Best of Both Worlds

  I have to apologize to BOTH of my fans!  I've been slacking on my blog.  Hell, I didn't even finish the Edmund Fitzgerald story.

Best of Both Worlds

  Since I was last here, there's been a LOT of things going on in my life.  Some bad and heartbreaking, some not so bad with an inkling of light in the tunnel, some FANTASTIC.  Sometimes the light in the tunnel was a train.  But for the most part, the light has gotten me back on track.  To who I think I am, to who I want to be. To where I think Karma wants me to be.

  I've learned a lot the past few years.  I completely fell off of the "positive" mountain and fell into the trap.  It's so damn hard to start climbing from the bottom.  Trust me, the further you climb, the easier it gets!  I've seen the top and I'm determined to get back up there.

  A single year into my Paramedic career. Oh boy. What an INCREDIBLE ride!  Most of the "scared" is gone, I'm settling in to who I think a good medic should be. Eric and Paul told me from day 1 that they wanted to see what "Billy Medic" was like.  It's starting to bubble to the top through the hate and discontent we see on a daily basis.  I keep a little of the "scared" around on purpose.  Outside the comfort zone is the only place to learn to be better.  This blog itself scares me.  I share my thoughts with complete strangers. Scary shit. I want to be the calm, the voice of reason, the answer to your worst day. But I'm scared too. That's my motivation to learn more, just in case you need something I don't know.

 I actually have Paramedic students hanging around and specifically requesting ME.  I have co-workers wanting and waiting to work with me.  I'm being recruited by area EMS providers, no questions asked, come work with us.  Recently I met a new "partner" for the first time at 0800.  by 0900 I heard the gears click. No, they went CLUNK!  We're trying to work together as much as possible, because it works.  Absolutely not tooting my own horn here.  I just surrounded myself with the best people I could find, yet again.  It's OK to be a little selfish on this thought.  Surround yourself with the best you can find in any situation.  When you be comfortable with that situation, and people, it's time to move on and learn something. Something new, a different way of doing things.

  Retiring from FD. Oh wow.  I don't even know how to think about this.  I've been super excited to retire and move on.  Again, outside the comfort zone, surround yourself with the best.  I've found myself as "The OLD guy" at the fire department.  It seems like yesterday when I walked into that fire house full of the unknown and visions of grandeur and heroism. Years, many years down the road. When I look in the mirror, I do not see grandeur or a hero.  I just do my job.  Just like every other guy at MY FD.  The guys at MY fire department are real heroes. They're my heroes. Just like every other guy/gal at any FD across the country.  It's just what we do. Many things learned. I find myself in the position of those I held so high in esteem back then.  I'm not ready to be THAT guy. I don't know all of it yet, I'm still learning. I'm always learning. I'll never stop.

 I've met so many wonderful people. I've met so many people without a soul. I've surrounded myself with the best. I've tried to be better each day. Most importantly, I've learned so much. The TALENT of the people I've met I cannot describe. Instructors, co-workers, nurses, doctors, and even patients.

 So, here we are.
Point #1: I want to continue my blog, express my thoughts, learn and grow.
Point #2: "Learn" is a consistent word in my blogs. My Fire Chief pointed this out.
Point #3: Be The One!

  As payment to those that came before us. As payment to the people that have taught me so much. It'd be incredibly selfish to keep it to myself.  I'm not going anywhere.  I'm going to school. Instructor school. I'm keeping all the current certifications.

If you're willing to learn, in Andrew Carnegie style, It's my obligation to show you how.

The Highwaymen

 

  This is the follow up to the Edmund Fitzgerald story, even though I never actually finished February's story.  Partly because life got in the way, and I haven't had time, partly because it was such a horrible trip that my mind is pushing those memories away to the point that I've forgotten some of the details.  It's the details that put you the reader, almost on a snowmobile going along with us on the trip.
 
  It was just a bad bad trip from the word go.  Broken trucks, broken sleds, broken trailers, EVERYTHING was broken, thankfully no bones were.  It's our annual end of season four day trip.  Riding 100+ miles per day is not out of the ordinary.  In February 2016, we rode 17. Total. In four days. SEVENTEEN.
 
