Everyone has been asking "How was your trip?" expecting an answer like Fun! or We had such a great time! But the only answer I could give was "It was absolutely horrific, I hated it, I hate Ichigan, I think we should sell Ichigan to Canada! But because of who I was with, we had an absolute BLAST!"
You're probably wondering why a snowmobile trip is named "The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald" and I honestly can't say that I blame ya. Dumb name for a snowmobile trip, but let me explain a little leading up to the trip.
12 guys, off on an annual adventure in the Upper Peninsula of Ichigan yet again this year. Pat, Erick, Danny, Eddie, Timmy, Robert, Chop, Jimmy, Mike, JT, Mikey and Myself looking to put about 300 miles of snow under our sleds during the days; and spending our time at night drinking some beers, telling stories, and spinning a top. You'll notice the lack of the word "Uncle" in the guest list, "The Uncles" were unable to make the trip this year due to work schedules. That means Pat and I are the "adults" this trip. If that's not a giant red flag to stay home right there...... We didn't listen.
I inherited the "lead dog" spot last year. I'm very proud of that spot, its my job to help plan the trips, which routes, etc. If things go bad, as they sometimes will, it's also my job to get us all back home. In my last blog, the "pre-trip" blog, if you will, titled "Ichigan, Take II" I said "When I START with "friends" like this, I have no choice. I'll bring them home, with a story." Well, we're home. And I have one HELL of a story to tell.
Now would be a great time to play this song, written by Gordon Lightfoot in 1976:
The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald
I got a record player for Christmas in 1976 and played this 45 over and over and over again, until I wore out the needle. I've always loved this song. So, while thinking about the upcoming trip, I thought about our "long haul" day. We usually just go play on the trails, from Curtis to Newberry and back on the first day, kind of a shake down cruise and to get settled in. Saturday is our long haul day, remember Paradise from last year? Yeah, so do we. Well, this year for the long haul I come up with this little gem:
Let's take it a step further, and not only ride to Paradise again, but about 40 miles North of Paradise, to Whitefish Point. That's where the bell from The Edmund Fitzgerald is, in the shipwreck museum. Now at this same point in time, but unbeknownst to me, Danny had stumbled upon this song, and took it as a personal goal to make his brother Eddie crazy with it by playing it over and over and over and over.
The last trip of The Edmund Fitzgerald:
My idea for the long haul, to go see Edmund Fitzgerald, highlighted in bright green:
We didn't listen.
So now we have two separate crews getting ready to join forces in the UP. One actually contemplating riding to the Shipwreck Museum, the other actually contemplating making each other crazy with a song written about a shipwreck. Both working independently together, but each unaware of the other's relationship with a ship at the bottom of Lake Superior at this point. The days leading up to the trip were as usual, massive thrash on all the sleds getting them ready to ride. Ride, Sally ride......
Wed, Feb 24, 2016. D-Day
Sleds are all loaded, gear is not. Hectic doesn't even begin to describe the hornets nest we've created for ourselves, yet again. The crew decided to do me a favor, and instead of leaving Wed morning, they would all wait for me to take a test I had for school that evening. Go take the test, get my ass home, and we leave. Simple! I went to school, took my test, got my ass home. NO ONE is ready to roll! Myself included. I forgot some things, cell phone charger, hair goo, etc. You know, really important stuff for a weekend with your friends in the wilderness.
We also forgot to check the weather. Well, "forgot" is inaccurate. More like Pat thought I was, I thought Erick was, Erick thought Pat was etc. Timmy, Eddie, and Danny had left earlier in the morning, and reports from the road were "clear sailing from here to Toledo", again a ship reference.
There was one more passenger on our list that no one knew about, sort of a stow away. Winter Storm Petros.
The gang that left earlier wasn't lying, but about the time we finally got on the road, we were 4 hours behind our scheduled time of departure, and the other crew was already 8 hours ahead of us. By the time we hit Sandusky, the reports from the other crew turned from words like "sunshine", "clear sailing", and "beautiful" into words like "Gale force", "Ichigan SUCKS" and "HOLY SHIT!"
When we hit I-75 in Ichigan it got unattractive. Snow and windy. By the time we got north of Ann Arbor (the dirty whore) it got down right UGLY. I-75 was one "lane" if you could even call it a lane, blizzard conditions, gale force winds, and an absolute vividly awake, living, breathing nightmare, Down to 20 MPH at some points, looking out the side windows at the sleds on the trailer, wait,,, Are those OUR sleds???? Looking at the radar, the storm is the entire length of Ichigan, and has a hurricane swirling appearance. It's not going anywhere. We're going to have to hit The Mackinac Bridge to get away from this thing.
Somewhere north of Vanderbilt we noticed Pat had broken an exhaust hanger on his truck. Stopped at a gas station in the middle of the storm around 05:00 to fuel up and jerry-rig Pat's exhaust. Knocked about 100 pounds of snow and ice off of the trailers, and the guys in the snowplows trying to keep up and clear the parking lot piled about 300 pounds behind the trailers. Couple of MacGyver items from the "automotive" isle in the gas station, and laying under Pat's rig in 9" of snow, we thankfully got the exhaust "fixed" and were once again northbound. Where's that damn bridge? We HAVE to be getting close. I hate Ichigan. Yep, red flag...... We didn't listen.
(to be cont)
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