"Hey, watch this."

Granite. Snowmobiling and swimming combined. Heaven right? Usually yes. But today, no.

Sometimes I'm not the wisest or skilled snowmobile driver (only sometimes though). Exhibit A: today.

There I was thinking that I would be brave and take on the challenge of a big hill right off the bat. I figured it would be a good start to the day. So I take off, I swear I was hitting the gas hard enough. But I felt like my tracks just weren't digging in, I was fishtailing all over the place. Then the machine jerked to the right and before I knew it, I was sitting sideways on the mountain. I couldn't turn it back up the mountain, and I was scared that if I tried to turn it downhill, I was just going to just roll it down the mountain. So I stopped where I was. I waited for a minute, and finally my dad came back over the top of the hill. Together we dug it out, and rotated the machine enough for me to take it down the hill. It took a while to accomplish all that though. It was not fun. And it totally scared me to death.

I know it doesn't look that bad, but it was really steep, and the machine was really lopsided.

Oh wait. It gets better. This is where I turned really stupid.

There we were, driving around the open meadows, having a grand ole' time. I followed a set of tracks over a little hill, then towards some trees. I didn't realize how thick the trees were, or how much powder was there. I just thought the tracks would turn and head back towards the open range. A little too late, I realized that it wasn't looking good, but the powder was too deep to deviate away from the trail. Finally the tracks led off of a HUGE drop-off. There was no way I was doing that, so I took my only other option. I took off into the powder. I knew immediately though that I wasn't going anywhere. So I cut the engine and started hiking towards the open space so I could wave my group down as they hopefully drove past again. But the powder was so deep and so soft that I couldn't even walk. I had to crawl most of the way out. My group found me waving my coat in the air, and they came to my rescue. We were there digging the machine out for probably 30 minutes. Just me, Dad, Cortney, and Cortney's friend. Finally we got it turned around for my Dad to drive it off of the big drop off, then he was able to bring the machine back to where we started.

Moral of the story: Think about where you're going before you go. Also, if you're going snowmobiling with me, you should probably bring a shovel, and a couple strong men. There's a good chance that I may do something stupid, and having those things may help undo stupid.