Grooming trails the old-school way

Back in the day, one of my main jobs was grooming roughly 250km of trail each week. That meant heading out with a snowmobile, dragging grooming gear behind me, and keeping everything in shape for the dogs.

Our route wound through Patvinsuo, following the Karhunpolku hiking trail. It crossed Pitkäjärvi, stretched onto Lake Ruunaa, skimmed the Russian border, stopped at a wilderness cabin, and then looped back home. It was as scenic as it was demanding.

 

Trouble on Pitkäjärvi

One winter day, I was grooming along that border stretch when I hit Pitkäjärvi. Normally, it was just another crossing. But this time, the lake was covered in overflow: Water trapped between a thin surface crust and the thick ice below.

The snowmobile’s track punched through the crust and sank straight into the slushy middle layer, stopping only when it hit solid ice at the bottom. Meanwhile, the front skis stayed perched on the surface crust. Imagine the machine stuck in a permanent wheelie: nose up, tail buried.

No reversing. No lifting. And the only way forward meant gunning the throttle so hard that the exhaust began glowing orange. It was clear I wasn’t getting out alone.

 

Calling for help – the unlikely kind

There was no point calling Veronika – this was one of those “not a family-friendly fix” kind of situations. Instead, I rang my friend Valtteri, who had a bunch of sled dogs he’d gotten from me over the years.

“Do you have a snowmobile?” I asked. “Nope,” he replied. “But I can bring the dog team.”

Perfect.

 

A dog team to the rescue

So I waited in the silence until Valtteri showed up with his team of eager dogs. We hooked them up to the front of the snowmobile, and with some pulling power (and a lot of encouragement), they managed to shift the back end out of the overflow.

That gave me just enough traction to power up the track onto firmer crust and get moving again.

 

Only in the North

And that’s the story of how I, a guy on a snowmobile, had to be rescued by a dog team. It’s not the kind of thing you plan for, but up here, it’s the kind of story you never forget.

Only in the north.

— Valentijn Beets

Bearhill Husky