  It was so bad that when the entire Frankenfast crew was fixing trailers and sleds at 11:00 PM so we could get home in the morning, that Eddie, Danny and myself jumped in a truck and drove to Whitefish Point and apologized to the crew of The Edmund Fitzgerald. It was necessary, and had to be done.  They had the last laugh in the form of a few more broken parts on the ride home, but we eventually made it.

  Lessons learned, life goes on.  But we now have a deep respect for lost souls that obviously haunt Ichigan's Upper Peninsula.  And we will no longer be using Gordon Lightfoot's song as we have in the past.  We all know the song word for word, and stop what we're doing when it comes on the radio.  Text messages go out to the group, "Tune to (insert radio station) and we all do.  Before we left The "U.P." we all decided we'd be back.  Tails tucked between our legs, battered, beaten, bruised. Defeated. We headed home.

 

  Trying to be positive, I remembered one of my sayings. The problem isn't the problem, your attitude about the problem is the problem.  So over the next few months, we fixed broken sleds, fixed broken trucks, trailers, and attitudes.  Not exactly sure when it happened, but "The Highwaymen" became a song that kept inserting itself in our lives, almost like it wanted to be our new inspiration.  The lyrics are on point with our "we'll be back again" attitude, and it's found a place among the Frankenfast crew.

clicky ---- > The Highwaymen

  With the necessary repairs in place, we put together an impromptu ride yesterday.  Just 3 of the crew on what we refer to as a "shakedown cruise."  Not riding hard, or far. Not riding to a particular destination.  Just riding for the sake of riding, to expose any potential problems with equipment in hopes of time to repair, yet again, before our big trip in 2 months.  So off we went, to a somewhat "local" location, not even knowing where we'd end up when we left.  No maps, no idea where to unload, no idea what we were getting into.

  Found a local "tour guide" who up to that point was just a nice guy in a bar, who had no idea who we were.  "Tom" not only pointed us in the right direction, he took time out of his day, jumped in our truck and actually drove around with us showing us where to ride and park.  Tom even took us to a spot to unload the trailer, and had his wife pick him up there.  All this from a complete and total stranger.

  We ended up unloading at a boat launch near a rather large lake.  Not Gitche Gumee large, but large enough.  I saw all three sleds sitting on the ground, getting warmed up near the lake and found myself thinking about the men from The Edmund.  Thought to myself, "Hey guys. I apologized in person.  We good?"  

  And off we rode.  Unfamiliar trails, unfamiliar area, no maps. Not sure about the repairs we've made, fully expecting at least a few minor problems.  We rode for a few hours, some really nice trails, some long clear straightaways, didn't beat on the sleds, but didn't baby them either.  Just kinda bombing around on some new trails.

  What happened next was NOT expected. At all!  We rode, and played in the snow. That's it!  Not even a fouled spark plug.  Zero issues, zero problems, just ride ride ride.  We actually rode further yesterday than we did in four days in February.  We had a blast! That's how its supposed to be.  Riding back to the trailer on my Indy Storm, we cruise past the actual boat launch with the sun hanging low, and I thought of the following pic as a thank you to the crew of The Edmund Fitzgerald.  I honestly believe after some hard fought lessons, and Highwaymen attitude adjustments, The Edmund crew has switched from making us miserable, to watching over and taking care of us.

  Thanks guys!!!

The Wreck of The Edmundfitzgerald V

 

If you ever see guys on older sleds with snow piled up on the running boards, that's where the radiators are.  We're trying to cool off the hell that comes from under the hood.  Newer sleds have a "better" idea, and moved the radiators.  They can't put snow where we do to cool things off.  If you're running hot, the best way to cool off is to throw some snow under the sled by "turning" into a snowbank.  It's a gamble at best, but if you find yourself at this point in your life, it's pretty much your only option.

