Snowmobiling in Saskatchewan

The apocalypse happens. Who do you want as your best friend: a farmer, or the lead computer scientist at Apple?

Recently I spent a month and a half in northern Saskatchewan, doing geophysical surveying to look for mineral resources. Cold, cold, cold Saskatchewan was quite the experience! First, we drove 6 hours north of Saskatoon to a tiny town called Pinehouse. There was one little gas station with a convenience store and a  small chicken shop attached to the back. On the way up, I assumed this was just the only place we stopped, rather than the only place to stop in town. My mistake. On the drive back I was informed: this little gas station is all there is in Pinehouse. No grocery store, no shops, just this gas station and the school next door. “This is it?!” My coworkers were amused by my shock. I kept thinking there must be a hidden dimension in Pinehouse that holds all the stores. The nearest town was 2 or 3 hours away. Do the people of Pinehouse drive that far every time they want groceries? It boggled my mind. There must be a hidden dimension to Pinehouse with shops and stores and things.

      Still, I enjoyed 6 weeks in a tent camp where food was driven up to us once a week! So maybe I know more about Pinehouse living than I first thought.

              The tents were arranged in little rows like houses, with a walkway in front and a number on the door. Not a camping tent; these tents were made of durable canvas over a mental frame. Inside, a diesel stove kept us warm. We slept two or three per tent on plywood bed frames. There were two “buildings”, one that had plywood walls and held washrooms and the kitchen, and another tunnel tent designated as an office. Three little foxes, one with orange fur and two with black fur, would follow us around and beg for food.  

              Each day we would ride fancy tactile snowmobiles to reach the survey locations and go snowshoeing and trekking to set up the survey. There were many hills and thick bushes and trees and lakes with slush on them and six feet of snow, and all these obstacles made laying out wire difficult. An orange fox would follow us around and sniff at our feet for food. There’s a lot of background physics I’m starting to pick up a little bit at a time. The joy of working with a lot of experienced and knowledgeable people is I can ask them any questions I have at all hours of the day!

My coworkers were all interesting people that I enjoyed getting to know. A mix of average joes from Saskatoon, Indigenous folks, geophysicists, adventurous vagabonds, and recent graduates like me, brand-new in the professional world and ready to try their hand at surveying. Despite their differences, everyone was kind, open, down-to-earth, and seemed at peace with themselves and who they are.

              Another time, our equipment fried itself because the wiring was in all wrong. This was quite a pickle because we only had one of these machines and we needed it to survey. We spent two days looking at wiring diagrams and eventually we managed to rewire it to send the proper currents to the proper locations. That was challenging and exciting for me because even the experienced folks had never done it before, which is a good sign that even after years and years, there’s still new stuff to learn and figure out and new challenges to face.

              When I went for new-hire training earlier this year, I took a tour of the shop, which was full wall-to-wall with snowmobiles waiting for repairs. The one closest to me had a massive chunk broken out of one side of the front cover, and a dent on the other side. How did that happen? I wondered. I couldn’t fathom how someone could abuse a snowmobile that badly.

              After two weeks on the job, I knew exactly how the damage happened. Many days were spent reversing into trees, or crashing into trees, or getting stuck on trees. Occasionally you would come across another snowmobile going the opposite way on the survey line and have to pass them. Sometimes the trail was so narrow that you were basically pushing them to the side with the weight of your snowmobile to get past.

              Each day was also an exercise in how to dress for cold weather. Too many base layers, and you would sweat and then be cold. The moisture would have nowhere to go to dry. Not enough base layers, and you would be cold before you started sweating! Each day I’d stick my nose out the front door of our tent and assess what kind of gear to bring. Eventually, I started taking risks – maybe we don’t need the parka today, I’d say, if it was only -15. Doesn’t sound that risky, but, what if you don’t bring it and then you’re cold? That would be terrible.

