Anyone can ride a snowmobile … and any idiot can crash one, too

We have diverted from the hard-pack trail and are gliding through an ethereal forest glade, a Narniaesque vision of mottled aspens sprinkled with frozen fractals, cushioned by marshmallow puffs of freshly-fallen snow. My heart sings with enchantment, relishing the thrill and freedom of snowmobiling through the pristine backcountry of Brian Head ski resort in southern Utah.

But as I round a corner, my exaltation vanishes as I feel my vehicle sink and slide, the loose powder negating my steering and dragging me away from my guide’s tracks. I panic, my horse-rider’s instincts kicking in with a “whoa boy” pull on the reins – ie, the throttle – which, of course, has the opposite to the desired effect.

With a roar, I accelerate full-force towards a rogue tree, “is this the way I’m going to die?” a cognitive flash before I slam into the trunk with a sickening thud. On impact, I catapult into the air like a ragdoll, landing inelegantly in a thigh-deep bank of snow, unhurt, but dazed by what feels like a near-death experience.

Miraculously, my snowmobile has also suffered minimal damage, with just a plastic side panel cracked and splintering. Dragging the machine back onto the firm pack, my guide Kaden chastises me for not hitting the kill switch – the very first thing he taught us - when I sensed trouble, before encouraging me to climb back in the saddle to continue our tour.

Now, however, the bravado I’d experienced before the accident has vanished; I’m a nervous wreck, terrified of losing control again. I progress at a snail’s pace, daunted by the power of my machine and holding up the other riders as I inch along the trail.

My knuckles hurt from gripping the handlebars; but with every corner, I start to get the feel for my snowmobile and how it responds to my weight shift – a little like skiing. Getting a rhythm is paramount; and as I slowly relax into the groove, I begin to understand how addictive this mode of transport can be.

It is at an overlook showcasing Cedar Breaks National Monument that I really appreciate the ride I have endured. The craggy red canyon dusted with snow is truly a sight to sooth the most agitated of souls.

Unfortunately for me, these views come at a price – the excess on the damaged snowmobile. The seemingly superficial damage is quoted at $US400 ($635); and even if I had taken out a Winter Sports Travel Insurance policy (which I foolishly hadn’t), most only cover medical costs, not collision damage.