  I had snow piled high on the running boards when we left Curtis.  I knew it only bought me some time.  I knew Pat and Eddie behind me on the newer sleds were gonna be hurting.  I hoped the other 8 behind me were smart enough. 2 miles, lets do this.  I was trying my best to peel snow off of the bank, but I knew it was futile.  It hadn't snowed in days, I was riding on hot blacktop and trying to stuff a ski into ice.  I didn't "need" it but I knew the more snow I could throw into the street, the better the guys behind me would be.  The slush the other riders were talking about would be a relief right now, at least it's colder than the sparks coming off my skis.  I can see the trail head in front of me on the left, check my mirror, 1,2,3,4,5,6... Look behind me, no cars, no cars in front.  Grab a ski full of ice on the right, LEFT TURN!  Ya need snow for these things to turn. I used the ice bank on the right, to make a left turn possible.  There was literally that little snow.

  By the grace of god, my sled turned.  I saw the slush.  I saw a snowbank and hoped it wasn't ice.  I needed to cool this thing off, and in a hurry.  They aren't made for sunshine and blacktop.  Made the trail head, got a little selfish, got a little slushish and grabbed some throttle that was  pointed at that snow bank.  It was SNOW, not ice! Thank you!  Quick puff of steam.... OH SHIT.  Steam from a liquid cooled machine, not cool!

  Its all aluminum, physics, and gasoline.  Cooling aluminum too fast, although your aluminum is currently too hot, is ALWAYS bad.  I pulled out of that snow bank like a porn star, the next thing I saw was open land with some actual snow.  Handful of throttle to get air/snow moving to get the temperature down seemed like the best thing to do.  So that's what I did.  Quick glance in my mirror and everyone had the same idea.

  That "little" XCR went skis up, ass down and showed me what that little bump is on the back of the seat, to keep me from falling off!!!

  We all circled around the trail head for a few to cool off the engines, thumbs up from the whole crew even though we didn't have to talk, we were all overheating to a certain extent.  We were all enjoying this slush to a certain extent.  Let's dive into the trail once I got them all back into line...

Last year up to this point I legally passed cars on the 3 mile road trip to get to the trail head. Because I was faster in the snow.  This year we had none.  And now we were playing in slush like we just found the holy grail.

Up to this point we had sleds already falling off due to heat.  But now that we're all cooled off, we had a new plan. As always, Newberry or bust. I see the trail off to our right...


Let The Bodies Hit The Floor
Let the bodies hit the floor...

Can't take much more...

HERE WE GO, HERE WE GO, HERE WE GO!

Look behind me with a thumbs up..

"Nothing wrong with me!"
"Nothing wrong with me!"
"Nothing wrong with me!"
"Nothing wrong with me!"

"Something's got to give" and we should have stopped.

But we didn't.  I blame myself.  I hit that trail at 45 MPH KNOWING there was a hard right turn coming up.

  That right turn, and "Edmund Fitzgerald" playing in Danny's pocket......


We had a good time.  For about two miles.  Long straight aways are always our favorite, but we utilize the slow parts of the trails to regroup.

We made that right turn off the trail head, and I swear to god I was wide open throttle already. Ready to ride.  The XCR showed me what I was missing, but we came to an understanding on that straight away.

  2 stroke smoke smell inside the helmet mixed with wild Michigan air. I'm in!

  First pull off comes up, so I pull over to make sure our group is all together.  Everyone show up except Danny.  Where the hell is Danny?

  Then we all hear "The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald" playing from the woods, and it seems to be getting louder....

That Damn Siren...

  Today while on the ambulance responding to a call, I actually shut the siren off because I was tired of hearing it.  We've all done it.  "Tired of hearing the sirens Brian!"  Then I remembered something I learned a long time ago about the sirens.  I'd like to share, if you'd like to learn please read on.

  The Federal Q.  That fire truck sound.  It all started with a vacuum cleaner believe it or not.  A young inventor saw the design and heard the noise, and with some tweaking came up with an "electro-mechanical" sound that has become iconic and directly married to fire trucks.  There is only one place that sound comes from. Fire trucks.