              I also learned what to do if that does happen – you can start a fire. The bush was full of small, dry trees, black spruces and aspens. My co worker taught me how to pull ‘grandpa’s beard’, a hair-like tree lichen, off of dead trees and arrange it over twigs and branches to start a fire. When that didn’t work, a little bit of gasoline helped do the trick. I brought a flint, thinking, if I got lost or something a flint would last longer than a lighter. But in the field, I realized the tool is only as useful as the person who knows how to use it. Though I tried many times, many days in a row, I never quite managed to start a fire with my flint. It might have worked if we poured gasoline on the lichen, but at that point the self-sufficiency appeal of the flint goes out the window.

              Though I could give up on the flint (and had to, when actual work called), one thing we could never give up on was getting snowmobiles unstuck. Time and time again, day after day, our snowmobiles got stuck. I remember on my first day in the field, the boss told me and my partner, who was also new, to just explore the trail a bit to get familiar with snowmobiling. Well, I went maybe 50 metres up an extremely narrow, winding path, before trying to turn around. My first mistake – if a snowmobile trail exists it has a turn around spot because, whoever made it must have turned around somewhere! I know now that the spot I chose to turn around in was about the worst place to do it. Pretty quickly I was stuck.]

              For the first week, every time I got stuck, I felt a little guilty, but no one ever berated me for it. They just assessed the situation and then helped me get unstuck. I was paired with a really experienced, expert snowmobiler, and he taught me extremely useful tips and tricks to getting a snowmobile unstuck in deep snow.

              After a month on the job, I started to learn, getting stuck is just part of the process. Obviously avoid it if you can, but almost everyone got stuck at some point or another. In case any of you ever find yourself snowmobiling around in deep snow, here’s some of the tips and tricks I learned along the way.

Serena’s Snowmobiling Suggestions

Disclaimer: I learned ALL of this advice from other people, so credit where credit is due. Some folks don’t want to be online though. So I’ll just say, these tips and tricks were learned via courtesy of experienced outdoorsmen with patience and determination.

Turning Around

The best place to turn around is in a clear, open space. The second-best place to turn around is somewhere where you can back up really fast. The best way to actually turn around is NOT going forward first. Find your spot and drive slightly past it. Then, turn your handles to the side and reverse into the spot, so that you get as perpendicular to the trail as possible (probably won’t be super perpendicular the first time).  Turn your handles the other way, and go forwards, turning onto the trail as much as you can. DO NOT go too far forward on the trail. Snowmobiles are much better at going forward than backward, and usually the trail is packed down snow. If you go past the trail when going forward, you will have to reverse back onto the trail. More likely, you will sink the tail end of your snowmobile into a rut, and either destroy the trail to get out (typical, usually only kind of works to get you unstuck), or you’re going to have to take a wide loop forward. If there are a lot of trees in the way, that adds a couple hours of extra work to your getting unstuck process.

You probably won’t make it all the way turned around in one go. Don’t go forward too far!! Reverse quickly back onto your turn-around spot. Then go forward again. Repeat until you can turn enough to get onto the trail going in the opposite direction from your start. The diagram should help. When reversing, it’s best to go fast and with confidence.

              If you’re driving along and want to turn around but there’s just no good place, keep driving!! Whoever made that trail turned around somewhere. You’ll find it.

              If you get stuck turning around because you went too far forward and now you’re off the trail, you can always try reversing back onto it but in my experience, you usually have to take a little loop through the trees / around the trees and back to the trail.

Moving out of the way to let someone pass on the trail

              Let’s say you’re moseying along and then another snowmobile comes up on the trail in the other direction. Uh oh! Time to be polite and move to let them pass. This can be tricky as moving too far off the packed trail can have unintended consequences. The packed trail still has essentially the same amount of snow as the higher banks beside it. But it’s packed down and frozen now. If you bring your snowmobile fully parallel to the trail, you will never ever be able to get back on it. Your snowmobile will sink in the snow, usually below the trail, and then with your ski’s parallel to the higher trail, you can’t make the jump to get back on the trail. It’s only pain and suffering. Don’t do that to yourself! Instead, the trick is to go just off the trail enough that someone can pass, without pulling the body of the machine off the trail. Another method that sometimes works is to reverse to the side of the trail, because it will be easier for the snowmobile to get back on the trail going forwards than parallel or reverse. If it’s a wide-open area, your best bet is to go around them on the fluffy snow really fast and then turn and lean to get back on the trail.

