blacks don't snowmobile

​I believed I was “called” to attend a conference entitled, “Hope For The City” in Atlanta, Georgia in early March of 2024. I chose not to go, I guess because of my aversion to cities.
I suppose this sort of aversion was really defiance against God, or the universe, or source, or whatever you believe. This deliberate act on my part, I could rationalize, and I did. After all, humans have free will, and dammit I can do what I want.
So here I sit in my long johns because I just got in from a very wet and cold ride. I’m in Ontonagon, in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan at the beginning of a long E-bike ride to Schaffer, Michigan. Why? Well, I guess I am not entirely clear myself, the ride is partly a charity event sponsored by me (the only participant) and partly to show the public that an E-bike event could make up for the financial loss to the economy due to the lack of snow this past winter, no snow, no snowmobilers. I might add E-bikes in the north are mostly a Caucasian affair unless you are on a university. This economic bombshell I believe, is due to climate change, but some folks up here still believe that guy with the dead orange squirrel on his head who has convinced them that climate change is a hoax. But hey, what do I know?
Anyway, my point is, that the snowmobiles are mostly all white guys and gals who come here to roar through the woods at death-defying rates of speed, often mixed with gallons of beer.
Have you ever seen an African American on a snowmobile? Or of any sort on a snowmobile? Bet you haven’t. Have you ever asked yourself why? I've got a hunch that African Americans have valid reasons for not heading north anywhere in the midwest, because of a fear, fear of what might occur once they pass Clare headed north. Even as a child I sensed the exclusion of Blacks was real, though I think mostly subconsciously. In fact, when I was maybe 9 or 10, I once remarked to my father, who was an ardent liberal, I might add, that there should be a chain link fence going east and west across the state at Clare and that no one who lived south of this razor-wire fence should be allowed north. Of course, I didn’t realize it at that time, but I had absorbed unconsciously the intolerance and prejudice of my northern culture.
Of course, any critic of this theory could argue that blacks just don’t want to come north, because, you know, blacks don’t like the cold, which I might add strikes again at the very ridiculous notion that the rural north is not prejudiced. To some degree it just is. Now I know some of you might say, “well I’m not prejudiced.” Maybe so, if you aren’t I suspect that you must have been born and raised in some other country, maybe Switzerland or Sweden or maybe in a shoebox. But hey, I’ve never lived overseas so what do I know anyway? Perhaps the whole damn world is racist.
So how does this essay tie everything together? Well, I believe the view that Blacks don’t come north to snowmobile is a tandem track to my aversion to cities, i.e. lots of black folks. I wish I could just lobotomize this out of my head, of course without the painful and illegal surgery necessary, but I can’t. I am what I am and I can only hope that the ugly face of racism is excised out of our culture in the future. At this point, I take responsibility for my prejudice and will ardently work to reverse it.
At some point, snow permitting, I would love to snowmobile with an African American on the many beautiful trails in the Upper Peninsula. And hey, we could even stop for a beer at some out-of-the-way bar, somewhere on a trail, and have a burger and a beer. Now that would be snowmobiling at its best!
Or perhaps we could take an E-bike trip here in the north with a friend or companion of color when the leaves are dripping with red and gold. That would be a great way to introduce my friend to the far north. We all have a lot to learn from each other. And for now, let’s skip the lobotomy.