  Long before my recent days on the ambulance, I was strictly a fire fighter.  A firefighter's firefighter as I've been called.  I'm soul deep into this.  Always have been, always will be.  Until they put me in the ground, I'll always be a firefighter.  And even on that day, I won't know, but if you're there you will see and feel what "this" means to all of us.

  "Lights and Sirens"..... Very early in my career I learned how this was supposed to work, and what Light & Sirens were supposed to do.  This is also the title of a book a friend of mine, Kevin Grange has written, a VERY good read!  Shortly after, I was finding my own firefighter within.  I was figuring out "who" Billy was.  I learned from some so many others, that I cannot even begin to list them here.  But taking a little from all of them, I was slowly but surely figuring out where I fit into all of this brotherhood, and was in all accounts becoming a respected young firefighter willing to learn and carry on the traditions of those that came before me.  One of those traditions was, and still is, that Federal Q siren.  As my first few years progressed, I became fascinated with the fire truck sound.  Every time I left the station was an actual tribute to those before me.  My contribution to the brotherhood.  Air horns and "Q" coming out of the station.  Count on it.  It progressed to the point where citizens would comment on how they knew I was on duty because of how that rig sounded coming down the street.

  I did it mostly for myself.  I was obnoxious about it. But I loved it.  I was falling in love with being accepted as a brother.  I was learning.  I began teaching some of what I had learned.  It took some 20 years and another book to actually describe what I was feeling back then.  This is from a book written by Kevin Hazzard titled "A Thousand Naked Strangers"

"Loud and terrible, ten thousand pounds of speeding menace with the lunatic wail of a screaming banshee … a street bound locomotive that can't stop, so get the hell out of the way."

    That's the way I left my fire station. EVERY time.  But then the tradition of my noise making ways of clearing traffic started to teach me something.  It became apparent that I could clear traffic not just in front of me, not just the approaching intersection, but I was clearing traffic two, sometimes three intersections in front of me.  I didn't know it at the time, but I was loud.  I was terrible.  I was an obnoxious asshole.  I was coming though that intersection.  How you wanted your car to look afterwards was up to you, but I was coming through.  I was Moses parting the red sea.

  I'm sure I heard it way before I realized the lesson here.  I just wasn't paying attention.  I started to listen to the people that needed our help.

"I was so frantic, I didn't know what to do!!!  But I heard your siren...."
"I didn't think you would make it in time, but then I heard your siren...."
"I was so scared, but I heard your siren..."
"I didn't know what to do, but I knew you'd be here soon, I heard you coming.."

  That siren we all love isn't just to clear traffic.  I'm tired of hearing it at this point in my career honestly.  It's caused permanent damage and deafness.  "Tinnitus" the call it.  I can't sleep at night without a TV on because without it all I hear is a ringing annoying "meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,"

  Just like everything else we do.  That siren isn't about "us."  It's about THEM.  Don't ever shut it off.  As annoying as it may seem to you, me and all of us.

  It's the "bat signal" in the city.  It tells those in need that help is on the way.  It's the storm and chaos in our world, but it represents the calm after the storm coming to them.


  It's a sound of comfort, caring, and reassurance that professionals are on the way.

  Don't shut it off.

The Wreck of The Edmund Fitgerald Part IV

Evidently, we have fans again for this trip.  I apologize for the long story, but it was such a long trip. Such a long trip.....

  I'm listening to Van Halen's "Hot Summer Nights" as I write this, and what irony.  The big complaint last year was way too cold, this year not enough cold. Not enough snow.  But as Van Halen says, "We celebrate when the gang's all here!"

Van Halen

  So here we sit, on the side of the road thanks to me.  Danny, Edmund Fitzgerald already in my ears..... Grandpa!!!  Danny! What do you need?  Danny, I need you to shut that song off, and go run into the woods.  Go play hide and go F*&k yourself!  A single mile from camp, and here we are.