Turning

              Turning sharply in deep snow is a matter of throwing your weight around. It’s really based on feeling and getting comfortable with the machine. If you’re turning right, you can lean towards the throttle side and hold on to the frame between the handles. Turning left for me was tricker. My friend suggested that in deep snow, on a lake, if you’re turning left, you lean the opposite way, and while I mostly understood what she meant I never quite mastered the art of turning left. Practice! I also learned that making a wide circle turn on a lake using the lean method is called ‘peeling a shitter’. Good slang.

Trail breaking

              No trail at all, just you and the deep snow? Here’s some tips and tricks to trail breaking.

              If the snowmobile feels stuck, you have several options: you can pack down the snow around the front skis, you can shovel/push snow out from under the front (oftentimes, there’s just too much snow in front of the machine, and it can’t summit it), can throw your weight back and forth while holding the throttle, you can reverse and then go forward fast and then reverse and then go forward fast, repeat. You can reverse and then go forward slowly and repeat that. It really depends on the situation. Each type of stuck needs its own solution. Generally, I start with shaking the machine back and forth to pack down loose snow. If that doesn’t work, then I try the reverse and then forward method. If that doesn’t work, I’ll stomp out a track for the sleds’ skis, and clear snow from underneath the front. If that doesn’t work, I’ll clear snow from around the sides of the snowmobile and out from the track below. If that doesn’t work, it might be time to call in reinforcements.

              If you have a partner with you, they can pull one of the sleds’ skis forward while you shake and hold the throttle. At first, I was scared I would get run over with this method. But that never happened. Once you get the machine on top of the snow, you can stop pushing the throttle and let your partner move out of the way, if need be.

              If none of that works and doesn’t work with a partner, turn the snowmobile on its side – it might be stuck on a log. Or just turn it on its side and try to shift it out of its spot. I didn’t gain much proficiency in this method because I usually needed someone to come help turn it on its side.

              If you get stuck on a tree, and need to cut it down, make sure you clear the snow to the base of the tree and cut as low as possible. Otherwise, the track may just get stuck on the stump and then you’ll have to cut twice. Save yourself the extra work.

Hills

              Hills can be a nightmare! But they can also be really fun. Depends on the hill, but generally, going up hills, you don’t need to gun it. A controlled fast ascent should be enough, especially if there are technical parts or twists or rocks to be avoided.

              If you get stuck going down a hill because you swerved away from the trail, there is no way down except forward. Don’t try to reverse up a hill. It’s impossible.

              If you’re going down a steep hill, don’t go too slow. Controlled speedy descent. Can’t say I’m an expert on going down hills… so I don’t want to say much.

              If you’re going up a hill in deep snow, no trail, don’t stop!! Go fast!! It’s very easy to get stuck up a hill. I’ve done it countless times.

Lakes

              If you’re on a lake and you see slush, gun it! This is the time to go at top speeds. Fly past that slush. You don’t want to be stuck in the slush! The slush is water on top of ice so it’s not like you’ll sink through the ice or anything. But it will be extremely cold, wet, and difficult to get your snowmobile unstuck from slush.

              Keep track of the inlets and outlets of the lake and avoid them. Running water is not your friend.

              Overall, my most essential advice is go with an experienced partner, if you can! Having someone to teach you all these things helps enormously. All these tips and tricks were picked up from other people. I’m grateful I had so many experienced snowmobiles I could ask for help. My other most essential piece of advice is, don’t give up. Have faith. You will get unstuck. If you think it’s hopeless before you begin, you’ve doomed yourself. And really, what are you going to do? Leave a ten-thousand-dollar machine in the woods and walk back to camp? You will get it unstuck.

