RISE OF THE MACHINES
IN THE SNOW AND ICE OF ARCTIC ALASKA, SNO-GOS ARE A LIFELINE FOR THE PEOPLE BY PAUL D. ATKINS
T
he only thing you could see was the hood above the icy-cold water. I was still hanging onto the handlebars as the snowmachine’s track settled on the hard ice below, bringing me to a complete standstill. My snow pants and boots were full of water, and I was in panic mode, wondering if this was the end for yours truly. Luckily, I made it out of the overflow – water on top of ice – and built a fire to
warm up, easing the pain of what could have been a bad situation. The two guys I was with wrestled my machine from its slushy grave. It reminded me of what I should have done, as well as the fact that I was wasting valuable hunting time. This experience happened 20 years ago, but I still remember it like it was yesterday.
I MISS SNOWMACHINES. I long for the just “jumping on” of turning the key and going
– heading out of our Kotzebue, Alaska, yard towards Front Street and out onto the ice. It was fun, but even more so, it was freedom. There were those early morning meetings with Lew in front of the post office, deciding what we were going to do for the day. I miss it all. The snow and ice we had here in Oklahoma recently reminded me of all that and how much I truly cherish those Last Frontier memories, and it
It doesn’t matter whether you call it a sno-go, snowmachine or snowmobile, you need one if you live in the Arctic. They are easy and fun to run, and author Paul Atkins sure misses his from when he lived in Kotzebue. (PAUL D. ATKINS) aksportingjournal.com | APRIL 2022
ALASKA SPORTING JOURNAL
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