  A single effin mile.  I got this, "new" build on this sled, coolant hose rubbing up against something it shouldn't.  Jerry rig, LET'S RIDE!  I know we have Curtis 2 miles through the windshield, I'll fix it then.  We roll into Curtis like we own the place, but by then I'm already overheating again.  I just needed 2 miles, and here we are.  Got my two miles, got more problems than I anticipated. Still, not a problem, I have a swiss army knife and a gas station, I can fix the space shuttle here if needed.

  Eddy jumps in to help, that's just how he is.  I run inside, buy a gallon of antifreeze and two gallons of water, As Eddie and I are fixing my little cooling problem, minor engine mount problem. We got this,  We're in Curtis, on sleds!  Wait a tick, it becomes painfully obvious that I still see no snow....... Pat walks up "Have any of that antifreeze left?  I tried to peel some snow off of the bank with the right ski, it didn't work."  My XCR is down for the count, Pat's Edge is SCREAMIN hot.  Well, shit....

  12 hours from home.  It's gonna take more than this to bring us down.  Before ya know it, we're ready to roll forward.  As we're leaving the gas station in Curtis, we happen upon riders heading back in.  "You have about 3 miles of crap before you see rideable snow."  Well, SWEET because we only have another mile of dry blacktop between us and the trails.

  I'm hot, Ed's Hot, Pat's hot, So are our sleds.  Two ways to go about this.  Slow and conservative, try and get snow off of the banks with the right ski. Or just get there quick and dive into a snow bank.

  Fueled up, looking at a stop sign.... "You Assholes ready??"  Got the OK from the crew.  Look left, look right.  Anticipating how long it will take 10 sleds behind me to get through this intersection.  Wait...wait....  BOOM.  They all know I don't "do" conservative.  Giddy Up!

  In one instant, with the best interest of our group in mind.  Look left, clear.  Look right, clear.  Look down between my legs and the XCR is ready.  With a handful of throttle, the XCR set us off on a path of speed, destruction, ghosts, mayhem, and friendship that none of us expected.  Helmet on, Edmund Fitzgerald playing in my mind, skis not on the ground, nothing but sky in the windshield, and the smell of 2 stroke Polaris..

  At that exact moment, in Curtis Michigan, my right thumb grabbed more Polaris than was expected.  The XCR threw me down onto my seat, and made damn sure I knew who was boss.  I wasn't sure how long she would last,  Pretty sure with the way she wanted to dislocate my arms she didn't know how long I would last.

  Let's find out..... 1 mile of blacktop, then 2 miles of slush.

The Lostpital

  Taking a detour from the Edmund story, because this one just fell into my lap.  A little research, a little reaching out on the interweb, and I was just handed a wonderful story about the place we call home, The YO.

  Youngstown, Ohio.

  I'm really not sure how this whole story got started, but that's OK because that's how the best stories usually start!  I think a friend of mine, Phil, found a pic. This all started with a single pic.  Something about ghost stories and abandoned buildings on a site that was completely unrelated to YO or EMS.  It was a photography site, and the pics I've seen (with a little research) are INCREDIBLE.  These guys take AMAZING pics!!!  The photographer was obviously in for the pic, but when "we" got a hold if it, we wanted to know more.  We're "ghetto medics" in Youngstown.

Let's start with the original picture:

How COOL is this???  Thanks to a couple of photographer "Sean's" Paramedics in Youngstown have some history to dig in to.  Which is exactly what I did.  And what I found out is amazing!

  This is the page I found the pic on, I'm not stealing anyone's thunder.  These guys are almost as good as a photographer I know near Cleveland, but that's a different story.

  Amazing?  Pic is, but THIS in Youngstown? No, not really.  In Youngstown, "amazing" was normal for us.  We built Steel. Ice Cream. Bread. Cars. Rail Roads. Coke. Coal. Automobiles. Movies. There was nothing Youngstown couldn't do.  So why wouldn't we have hospitals?

  I reached out to both Sean's responsible for this photo, Sean Gailbreath, and Sean Posey.  I heard from Mr Posey this evening and that was all my brainus needed,,,,,,

  According to Mr. Posey, this building was the hospital for General Fireproofing.  He wasn't sure of the location, as it had been some time since the photo was taken.

