A white space story

Good morning, Team!  It’s Friday!

Carole and I chose to raise the kids in a small town. The one she grew up in. I was far from metropolitan but I learned that “the good thing about living in a small town is everyone knows your business. The bad thing about a small town is…everybody knows your business.”

Carole’s Dad had the snowmobile bug too (I knew there was something special about this chick). A couple of Polaris sleds, well kept, perhaps this was my dowry? (Just kidding, folks).

When snow returned to the plains in 1997, the next generation wanted to go sledding and fired up the dusty rustys. Except for the damn banker. He loved ’em too and decided it was time to invest in new technology. Even worse, he allowed everyone to try out the new ride and every one of us who felt their elbows being pulled out of their sockets on the vintage snow scooters now had to have a new one, too. It was like riding on air, it had hand warmers, the suspension absorbed bumps so your back didn’t have to. It was heavenly.

If you haven’t lived in a small rural community, you haven’t experienced keeping up with the Joneses. If someone else had something nice, we all wanted it, wanted to pay a nickel less and get it a week newer. I was not immune.

I broke the bank and picked up two “hold over” sleds (previous year’s models still in the crate) from the local dealer who nearly crapped his pants when I came back after the Goldie locks incident.

Goldie locks:
I brought the two sleds home, proudly displaying to mamma what I had purchased with our hard earned pennies. She took one quick look and said “but…where’s mine?” “This one’s too big and this one’s too small. What am I supposed to ride?”

So I go back to the dealer the next day and find the kid who ran my credit and told him I needed another, preferably with a second seat. He wasn’t worried about his additional commission check, he was wondering if my credit could take another hit. We found it, borrowed against it and hauled it home.

Eventually, I realized with a family of five, anything less than five sleds was a temporary situation. No one likes riding two up…even if the sled is made for it. Or so it was in my house. I fostered the environment and so I followed through and made sure we had licenses, helmets, boots, gloves, bibs, coats and of course a sled for every but(t).

My Kindergarten teacher said, “If you’re going to bring treats, make sure you bring enough for everybody.”

Have a blessed weekend!
Ride hard and be safe, powder hounds.