miles to Clova. The first 40 miles or so were decent trails, some rough spots, nothing crazy. And that’s when the Darkside comes out. Action Dan, the point man in the train, always on the look out for danger, took us right into the beast.
Trying to find a smoother trail, he jumped down on the fresh powder access road that ran parallel with our snowmobile trail. But we had to cut across about 100 feet of snow covered log and rock infested natural area that was hidden by the deep snow. Action made it thru, Orange Helmet, right behind, and with some hesitation before he followed, committed to the maneuver, so Stick and Robere’ followed them in.
Orange Helmet exposed what I thought was a brown log, but the others tell me it was a big rock, that I then proceeded to hit with the left ski, almost got ejected, but recovered and, Robere’ hit it and got stuck. And bent his left A-Arm. Actually bent and cracked it. After a little help from his friends, they got him back on the access road with the other 3 sleds, while the smart ones stayed up on the marked trail. That’s when I noticed that my left ski was now positioned about 3 inches shorter than my right ski. My left A Arm was bent, but not as bad as Robere’s.
After some deliberation, self loathing, and a pep talk, down the trail we went. Until Robere’ went off the trail, not used to the new handling dynamics of his ski doo, and was buried on the side of the trail. Ski Doo Matt, with his heavy duty tow rope that has been used more than once on this trip, got his Ski Doo Expedition, the Big Girl, in position to give him a tug out. What he failed to observe was that the tow strap connected to Robere’s sled had come detached, and when he throttled up to tug, he then shot across the trail and got himself stuck on the other side of the trail.
I think I heard that Chip Nasty gave Ski Doo Matt a tug out of the snow, and somehow they got Robere’ unstuck, and down the trail they went to catch up with the 4 in the front that pulled over a mile or so up that trail, after we didn’t see headlights in our mirrors.
We had about 40 miles to get to Lac Fallon for fuel and a light lunch. Ski Doo Matt took the broken Robere’ sled, and put Robere’ on his Big Girl, and they took off down the trail to get ahead of the pack.
Lac Fallon is an old favorite for some of us. We have had a couple overnight stays here in the past and always enjoyed it. It is now under different ownership, and a bit of a different set up for lunch. They now have a cooler with supposedly made fresh sandwiches and soups, that you make your selection, and go to one of the 6 microwaves along the dining room wall, and heat your food up. Then pay at the counter for your fuel and food.
After our fairly quick lunch, Ski Doo Matt and Robere’ headed out ahead of the pack again to get to Clova, or bust trying.
After about 18 miles outside of Lac Fallon, the trails smoothed out, and we had an epic ride thru the Bush of Quebec. This area is desolate, middle of nothing, and you do not cross a road or railroad tracks for probably 40-50 miles. This is definitely the area you want to be trouble free.
We had a good ride the rest of the day, enjoying the trails, and making time. We arrived into Clova around 4:30pm and Ski Doo Matt and Robere’ beat us in by about 45 minutes. And our ole buddy Gaf was there too.
Apparently Gaf had an issue on the trail too. He too tried to jump off a section of the rough trail for the fresh powder of an ORV trail. Little did he know that the fresh powder was about 5 foot deep, and about 50 yards down the trail he was stuck. He had to belly crawl thru the deep snow back to the actual trail head where he had jumped off at.
He knew the Darkside Team was coming behind him, and he began talking to his maker to get him out of the situation he had gotten himself into. Fortunately, a couple young men on 154 inch tracks that are made for off trail and deep snow came along before us. They easily packed a snow trail to his sled, around his sled, and helped him unbury it. He was back on the trail thanks to their help, and he said he will be at church on Sunday.
Clova is a favorite of the Darkside, and our new riders really enjoy it as well. There is no cell service nor wifi in the lodge. There are, I think 36 residents of Clova, and between our group and the other small groups of riders in town for the night, we doubled the population.
There is a rustic lodge, with a gas pump out front, and the railroad runs along the side. Clova is stop on the CN rail, and we got to see the train come thru and drop off provisions.
