With the passing of Don Williams,  there is a memory I would
like to share with the readers.  Don was my mom’s first cousin as their
mother’s were sisters.  During the late 60’s,  he joined the local group
of snowmobilers who gathered regularly at my folks’ place up here in the
hills for trail riding.  They went on weekends and had a small clearing
in our west pasture where they often stopped and fried steaks.  This is
in the deep woods along an old trail and was out of the wind no matter
which direction the wind was coming from.  They were diehard
snowmobilers and even went when it was way below zero!  Some of the
group were Duane and Donna Fugere, Bob and Donna Leonard,  George and
Patty Gottbreht,  Dick and Ruth Charrier,  Alan and Phyllis Campbell,�
Ray and Lois Hagel, Gary Metcalfe, Don Williams, and others I might have
missed.  They had a great time and were always ready to go again.

      Now the story about Don Williams.  One evening in the late 60s it
was real cold out and they decided to go for a ride.  I don’t remember
how many went that night but there were several including Don.  I was
home from college and was at my folks’ house as they were unloading
sleds and getting ready to leave in the dark.  They all left the yard in
a roar and were gone maybe a half hour when I heard my dad’s big Polaris
coming in the distance.  We had put dual exhaust pipes on it and the big
old Hirth engine made a very distinctive roar.  It was coming across the
field to the east of the yard and by the sound of it,  I could tell
there was something wrong.  I remember going to the door and watching as
Dad came up into the yard and headed straight to the door of the house.�
I opened the door and he basically yelled,  “Give me a hand!”  He jumped
off the sled and there sat Don behind him soaking wet and nearly
frozen.  I ran out and helped lift Don off the sled and into the house.�
Dad said to run and fill the bath tub with hot water. He got Don’s coat
and boots off and we got him into the bathroom so he could get into the
hot water and warm up.  Dad went and found some dry clothing and Don got
warmed up and dressed in Dad’s clothes.  By then I had found out what
had happened.  All the snowmobilers had been riding along in a row out
on Sucker Lake along the east side and they all stopped to talk over
where they would go.  As Don stepped off his sled,  he went through the
ice up to his neck.  He was sitting on top of a beaver run and didn’t
know it. They got him out and had to make over a mile cross country and
at below zero temperatures on an open sled.  Dons clothes were frozen
solid on the outside by the time they got to the house.  When Don came
out of the bathroom dressed in dry clothes,  they were laughing about
the incident.  Don asked Dad if he had any other winter gear? Dad said,�
“Do you want to go back out there?”  Don smiled and said he did and away
they went.  Those were some dedicated snowmobilers! Here are some
pictures of the group and the snowmobiles they had at the time. Thanks Gary!

Dick