Blood on the Ice

     Ever have one of those moments where you are at the wrong place at the right time?   Have you ever been in a place where you know you really shouldn"t be but you went against your better judgement and it turned out for the best?  I know situtations like that rarely happen but for this moment it happened to me.

     It was January of 1996.  Tip-Up-Town was going on at Houghton Lake, Mi.   It is like a winter carnival on ice.  Growing up I loved going there and participating in some of the winter games of tug-of-war, egg catch, and pie eating contest.  The ice sculptures were always amazing and there was always an ice slide for the kids.  But Tip-Up-Town in a whole different blog by itself.

     I was a few weeks shy of turning 19 and in my second semester at Grand Valley State University.  The weekend was approaching and I mentioned to my friends about heading up to Tip-Up-Town and staying at our family cabin for the weekend.  A lot of them never heard of it and were ready to go check it out.  We loaded up 3 or 4 different cars and headed north for a fun filled weekend.

     We arrived Friday night and decided to check out the festival Saturday morning.  It was good and busy there.  One of my friends Rebecca and I participated in the pie eating contest, of which I got second.  My prize was a free dinner and drink to a local pub.  It wouldn't be so bad if I was over 21 but bragging rights was still there for second place.  I remember it being very cold and most of us started to huddle in the warming tent.  We decided to go home and to come back later in the evening for the dance.  It was fun as it should be.

     Sunday morning came upon us.  I was awake, along with just a few others, to greet the sun rising up in the east over the frozen lake.  It was quiet and peaceful except for the distant sounds of the snowmobilers darting back and forth in front of the cabin.  Small talk was spoken while some smoked their cigarettes and others drank their coffee.  While we talked we kept our eyes on the snowmobilers out front.  At some point of the freezing process of the lake the ice shifted creating a style of ramp out in front of our cabin.  The snowmobilers were having fun zooming  fast over the ramp and giving them a lift in the air on their snowmobiles.  It was cheap entertainment for us early risers.

     While we sat there watching, this one snowmobile was going extremely fast.  He went up on the nature-made ice ramp and lost control of what he was doing.  The snowmobile flew straight up in the air at a good height then did a flip forward and nose dived in the unyielding hard ice below.  The snowmobiler flew off the sky-rocketing machine like a rag doll and came crashing down onto the ice.  Upon impact with the ice his helmet popped off and slid across the ice spinning.  When we saw the snowmobile fly up into the air we all gasped.  It was like watching some action movie but you knew this was real and there wasn't an air bag below to catch the daredevil.  A few of us quickly stood up and others yelled out before the guy even hit the ground.  It was like everything happened in slow motion yet there was nothing anyone could do to stop what was about to happen.  We just knew it wasn't going to end nice.

     "SOMEONE RUN DOOR TO DOOR TO FIND SOMEONE WITH A PHONE AND CALL 911!" I yelled while dashing out the door in my socks and pajamas to the lake where the snowmobiler laid.  At that time most people didn't carry around cell phones.  Our cabin didn't have a phone line because we didn't use the cabin that much.  Beepers were not even around to the general person yet.  Our neighbors closed up their cabins for the winter so I wasn't sure who they could find to call.  I just prayed they had to find a phone and quick.

     The snow was about ankle deep with drifts here and there.  I didn't care.  This man needed help.  I couldn't feel the weather.  I think my body was in shock of what I had witnessed that it didn't care.   His friend/snowmobile partner was already there calling out his name, which I cannot remember, and not getting a response.  I knelt down beside him and took off his glove and held his hand and told him that help was on its way.  He had a sky mask that covered his face.  His eyes were closed.  He didn't move.  I was scared.  I looked around and seen pieces of his snowmobile laying about.  The skies were snapped off and broken.  The front hood was torn up and bits of it were lying around.  The plexiglass windshield was busted in a few pieces.  My God, how can anyone survive this?  Please let him be okay, I prayed to myself.

     I put my finger under his nose to feel his breathing.  It was light but I could feel it.  It was hard to see his chest rising with the heavy snowsuit he was wearing.  My roommate, Laurie, my friend Rhonda, and a few others came out with their blankets to put around him.  His friend wanted to see if we can move him off the ice and up closer to the road in wait for the ambulance.  We shouted no at him and let him know that we don't know his injuries and we don't want to cause further injury.  The ice was thick.  There was no danger of us falling through.  The best bet was to stay put.  Jon and a man we called Bing, two of the guys that were with us, came running out to us saying they got hold of a neighbor several houses down and called 911.  Good, I thought, he will get the help he needs.

     A few moments pass.  I guess in times like this the time cannot pass quick enough.  The friend reaches up and starts to pull away at the skimask the injured man was wearing.  We tried to protest but his friend said he was only going to remove it over his mouth only.  Tenderly the man slowly pulled the mask over his mouth.  I could see the lower part of his head.  Blood started to pool on the ice.  I felt so uncomfortable seeing that.  I rubbed his hand some more reassuring that the ambulance was on its way.