The sleeping arrangements are in the old wooden schoolhouse that has been converted into a lounge area within the basement, and a few bedrooms, or a couch, and bedrooms on the second floor. Some rooms have their own bathroom facilities, and some don’t, some have bunk beds, some don’t, I don’t know where Truck Driver Brian ended up, but it’s definitely not the Holiday Inn. I do know Robere’ was delegated to the top bunk in our room that did have it’s own bathroom! There is wifi in the sleeping quarters, and when Orange Helmet heard that he looked at me, as if to suggest I could write the daily story there. Sorry Orange Helmet, I don’t work from home, I do my best work in the bar.
I heard from many that the dinner in Clova was the best on the trail so far. There were steaks with twice baked potatoes, chicken kabobs, and I don’t remember the other entre’s. For a starter there was the most delicious walleye chowder soup. And desert was a pineapple coconut cheesecake… I’m not normally a cheesecake person, but let me tell you something, I was pausing between bites to make it last. Great dinner and evening.
This morning’s snowmobiler breakfast of fried eggs, bacon or sausage, white or brown toast and diced potatoes was spot on, and we were seated at the long table that we were seated at last night.
The call time for ski’s up was 9am, but we were ready and on the trail by 8:40am. I made a point to ask Action Dan what his plan of destruction is today. The first 20 miles were freshly groomed, and after that we were on a graded logging road for about 50 miles. We were hopping on and off the graded road to get fresh powdered snow on the shoulders whenever we could to keep our machines cooled the best we could. I don’t believe anybody had overheating issues, but it was a quick ride.
At one point, on the trail, Hedgie came up with the idea to have Ski Doo Matt do a “toe adjustment” on Robere’s bent A Arm ski to help him stay a little more in control, while his head is in the clouds, going down the trail. It seemed to have some affect, he didn’t go off trail today, so kudos Hedgie on the thoughts.
In The Helmet With Stick, today we had a guest speaker. I wasn’t really thinking about much today, so at one of our breaks, Orange Helmet Craig was standing by me so I decided to see what he thinks about in his helmet. His response “well I’ve just been thinking, “Hope we are on the right trail” Note to self, don’t ask Orange Helmet what he’s thinking.
With only about 150 miles to our overnight destination of Club Notawissi, we were allowed by Orange Helmet to stop at Relaise Pensive for a lunch of all dressed cheeseburgers, onion rings and such. We also took advantage of some expensive fuel for our sleds. Fuel is usually about 2.5 times the price per liter more than when you are not in the Bush.
The friendly outgoing proprietor of the Relaise also had a note for Hedgie Phil. Our ole pal Gaf had already been in for fuel and a quick snack ahead of us, and left a sweet message, a phrase we use often on the trail, to let Hedgie know he was thinking of him.
After lunch we had a rider a bit under the weather, that needed to run at a slower pace in the back of the group. Orange Helmet, NFG Steve, Chip Nasty, Wiki Rob and I don’t recall who else, rode in a second pack at the rear, while Action Dan took off with the kids for a fun 50 mile ride to Notawissi. With the long straight aways, slight curves and extremely smooth trails, and the kids not having adult supervision, we made the best of it. I have the feeling Action Dan is going to get a lecture tonight, behind closed doors, from Dad in the Orange Helmet.
Club Notawissi is a beautiful resort with cabins for our overnight stay. We have cabins 1 & 2, eight riders per cabin. Each cabin has a nice sized community room, with kitchen, two 6 person tables, a couple couches and a wood burning stove. There are 4 rooms off the hallway, with 2 beds per room, and each room has it’s own shower and bathroom facilities. I am currently in the lodge/dining room/bar doing my best work, that overlooks the lake with a beautiful mountain backdrop in the distance.
I am anticipating a great dinner. A young man with an acoustic guitar is setting up shop, so it appears we may have some live music soon.
I apologize in advance for the blank spaces and lack of photos. The wifi is stifiling my ability to download/upload pictures, and i can’t figure out how to remove the image boxes, and I am getting a bit frustrated. This is what you get. And I’ve actually got a lot of good pictures I’d like to share with you. Sucks to be you.
Bye for now,
Cheers,
Stick