              Okay. Back to the hills. Near the end of the survey, we started running into steep, steep hills. I had the honour of trail breaking one, and before the path was laid it looked like a menacing mountain looming right ahead of us. Another one was too steep to attempt and our experienced snowmobilers carved a side trail that was still too steep for me at times. These hills were our biggest challenges, metaphorically and literally. But we managed to summit them! I never would have guessed that hills in Saskatchewan would be my biggest hurdle.

              When we weren’t snowmobiling, snowshoeing through scenic bush, and seeing caribou tracks or rabbit tracks or unidentifiable tracks. In the evenings we would eat dinner in the kitchen and upload data in the office and try not to freeze in our tents. Then in the morning, we’d get up, rinse, and repeat.

About Jobs

I feel like there’s a pervasive narrative amongst Some Youth that companies are inherently evil and capitalism has stolen all joy from work. I feel that many (city) folks around me talk about trying to get the most money for the least amount of work. Many money-focused mindsets. I don’t think this is the fault of individuals – there’s a lot of issues in society that make it difficult to find meaningful, enjoyable work. In my experience, we don’t really encourage youth to explore their passions in their career. There’s a big emphasis on the starving artist trope. But if you pursue a career in a field you aren’t passionate about, it’ll be quite draining. You struggle to thrive. A societal dilemma faced on the individual level. A real conundrum.

I also feel that many jobs in this world are cog-in-the-machine type jobs. If you’re a cog, you don’t get to see the finished product, the final result, the big picture. This can be discouraging too, and it can be hard to see why you matter. Especially if your product is intangible. I just don’t think the human brain is wired that way. Centuries of trades, craftmanship, hunting, gathering, and making tools made us want to work with our hands. Of course, everyone is different. This is just my opinion. What do you think?

For me, repetitive, hands-on tasks like playing the piano, or walking in the woods, or whittling down a stick are just engaging enough to be relaxing. Almost meditative. After four years (or, my whole life), of intellectual-driven pursuits, it’s nice to reconnect with the value of hands-on work.  In reconnecting, I’ve realized, the hands-on work is where actual things get done. Where would we be without farmers, carpenters, electricians, shepherds, first responders, and mechanics? Not here, that’s for sure. Starving, probably. No roof over our heads. Now, where would we be without apps?? Phones? The apocalypse happens. Who do you want as your best friend: a farmer, or the lead computer scientist at Apple?

Personally, I think it’s a good idea for everyone to practice some basic survival skills, if only because you can learn just how much goes into surviving. When we can go to the grocery store any time of day and buy anything we want and sit in a temperature-controlled, bright room, and only engage with nature where and when we choose, we start to lose something essential. Something human. To understand the value and meaning in many things we must come to terms with everything being finite. Including ourselves. If you live closer to the idea of dying – just close enough that you realize, hey, if I’m an idiot right now or walk around with my brain off, I could get seriously injured or die – you start to realize what it means to be fragile. Irreplaceable. You only have one body and one life. I feel like people need to reconnect with that understanding of themselves in order to realize that we only have one earth.

All these talks about, how do we preserve nature? And a lot of times we just take the humans out of nature and set it aside as a park or a nature reserve. In my opinion humans are part of nature. To preserve nature, we need to go back to those roots and remember how to thrive in nature. Raise the next generation in the woods and they probably won’t be eager to cut down all the trees to make suburbs. What about the owls? What about the frogs? They only have one life, too. Just like you.

These things are hard to care about if you never see them. If you go in the woods on a backpacking trip or camping and try to start a fire with a flint you might just think, man, this is hard. Our ancestors had it rough. We’re living an easy life, all things considered. In the woods I came to better appreciate the generations of human history and toil that led us here today.

I think the right job at the right place can give you a sense of purpose, community, life lessons, and in my case a chance to see new places and learn interesting things. And hard work is an exciting way to live! Surveying is a lot of work and quite strenuous most days. Working hard at something, anything that brings you joy, or a sense of satisfaction, for me at least, enriches my life immensely. I enjoy each day more. I like myself more.  We are purpose-driven beings.