Snow Going

Snow is a fact of life in Maine, even along the coast where temperatures are milder than the interior. You can rail against it and stomp your feet until it finally melts away in spring---or you can play in it. I heartily recommend the latter.

In early February, the Owls Head Transportation Museum celebrated one of the many winter pasttimes here in the Midcoast: snow mobiling. In true fashion, the museum focused on the history of motorized sleds. Included were machines from the early days of the sport as well as a tracked Model T-style truck. Ironically, a major storm was forecast for the day of the event, keeping many of the exhibitors from trucking their snow machines from all over New England to the museum.

Even so, the event drew a pretty good crowd. Demonstrations included an old municipal truck-mounted snow blower, rides on the tracked truck and a parade of gasoline-powered snow mobiles from the past.

As always, visitors could tour the museum's exhibits of cars, airplanes, motorcycles and other transportation artifacts inside the main building. During the summer, events include a variety of car, motorcycle and aircraft rallies and shows. If you're lucky, you might win a ride in one of the museum's open cockpit bi-planes.

More on museum events in later posts! Check it out at www.ohtm.org

Sailing on the Edge

I hauled the mainsheet in tight and the starboard runner lifted off the ice. I tugged it in a little more and the iceboat took off like a shot, chattering across the rough ice at about 30 miles per hour. From my steering position a few inches above the surface---flat on my back and staring over my insulated boots---it felt more like 130 m.p.h.

Several tacks across the lake and I maneuvered the waterbug-like contraption back to shore where the boat's owner stood grinning, anticipating my reaction. Spinning the iceboat around into the wind, I rolled out while Wes set the brake, a toggle-like device on the front runner that digs into the ice. "Man, oh man, what a ride! That was fantastic!" I said, or something to that effect.

My friend Wes (in the photo) is one of a group of avid iceboaters in the Midcoast area who lives for those handful of days when the ice is thick enough and free of snow and the wind is blowing like stink---and, oh yeah, when all of this comes together on a weekend. (If the conditions are perfect, there's a good chance work will have to wait for another day.) They load up their boats---some on trailers, others disassembled and on car-top racks---and converge on one of several large lakes. A hot line provides weather forecasts and iceboating conditions.

Iceboating is a very social activity and a family affair. Usually, cars and trucks are pulled up close to the ice. Crates of equipment, extra sails, coolers and all sorts of stuff are tucked here and there. Barbecues are lit, food is cooked and cold hands are warmed, while kids run around doing what kids do.

Want to try it? Google Maine iceboating and you'll see a website called Maine Ice Sailors, which includes contact information. They should be able to tell you where you can watch the action---and just maybe how you can try your hand at the sport.

Down the Chute!

It was tough putting your finger on it, but there was something unusual about the people talking at the edge of the woods. Maybe it was the large moose hat with antlers that two of them wore. Or the guy in the orange Care Bear outfit next to the woman in a pink bear suit. Except that none of the other few hundred people walking around seemed to notice.

Welcome to The U.S. National Toboggan Championship.

Started as a lark by a handful of locals, the event celebrated its 18th birthday this February. More than 500 teams---consisting of two, three and four-person sleds---raced the clock down the slope over two days. The costumes were as fanciful as the names, like The Wing Nuts, Hogs & Heffers and Killer Honey Bees (yes, they were dressed as bees and their striped costumes with yellow stingers attached won Best Costume). Most of the teams were local, but some came from as far away as Delaware and Maryland.

Located next to the slopes at the Camden Snow Bowl, a small ski area a few miles from downtown, the wooden chute starts a short distance up the mountain and ends on the frozen surface of Hosmer Pond. Competitors carry their toboggans up a trail through the woods to the staging platform. When it's time to launch, the Chute Master trips a lever brake and the team lurches forward in unison, trying to get out of the gate as fast as possible. The fastest of the sleds break the tape at the end of the run about nine seconds later.

Need something to warm you up? No problem. The Chili & Chowder Challenge served up helpings of each, provided by local restaurants vying for top honors. Or bring your own barbecue, as many of the teams do.

If you feel you need a few runs down the chute before you're ready for the National Championship, the chute is open for business most days, temperature permitting. And it's cheap. The cost is $5 per person per hour and that includes the toboggan---if yours is still in the speed shop getting waxed.

For more information, contact the Snow Bowl: 207-236-3438