Sitting on the machine's pillion seat was reasonably comfortable with its padded seats (unlike the sledges!) and 'holding bars' (well, I used them for that purpose!) for a Scandinavian interpretation of 'safety'.Their road vehicles (including hotel trucks) don't require people to wear safety belts (as mentionned in my previous tale) - and these cross-country vehicles (like motor-cycle scrambling, trikes and quads in the UK) seem to get by with soft hats as an apology for protection. Miki's knitted-wool hat was attractive with its patterns and woolly bobbles! Not the protection that 'scramblers' use in Europe and other 'advanced' areas. Ruby, Bobbie and myself used the hats built into our anoraks or parkas, and in addition I had a woollen hat. Like those before me, I was involved in a rapid downhill acceleration with the tracked YAMAHA before decelerating for a left-hander into a side-road. This one was only slightly downhill, - decidedly more bumpy, but still with 2 metre deep canyon walls. After about a quarter mile down there, we climbed up a bank (a hole through the snowy canyon wall) on the left-hand side - just like a motor-cycle scrambler. We then went ducking-and-diving our way around pylons, poles, huts on making our way to clearer territory. Even this was done at 'competition-speed', - a quite exhilarating experience!! We did not follow contours or a ridge-path. Anything but!! We swooped down hills, roared up other ones, - not all in one continuous motion, but interrupted by abrupt turns, sheer drops and ascents. Miki obviously liked making a lot of noise!! This went on for a few miles, no recognition being given by Miki to my damaged base-of-spine. I, simultaneously, had to arrange (a) not to be thrown off the machine (b) not to further aggravate the pain (c) not to lose my woollen hat protection against the chill-factor. The problem, here, is that (a) requires me to be attached tightly to the seat whilst (b) requires that I be elevated safely ABOVE it. This puts a fair degree of strain on the arms and wrists. The wind-chill is quite severe at this speed, this altitude and this temperature. The jumps added a "degree-of-difficulty" to our free-style programme! The jumps also added to the "degree-of-pain" to my rear-end! Eventually, we arrived on the top of a hill surrounded by valleys and other hills(all completely covered with deep snow) PLUS an isolated pair of people who turned out to be Ruby and Bobbie.
I got off the beastie, to the relief of the spine's base-point, and the three of us took some more photos - watched bemusedly by Miki. Bobbie took my picture sitting on the Yamaha (with my camera) - and I took one of the machine as well. After a short 4- way chat Ruby joined Mike and roared off down the hill that I had just come up. Not down the same way - as there are an infinite choices of direction over this virgin snow. Bobbie and I were then totally alone on this snowy hill in the middle of no-where. The silence was deafening. What a beautiful isolated quiet place! We could see a frozen fjord from here - and we wandered around this snow-clad peak independently taking photo- opportunities of whatever took our individual fancies. On the frozen fjord were the locals taking part in their Easter sports event that Yewlin had told me about earlier this morning on the sled-expedition. When I had asked Yewlin whether any of his friends had taken part in the Iditerod Trail - he had answered in the negative (see next Tale where you will find his reasoning). One of my later questions was about the equivalents in this area - and he had answered with "There's one on today, - the Easter Meet!" One of my views of this event showed single and multiple dog-sled teams participating. I couldn't hear, let alone understand the conversations from this range, - but they all seemed to be having tremendous fun and excitement. As my eyes scanned along the fjord, I saw a tremendously fast snowmobile making a very smooth 'pass'. Woow!! That's impressive. I wondered whether he was going for the World Ice-Speed Record !! My mind then quickly dismissed that theory - as I already know the guy who's got that and he was far faster - despite the rapidity that I could see below me. Sammy Miller holds that record with a specially modified version (i.e. skids put on) of his "Vanishing Point" rocket car - and he did 247.93 mph at Lake George N.Y on 15th February 1981. Other views I enjoyed from this hill also included a long-distance view of Ammassalik way across the silent hills. Every direction had a totally different view - except that they all contained vast amounts of SNOW! It wasn't always silence, as there was, occasionally, the distant sound of a tortured Yamaha - or its equivalent. On occasion, Bobbie and I were misled into thinking that the noise represented Miki's return. The long-views as they came into sight, showed it to be different from Miki's easily recognised clothing. We then returned to our individual thoughts. On returning from my photography and thoughts, once, to near the summit - it became obvious that Bobbie was trying to ascend a smaller hill (probably about 20-30 feet high) on top of our hill. It was very steep with quite deep snow covering it. Her feet sank in quite alarmingly. Apparently, Ruby had tried it earlier - meeting considerable problems - and Ruby is of a more slender build. After a little more thought and experimentation, Bobbie resigned from the attempt. However, it was a brilliant effort, only the actual summit having beaten her. In due course, the next arrival on the skidoo approached. It was the female half of the couple from northern England - enjoying Miki's driving. Miki screamed to a halt on the whirring Yamaha. The good lady got off, and it will be Bobbie's turn to return next! Nobody got on straight away. We all just chatted on this lonely mountain-top. Bobbie and I took a few photos involving this snowmobile, - including