snowmachining w/the 'rents
Well, here I am at mom & dad's, writing my entry on their little webtv. Had a blast yesterday- we went snowmachining (er, "snowmobiling" for you lower 48 folk). It was minus 10 degrees F yesterday first thing in the AM and so dad didn't think we'd do much of anything, but it warmed up considerably later on in the day.
We got our gear on- mom decided to come too, which was nice. She hadn't been on a machine in years. Dad made mom and I wear helmets, which I HATE, because everybody knows, only city-folk, speed demons wear helmets. Oh well, to make him happy, I put on the helmet. Here is the big point: HE LET ME DRIVE HIS SNOWMACHINE. Never, ever has he done this. I had the cadillac of rides. He and mom rode the older ones, which really aren't that bad because he keeps them in such good shape.
The sun was out and the ride was beautiful. We left the house and rode single file to the pond where I used to catch frogs as a kid in summer. The snow was just sparkling and beautiful. Someone has done incredible work and actually made little signs labeling all the trails that connect together, so it's not easy to get lost. We rode for miles. Every so often dad would stop and point out something, like reminding mom and I that the trail we were on was the first one we used to get to our cabin when I was little. I thought about it and remembered being a child and being pulled in that metal sled- shaped like a dogsled- but made of metal and wood. I would have to sit in it and be pulled the hour or so it took to get to the cabin, because the dog refused to sit in the sled alone, and it was the only way to get her to the cabin with us. So, I sat in the sled on the bumpy ride, the dog snuggled up to me, both of us covered in a blanket.
That was probably from age 8 to 16 or so- that's alot of bumpy rides.
Anyway, yesterday we stopped at a bluff overlooking the river, turned off the machines and just sat in the quiet for awhile, watching. It was peaceful. It was just what I need.