The sound of something I missed all spring, summer and fall fills my ears. It is the first time I'm able to take my snowmobile out this winter, and the anticipation is killing me. I have been squirming and squiggling all day waiting for my dad to come home so we can go to our cabin on Lake Owen. Now, the time has finally come!
The sound of the pistons pumping up and down inside the cylinders increases as I apply more pressure on the throttle of my 1998 black 440 Arctic Cat. I zoom away ahead of my family. The sound of the engine at the higher RPMs reminds me of car races in the movies.
The frigid air rushes against my face as I ride over the bumpy terrain. It makes me so cold I want to close my visor, but I keep it open because I love the feeling of brisk air rushing at my face at these extreme speeds. It feels like I am flying over the snow on a miniature airplane. The incredible feeling sends a chill through my body, starting at my nose and ending at my feet.
The scent of exhaust and the crisp snow enhances this experience even more, taking me back to other times on snowmobiles, each an adventure. I need to take several deep breaths before I can completely inhale the wonderful aroma.
Around me, all I see is snow. The trees are weighed down so much that it seems like I'm traveling through a tunnel of ice. The bows of the trees seem to fold over me, as if trying to protect me. I feel safe and content, yet my excitement at being in this snow fortress grows.
We round the corner and ahead I can just see the small brown cabin at the top of the hill. Although I am glad we are here, I want to continue snowmobiling. It is getting late, though, so we have to stop. I help my parents bring in our belongings, and hop into bed.
Lying there, I try to absorb the experience. I close my eyes, inhale the warm, pine-scented cabin air, and drift off into a deep sleep, reliving the whole exciting experience of being in my winter wonderland.
This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.