one of me on it 'for the collection'. Then Bobbie was invited by Miki to mount the vehicle, which she did, and after a few pleasantries all round, shot off down the hill by a roundabout route. After a while, the 'scream' of the vehicle had gone - and I was left alone on this hilltop with the Northern lass (who only spoke normally to her husband - or lover - and he wasn't here!!) She, very soon, went in for the "ascent of the mini-mountain" on top of our hill. Knowing, now, of Ruby's and Bobbie's fruitless, but adventuresome, missions on this climb, I delivered their comments to this lass. Being younger, she tried it anyway. And succeeded, - and quite gracefully too!! I was then left, effectively, on my own at the summit of an isolated snow-covered mountain on an island on the fringes of the Arctic Circle. THAT was a beautiful, secluded, wonderful feeling. I, thus, wandered "lonely as a cloud" with fantastic thoughts and feelings whilst enjoying the vistas from my perch. All too soon (no idea of time today - despite the ever-present digital watch - as it would be a sin to "watch time" in this environment!!) - the Yamaha appeared and, making a sinuous climb, mounted the hill on which I was communing with nature. The woman's 'other half' was Mike's passenger on this occasion - so they could now be re-united and we all had a chat together before my departure. Yes! It was now my turn to make a Yamaha- powered- descent of this mountain. I re-reminded Miki of my damaged base-of-spine, put on my woolly hat (not as smart as Miki's!) and wondered what descent-path he would chose. All guesses were wrong, as there being virgin-snow as far as the eye could see [in all directions] an infinite choice was available to the intrepid pilot. We took a very steep descent initially - but then performed a series of swoops and climbs - just for the fun of it - ascending and descending slopes like a bird does in flight. The general direction of our travel didn't even become apparent - but Miki MUST have known where he was going. In one downward swoop, my hat caught the wind and disappeared from my head - so the snarling Yamaha was requested to find it!! It was dead- easy to see - as the whole world appeared white apart from my lost hat. Having retrieved it, I then reinstalled it more securely (by a 6" nail through the head!) before we headed off for roads and fjords lower down. Having reached a relatively level stretch on a frozen fjord, Miki asked me if I wanted to drive! You bet I did!! "Yes please" I said. So Miki jumped out of the front seat and I, gingerly but excitedly, got off the pillion position and took up my position in the driving seat. It felt very much like being on a 'quad' or a 'trike' back in the UK. The 'throttle' also reminded me of a 'trike' that I had ridden. It didn't have a 'twist-grip' throttle - but a small lever near the right hand grip. Clearly, the response to the throttle was similar to the 'trike' as well! In other words, it was set with its 'uptake' fairly fierce.Thus when the throttle was pushed (or pulled - I forget which now!) there was, initially, no reaction, - but at a certain point the engine was grabbed violently. Similarly, on de-throttling, all of a sudden the engine would 'turnoff' (well - it was still running but not 'pulling'). This was how they invented 'kangaroo-petrol'!! A certain 'learning-time' was essential to gauge 'how-far-off' and 'how-far-on' to go. Fortunately, I had been through that process before - so it came-back reasonably quickly!! The next thing to experiment with was how to get out of and back into existing ski-marks laid down by previous vehicles. (Otherwise, it's like the old comedy-routine of a push-bike being caught in sunken tramlines!) Extricating the snowmobile from this predicament was, initially, solved in my own way by going straight-on at a bend. Being quite long skis, they weren't always keen to do even that! One had to be quite positive and brave. (I didn't really want to tip the machine PLUS Miki and myself onto the frozen surface even at the critically-set throttle's minimum speed - and who's travelling at the minimum speed anyway?) Turning off a straight rut needed this nerve!! I have no idea what distance that I drove the snowmobile (Skidoo), but the end came only too soon when Miki indicated that he'd drive it into its base. My whole route was, maybe, three to four miles, along definitely the nearest frozen fjord to Ammassalik. Next time (I hope there will be a 'next time' within a year or two) - as for dog-sledding, I'll have to make sure that I don't injure the base of my spine first!!! Thus ended the beginning of an era - of "Roy's life on a 'skidoo' !" So far, therefore, I have not driven one over hilly terrain, - but have experienced many miles of pleasure as the (injured) passenger to a certain supersonic-Miki who appeared to have a death-wish here in Greenland. [Not the Black Death - but a far more attractive White-Death!!] At the moment, Greenland is almost completely silent except for the whines or snarls from the 'beasts' - it's a still relatively calm environment - mass tourism hasn't yet spoilt it. Our visits are in groups of from three to fifteen people, but I pity the environment when the invasion starts!! Even this small number of people, as yet, doesn't have separate simultaneous Yamahas. There is a sharing arrangement (as per the description in this 'tale') which does not pollute the environment with noise and chemical exhausts. The Yamahas only snarl in the daytime - whereas the huskies are howling all night. The question that I have to answer next is "Where do I go for further Ski-doo experience?" Dogsledding and Ski-dooing here was just an 'introduction'. Even in the same brochure that I applied through, there were more advanced trips and experiences. Currently, these take place in Swedish Lapland and out in the Yukon. This list implies an increasing degree-of-difficulty! .