I've grown up around snowmobiles the past seventeen years of my life, and I’ve learned a lot about them. As a baby, I was a motorhead. Every time I heard an engine start, I'd be there. I especially loved snowmobile rides. My Dad and I have a relationship many other sons and fathers do not have. We are close to each other, and enjoy doing many of the same activities. As I grew up, I grew into a hardcore motorhead. More and more, I wanted to ride snowmobiles. As I started riding fast, my Dad warned me about the danger that came with accelerated MPH. He always told me someday you will crash and burn. I realized the danger that came with riding snowmobiles, but I was addicted to going fast, and so was my Dad.

    It was a brisk Minnesota winter evening in Park Rapids when my Dad, Jeff Voigt, Ean Voigt and I decided to take a snowmobile ride to Ice Cracking Lodge for supper. I slipped bibs on and threw on my jacket and helmet. We pulled the sleds out of the shop and warmed them up. I was greeted by the sweet smell of race gas burning in the pistons of my Arctic cat snowmobile. My muffler revved up as if it were a spaceship getting ready to take off to the moon. We took off toward Ice Cracking. The ride was around eighty miles long, mostly night riding.
    I took off screaming away, chasing after Ean as our fathers trailed closely behind us. The snow dust in my face, the cold winter bit my cheeks. As the sun is going down my vision slowly disappears. The only path I follow is lead by the headlights of my snowmobile. Trying to keep up, I take every corner faster. I look behind me and see my dad struggling to keep up with the rest of us. We’re flying down the home stretch, approaching Two Inlets to top off with fuel and grab a pop, maybe a candy bar to snack on.

    As we left Two Inlets, I noticed a change in the trail conditions. The temperature was dropping, and the trails were getting worse. Every corner whooped out and bumpy. The snow on the trails seemed to disappear and rocks were popping up, making it hard on the snowmobiles and the riders. We kept riding, trying to go fast, pushing ourselves. Some corners showed brown gravel with no snow, making it hard to hook up in the corners and use the brakes. I started to adjust to the riding conditions to restrain from crashing or causing an accident. After riding for an hour and a half, I figured we were getting close. Jeff led the pack with Ean chasing closely and my dad and I followed up the rear. We traveled quickly through the rough dark wooded trails, eventually popping out from the trees and approaching the Ice Cracking Lodge.

    The Ice Cracking Lodge is a fairly nice bar. We took a seat in a booth and ordered some big juicy burgers. As we waited for our food to come, we talked about the trail conditions and how there isn't much snow on the trails. Without snow, it's hard to steer, and most importantly hard to get traction to stop. We got our burgers and start to chow down, the lovely smell of beef, bacon, and cheese greeted my nostrils. The burgers were as hot as the sun. The sweet taste of root beer cooled my mouth and washed the food down my esophagus. After we finished eating, we were itching to get back onto the trail and head home for the night. We had to top off with fuel at the Lodge so we could make it home. I revved my two stroke motor to warm it up for the ride home. I heard the pipes cracking and screaming as I touched the throttle. We took off riding, back into the deep dark wooded forest.

    I rode fast throughout the woods because I wanted to get home. I was cold and tired. We stopped at a four way trail crossing to take a bathroom break. We were in the middle of nowhere at this time. Leading the pack, Jeff took off in front, with my Dad close behind him and Ean and I on the rear. I was following my Dad when I saw a sharp corner ahead. We were going about eighty MPH and I saw his brake light shine like fire, not being able to get traction to stop because of the trail conditions. I see him go right over the edge of the trail.

    “Boom,” lights out.

    I stopped right away, got off my snowmobile, scrambling, I looked for my Dad. I saw his snowmobile pile driven into a big pine tree, but no trace of him. I called his name ten times and didn't get a response. I finally found him fifteen feet away from where his snowmobile was driven into the tree. He was still breathing, but knocked out cold. After two minutes he woke up and was in a lot of pain; he could barely stand up. Here we were in the middle of nowhere with a pretty bad injury. I was scared. I didn't know what to do, it all happened so quick. We had to get him out of the woods and to the closest road so someone could pick him and a rush him to the ER.

    It probably wasn't the best idea to call my mother, but that was my only option. I called her and told her the closest road to us and the urgency to meet us ASAP. We got my Dad up and put him on the back of Jeff’s sled to haul him out of the woods. Since we were ten miles to the nearest road, we had to go fifteen mph the whole way so it wasn't too rough. It seemed like the longest thirty minutes of my entire life. On the ride, I was trying to process everything at one time. I was getting flashbacks from what I witnessed during the accident. Finally, we arrived at the road, but we had to wait another half hour for my mom to show up. We were in the Ponsford area. At last, my emotionally concerned mom showed up to rush my dad to the hospital.

    The longest snowmobile ride was that ride going back to the shop. I sent up a few prayers on that ride home. I didn’t care about driving my snowmobile on gravel, pavement, or rocks. I  wanted to be in my bed wishing this was some bad dream. When we got back to the shop, we put snowmobile gear away. For the night I went to Jeff and Ean’s house , as my Mom and my Dad were in the ER. I went to bed that night not knowing the condition my Dad was in.

    I woke up the next morning receiving a text from my Mom saying my Dad broke nine ribs, had a collapsed lung, and a separated shoulder. His snowmobile was ditched deep in the woods. Jeff, Ean, and I drove a big twelve passenger van with no seats back into the trails until we reached the wrecked sled. We winched the sled out of the trees into the van, and picked up all the debris laying everywhere. We got lucky there wasn't a lot of snow on the trails so we could drive in there with a vehicle.

    I learned a lot from this accident. When the conditions are bad like that, I have to slow down. It made me a smarter rider. I learned that bad crashes can happen. The images that this experience left with me will not be forgotten. The scare, the memories, will always be there when the flashbacks hit me.