Ode to the Alpine
You may be surprised that I have a love affair with a snowmobile. I understand completely. It surprises me a little too.
The Bombardier Alpine is, indeed, a snowmobile. It’s kind of backwards, heavy, and pretty only to a very select few. At a first look it has two tracks and only one ski. The model went through a lot of iterations of engines; but the Canadian engineers finally settled on the 503 Rotax Electro. The 503 is aspirated by a single, simple Makuni 28mm carburetor that is enriched for cold starting by a simple primer pump directly feeding the intake. It’s got 20 bogey wheels on its two suspensions, and 11 grease zerks to pump on. The Rangers own two. We used to run three.
Like I said, the last 40 years with this machine and it’s predecessors, have given me an intimate knowledge of its workings, foibles and magic.
I don’t use the word ‘magic’ lightly.
Once mastered, the Alpine will work for you like your grandpa’s favorite horse. It will pull. It will pull cars out of a ditch. It will climb. It will…there’s got to be a word in ballet that describes making a corner, pivoting around a standing obstacle with grace, I’m sure the word is French; but when I do things just right with my body and throttle, it’s … magic. And I’m pulling some kind of steel contraption along with us.
I drive the Alpine standing up. The two guys who taught me how to become one with the machine showed me that the steering arm is only a suggestion to an Alpine; you must make turns with anticipation, and use your body. These guys were both long of 6’ and carried 100kg around. They could make the machine dance; literally. At first, I thought I’d never overcome the inertia of the Alpine with my smaller build.
I eventually did. I steer on packed snow by leaning opposite. We ‘fly’ the Alpine off piste by leaning, weighting the inside track. It’s flying in the fluid that unpacked snow actually is.
All that applied power, the torque; you’d think it would howl out there in the woods. Up here, we’re used to the screaming and rapping of the modern snow machine being driven by weekend warriors. The Alpine, under load, just hums. There have been many a skier who’s been completely surprised to see an Alpine coming up the trail at them, or coming up behind them. At a chain, the machine is almost silent.
I haven’t heard from any other Alpine flyers; I wonder if they’ve cooked on theirs like I have. The machine is warm, once working. There are two ports that direct hot air off the engine down on to your feet. All you have to do is double wrap a pastie (from Sidekicks in Iron Belt) and stick it up into the starboard port. Drag snow or set track for a couple of hours, dig the pastie out of the port and the thing is steaming. I have to put my choppers on to eat it.
Don’t do anything stupid on an Alpine. Don’t get them stuck. I have, many times. It takes a 2 ton come-o-long to get it back where you want it. One in ten people will never climb back on the machine a second time. It’s probably because I didn’t give them the proper instruction. I’ve never seen a woman operate one. Another reason why I know they’re smarter than the rest of us.
But give me some snow with body. Give me 10ºF and 9 gallons of gas. I’ll be out there dancing with the ugliest machine in the best of winter.
-CZ