     At one point he started to moan and he tried to make some movement to sit up.  His eyes still couldn't open.  I laid my hands on his sholders and told him not to move, that he needed to be still.  Everyone was coaxing him that he could not sit up and to stay laying down.  He tried to resist but gave in and rested his body back on the ice.  I took his hand in my hand again.  My friends were still encircled around him giving him words of comfort and prayers.

     We start to hear the ambulance.  A few people ran up to the front of the cabin to wave down the ambulance.  They quickly come across the yard with a sled type of transport.  I released his hand and told him he was going to be okay now and I backed away to let the medical personnel do their work.  They gently placed him on the sled and hauled him off, blankets and all.  I looked back down and seen the blood stained ice and thought just an hour prior he was out here having a grand ol' time.

     A short time after that a wrecker came to pick up the pieces to the snowmobile.  A few of us walked around the ice picking up pieces and tossing them on the flatbed of the wrecker.  The blood still stood out against the white snow and ice like a sore thumb.  A few of the guys could tell we were bothered by it and grabbed more snow off the banks of the shore and covered it.  

     We went inside, all of us in shock of what just happened.  I soon started to shiver.  I don't know if it was because the cold finally sunk in or over the whole ordeal of what just happened.  I didn't even know where they took him.  There wasn't medical facilities around the area.  The closest ones that I knew of were either Cadillac or West Branch.  I heard his first name (which I forgot) but I never knew his last name.  I have no idea what ever happened to him.

     You see, I did not have permission to be at the lake.  I never told my mom that we were going to the cabin that weekend.  I guess that was part of my rebellious side that was still in me.  I begin to think what if we weren't up there?  I would of never had known an accident like that happened in front of our cabin.  His friend would of had to leave him alone to go find help, which wasn't close by.  He wouldn't of had the blankets to help keep him warm on the cold, hard ice.  He wouldn't of had the group of people around him giving him words of encouragement and comfort.  I hadn't been to Tip-Up-Town in about 10 years at that point.  The one year I decide to go back this happens.

     I do believe God does things for a purpose.  He puts people where they need to be in the manner that they need to be there.  We all complain about being caught up on traffic or being behind a slow moving car.  But perhaps we are there for a reason.  Maybe there is danger up the road and that slow moving car is preventing us from the danger at the moment.  You never know. 

First and Last Snowmobile Ride

As I look out the window at the finally fallen snow I know it won't be long before I hear the rumbling sounds of snowmobilers zooming out in the fields enjoying their time on their fast machine.  I reflect back to a time when I took my first ride in the drivers seat in one of those things....

     I was about 13 or 14 years old and my mom, sister Lisa, and Matt,a guy my sister was dating at the time went up to our family cabin at Houghton Lake, Mi.  We had an Arctic Cat snowmobile in our garage that my grandpa used to ride before he became sick and lost his battle with cancer a few years prior.  This was one of our first winters up to the cabin since the death of both my grandparents. 

     Matt, who has grown up around snowmobiles offered to take us out on the ice for some sledding fun.  And it was.  I would sit on the seawall and watch Matt and my sister go off on the frozen lake zipping back and forth.  Then it was my turn.  I remember it was fast and fun!  There wasn't any fear in it.  We would pass other snowmobilers and give a quick wave hi.  All was going well.

     We pulled the snowmobile around to the garage to put more gas into it.  I asked if I could drive it.  My sister quickly told me no.  Matt, thinking it over, told my sister that his younger brother,who is a year younger than me, can drive them and he thinks I could too.   She gave in reluctantly.  He gave me a quick lesson and how to move the handle bars forward for one direction and back for another direction.  He said while turning it might take a moment for the snowmobile to turn because of some sliding but don't worry about it. 

     I turn on the key and the motor starts.  I felt in total control and so much older.  I can do this, I thought, I can drive a snowmobile!  I look up at Matt and my sister, my eyes beaming through the tinted glass in the helmet.  I look forward and slowly move the gear forward.  The snowmobile lurched ahead.  My goal was to make a lap around the house and back.  I start to turn the handle bars to the left and the snowmobile kept going straight. 

     I panicked and that was putting it lightly.  Piled high in front of me two houses down was stacked wood for someone's fireplace.  I pictured myself hitting the woodpile and flying over the woodpile and smacking myself on their concrete driveway.  I couldn't remember which was the break and which was the side to make it go faster.  In my fear I squeezed the handlebars turning them both forward.  The woodpile came closer and closer.  I close my eyes to brace for impact.  CRASH!!! 

     I took a breath.  I was still sitting on the snowmobile.  I'm alive!  I didn't fly over this woodpile!  My sister and her boyfriend quickly came to my rescuse.  Matt turned off the key while my sister scooped me off.  She said I looked so funny as in one motion my body lifted up from the impact and came back down never letting go of the handlebars. 

     The snowmobile wasn't in that great of shape.  The left ski was all twisted and bent and the headlight and part of the hood was cracked.  We were able to bend back the ski and it was still usable but I sure wasn't going to be the one to use it. 

     Going into the house we told mom what happened.  Needless to say I was grounded and mom wasn't too thrilled either with the older two who let me do such a foolish thing.  The next day my muscles were so sore from bracing myself for the impact that it hurt to move.  It is twenty years later and I have never been back on a snowmobile and I still have no interest in riding one ever again.