  "Bill, this was from the old General Fireproofing plant. Sadly, it has been torn down,"

  With a little research, I determined that Youngstown, OUR Youngstown was also a pioneer in metal office furniture.  With a factory on Logan Ave.  Abandoned factory buildings on Logan near Gypsy, more specifically the area on Logan that's south of W Dennick.  It's all open land and vacant now, which has become the story of our "YO".

General info on the company:
General Fireproofing

And again, because I'm pretty proud of all the rust I see in this city, I did a little more research, and came up with a current day video of where The Lospital once stood......

The Lostpital


  We built steel.  That steel made more factories, one of which  that simply made metal office furniture.  That factory made more jobs.  More jobs to the point that General Fireproofing built their own Hospital, creating yet more jobs in the medical field.  The need for more jobs, built schools and educated people that wanted to learn. Which, created even more jobs. All of a sudden we needed teachers, professors, factory workers, police officers, firefighters, engineers on the railroads we built, truck drivers, store clerks, accountants, bankers, car salesmen, car builders, butchers, bakers, movie makers.

  What the hell happened to us?

The Wreck of The Edmund Fitgerald Part III

  Despite a month long thrash on the sleds and trailers getting things ready, as we always promise ourselves will not be happening again next year, but somehow it always does.  Just like "Next year, we're leaving ON TIME and I don't care who isn't ready, we're leaving!" always turns into a 4 hour delay.  Despite calling Ann Arbor the dirty whore that she is on the way through, and surviving a winter land hurricane from Ann Arbor to Mackinac, seeing no snow where there is supposed to be snow, and turning a 10 hour trip into 14, despite all of this shit already, getting out of the trucks and having our group together again brought instant thoughts of happiness on the trails and laughter in the cabin. And all of the red flags and disappointment on the way here seemed to not matter, and almost vanish completely. Our makeshift repair on Pat's exhaust was still holding, Danny had his own theme song and we would all be on the sleds in Newberry very soon!

Thursday, Feb 25, 2016
  The plan for the day is to unload all the gear, and the sleds then head into Curtis 3 miles down the road for the appropriate permits, and last minute details we all forget like 2 cycle oil and hair goo.  Even though the sleds load themselves under their own power, and they depend on a bunch of dummies dragging them off the trailers, unloading went relatively smooth with our new-found energy, excitement, and false hopes of putting the "badness" behind us.  Partially because the "adults" were busy, and partially because we weren't paying attention, Mikey and JT were off entertaining themselves.  Nothing bad at all, just boys being boys.  What they were doing was wrestling over a football in the snow.  Not in itself a bad thing, hell they were keeping themselves occupied and not in the way or getting hurt.  What they didn't realize, is that they were also getting soaking wet in the snow.  At 50 MPH in The Upper Peninsula, wet gear is a huge bad thing.  Remember kids, its super easy to die up here, and hypothermia is not your friend, and with the wolfpack mentality wet clothes are a detriment to the entire group.

  I have to rewind a bit, and go back to the annual pre-trip sled thrash, it gets important in the story soon.  If you remember, Pat broke a driveshaft and caused last years major "kerfuffle", so easy fix.  New shaft and associated bearings and oil, he's first on the trailer.  I traded stuff for an Arctic Cat ZR 700, fixed it up, traded it for two Polarii.  Yes, Polarii is the correct plural for Polaris.  Pat and I did some major work on the two to make a good one, and got it "running".  Uncle Ed, Eddie, and Danny showed up and made her RUN!  I was next on the trailer.  Jimmy just needed some long overdo maintenance, and some parts from my other one and he was next.  JT's sled is "just a little air cooled 340" (this is important later!!!) and didn't need much, but since the sled is small, we saved it for later to fit it into our sled/trailer tetris game. "Old Reliable" The 440 I rode last year, gave her a quick once over, and she was ready.  Those 5 are on the first trailer Pat and Erick are pulling, Chop and I are pulling the second trailer. We're supposed to haul Eddie's XCR 800 and Chopper's RXL.  XCR? Good to go, put it on the trailer.  RXL? Not so much, we literally pulled it out of a barn January 3.  It was a basket case. Thrash, thrash, thrash, keep throwing money at it, first pull FIRED! Yay! Ker-effin-boom! One of the three cylinders is not playing nice with the other two.  The best way I can describe what happened in the next 72 hours.... We sent a sick little lamb to Brookfield, we didn't have time for it here.  It was running on 2 of 3 cylinders.  Again, Uncle Ed, Eddie, Danny, Chopper and some non-sled friends spent each and every spare moment and sent it back in about 60ish hours.  When it came back, it had a crankshaft from a 1932 Studebaker, cylinder heads off of a P51 Mustang, a magic wand and a whole lot of angry.  That crew busted ass, and took a shot in the dark with spare parts, what they came up with is a secret combination that none of us to this day are sure of.  We're all sure it works though!  Holy shit does that thing run like a fat kid chasing an ice cream truck!

