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There's nothing like the first ride of a new snowmobile season to bring back memories of bygone years. While the snow has always been more or less the same, although it arrives in varying quantities, the sleds have been in a steady state of evolution. But I have to confess that my all time favourite machine is still my 1978 Cross-Country RV.
In the seasons prior to the 1977-78 release of the Cross-Country RV by Ski-Doo, Polaris dominated the cross-country racing scene. That year started out the same way. But by January 14, 1978, Blizzard Oil Ski-Doo driver, Gerard Karpik, had worked his way up to third place at Park Rapids, Minnesota.
Gerard Karpik's RV in the Snowmobile Racing Hall of Fame Museum
In mid February of 1978 Karpik earned the first of what would turn out to be four consecutive major cross-country titles that season. It was an unprecedented turn of events! Karpik, a 24 year old construction worker from Eveleth, Minnesota, was on a roll that didn't stop.
By January of 1979, Ski-Doo's ads read: "Same old sweet song! Every time Gerard Karpik mounts his Ski-Doo, the record books are re-written." January 13th, 1979, Karpik had 8 wins in 9 races (not all ICCSF sanctioned). The 1979 ICCSF High Point Championship was his before the season even ended.
With this kind of recommendation to go on, we picked our Cross-Country RV off the dealer's floor the moment we laid eyes on it in late 1978. It was used and had no warranty, but that didn't matter. We had our own Cross-Country Ski-Doo: a rare find.
Of course things are rarely what you expect them to be. David didn't like the machine. It was so light in the front end that he could load it in the back of a half ton truck by himself. I inherited it before the first season was out.
I, on the other hand, loved my RV. The biggest thing David complained about was that it leaped and bucked when you rode it. Personally, that wasn't a problem. All you really had to do was hang on with your knees like you were riding horseback!
That was when we discovered different riding styles meant choosing the sled that was right for you. Since I have weak wrists I loved a machine with easy steering. Even more though, it was great to drive up to other machines where they were firmly lodged in a snowbank, help pull them out, then drive away. The RV was too light to sink.
Other Cross Country RV riders, or Cross Country Sonic, as the model was called in the Moto Ski line, said the machines were unrollable. However, they were wrong. I did make several snowflake inspections - and not ones where I was bucked off either!
Probably the biggest difference between the RV and the other sleds of its era was the overall increase in the width of the machine. It was especially noticeable when touring along bush trails. Where other machines buzzed through, I scraped the edges. Gates were another concern. If I didn't line the machine up absolutely square I left a little paint on one of the posts.
The Cross-Country RV came equipped with a 340 free air engine. While that was enough for Karpik, who was in a class limited to 45 horsepower, and could drive full speed all the time, it wasn't sufficient for a rider who dawdled over the rough stuff and tried to catch up through the open fields, like me. David set a 500 fan cooled engine under the RV's hood and brought her to life.
Now I had it all - handling I loved, and all the speed I needed. We logged on mile after mile just trail riding and poker derbies. No matter what the weather was, I was warm. With the venting system in the hood from the free air engine, I always had a warm blast from my new fan cooled engine. Our youngest son, by then a couple of years old, rode thousands of miles fast asleep in my arms, lulled by the RV's new purr.
But every once and a while our trail rides hit rough terrain and the RV had to show her stuff. By far the most memorable ride was a poker derby we rode without the kids, through a locale I didn't know, although it was close to home. As usual, I fell behind going over two or three miles of roller-coaster snowdrifts up an abandoned road.
I left the back road with the sun in my eyes, and the rest of the crew charging into an open stubble field in front of me. I hammered the trigger. Within a few miles it occurred to me that everyone else had suddenly disappeared. I looked left and right. Still lots of tracks. And all going straight ahead.
I accelerated a little harder. Trigger down, as they say. Full speed ahead.
To be honest, I knew what was going to happen at least a full second before it did.
In front of me was a coulee. A very deep coulee. And I was still going as fast as the machine would. I said, without thinking, "Oh shit, I should've stopped!"
Of course I couldn't.
Instead, I flew ahead, over the top of the RV, hitting what was exposed of my chin under my new full-face helmet on something in the process. To this day, I can still feel a jab of pain when I touch the spot.
I fell, ever so slowly through the crisp winter air, and landed, with a thump, in the crunchy snow, on my back.
Before that instant, I never knew that people dropped faster than snowmobiles.
For indeed, when I blinked my eyes, the RV was still coming. It was a large, black rectangular rubber bottomed beast looming above me.
I don't know how far away the RV actually was, but I had time to wonder if it was going to land on me, while I watched it fall.
It didn't.
The RV hit the ground beside me with a thud, spraying me with snow. At that point, I closed my eyes. And sighed. I could've reached out and touched the sled. Instead, I passed out.
When all was said and done, I'd cleared a coulee about 60 feet deep and landed on the edge of a summer fallow field. The area had originally been marked off with a red ribbon. Unfortunately, the first driver who couldn't stop went over the edge, taking the ribbon with him. Everyone else in my group either remembered the coulee and took the long way around, or slowed down enough to creep down the bank.
The full-face helmet I was wearing saved me from major damage. I also learned not to say "Oh shit," as it causes you to bite your tongue in a crash.
My Ski-Doo Cross-Country RV survived equally as well. All that happened was both of the rails in the suspension had a seven inch bend in the middle. David pounded them straight with a fourteen pound sledge hammer!
However, the machine made another thirty miles after its jump, without causing any problems. It was easy to see how Gerard Karpik had managed to ride those cross country races with such success!
I rode my Cross-Country RV for at least five years, while David and the kids all got new Moto Ski models every year or so. In order to make me fit in, David even painted my RV a bright Moto Ski orange. In my opinion, it wasn't nearly as beautiful as it had been in yellow.
Eventually I gave in and got another new sled. But nothing ever filled the space in my heart that my Cross-Country RV occupied.
"Ride With the Champs" RV in the Snowmobile Racing Hall of Fame Museum
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