  So here we are, Curtis Ichigan.  We fought so hard to get here, and the only thing on our minds is Newberry, Ichigan.  Unload, let's hit Curtis, get back here, gear up and shake down cruise to Newberry!  We all jump in and convoy to Curtis.  Fuel for the rigs, oil for the sleds, permits for the Cops, cash for the wallet.  My debit card is STILL there, BTW. And a little The Wreck of The Edmund Fitzgerald on the radio....  At this point, the Brookfield side and the Grimm side start talking about why we both have this song on our minds.  I point out the fact that the ship wrecked a hundred miles or so from here, and there's a museum up there in Whitefish Point that I'd like to go see, and I think it'd be a good trip on the sleds.  Except the museum is closed, but maybe we can still make the ride past Paradise, head on up there.  Danny tells us he stumbled upon the song, and keeps playing it solely for the fact that it pisses Eddie off.  "Holy shit!  We're close to where it wrecked??" Yeppers.

.

 "I think that'd be a good Saturday trip for us, let's get to Newberry today, then see what happens.  Shake down cruise today, we're all tired from the trip.  Dust off tomorrow, we'll hit the trails pretty hard maybe make a big loop.  Saturday is the long haul trip, we'll go see Edmund and her crew, stop at The Falls for lunch, Paradise for fuel." I said, fully believing this was even a remote possibility.

  We all get permitted up, and things we forgot, and a few extras and head back to the sleds waiting for us at the cabin.  When we get back, there is a palpable giddiness about us as we all exit the trucks and race to the cabin to get geared up.  I hear the first of our sleds start for the warm up and the sound puts a sense of urgency into all of us in the cabin.  Quick trip today, back to the cabin to get settled in. This is it!

  Quick safety check, everyone knows the order and the trail rules. 3 miles to Curtis on the streets, then trails.  Ride Sally ride!  I lead our pack out of the drive and onto the road leading to Curtis, and all of a sudden it becomes painfully obvious.  We're riding on blacktop. Not snow.  I knew this!  Air cooled sleds depend on movement for engine cooling, we have Robert and JT on "The little 340's" that are air cooled.  The rest of us are liquid cooled.  A liquid cooled sled has radiators around the track, and depends on snow to cool the radiators. Simple.  Except we're riding on dry pavement.  I try my best to kick my outside ski into a snowbank when I can to throw snow under my sled.  It doesn't work.  About a half mile from camp, I get the sound of a sick engine, and a few second later the "overheat" light on the dash.  I stop, and realize I'm the first to break down this year, less than a mile from camp.  With what dignity I have left, I climb off of my XCR and hope for no permanent damage.  As I'm assessing the situation, I don't even have my helmet off yet, I glance to my left and see Danny walking towards me.  Not a big deal, we travel as a pack.

  But then I hear his theme song.... "That good ship and crew was a bone to be chewed, as the gales of November gave early. The ship was the pride of the American side coming back from mill in Wisconsin.."

  "What's wrong Grandpa??? Did you break a hip?" Kiss my ass Danny......

(to be continued)