POWDER PLAYERS

THE SNOWMOBILE MECCA OF AMERICA IS, WITHOUT A DOUBT, LOCATED IN MONTANA – PARTICULARLY, THE PORTION OF THE STATE OCCUPIED BY YELLOWSTONE NATIONAL PARK, WHERE “SLED” LAWS ARE LENIENT, THE SNOW IS DEEP, THE ROCK FACES ARE STEEP AND THE AVERAGE WINTER TEMPERATURE IS ABOUT 25 DEGREES. IN THE FOURTH LARGEST STATE, 3,700 MILES OF GROOMED SNOWMOBILE TRAILS MAKE THE MONTANA SNOWMOBILE ASSOCIATION (MSA) AS IMPORTANT AS THE NATIONAL RIFLE ASSOCIATION – WHICH IS NO SMALL DEGREE OF ESTEEM FOR THE INDEPENDENCEMINDED DENIZENS OF BIG SKY COUNTRY.

There are 23,000 registered snowmobiles in Montana, hundreds of which have been ridden or destroyed by a ragtag group of thrill-riders that call themselves the Slednecks. Seen Jackass: The Movie? Well, Johnny Knoxville and his prancing band of goofballs look like pansies next to these daredevils.

Since bursting onto the scene in 1998, Slednecks have developed into a top-notch professional snowmobiling team who pay the rent with the purses earned from races and freestyle competitions. While they've garnered a justifiable reputation on the circuit as breakneck daredevils, the group's most thrilling – or foolhardy – stunts occur in remote regions such as this, where the rugged landscape offers greater challenges. Using helicopters, Slednecks Team riders like Jason Burnside and Garth Kaufman seek out the most difficult back-country terrain that allows for access. Then they tear the shit out of it with their high-velocity snowmobiles. The resultant whiteknuckle antics are documented in the increasingly popular Slednecks video series (Peak Productions).

Twenty-one-year-old Kaufman, a Slednecks Team rider since 1999, gets a rush just from looking at a field of pristine, back-country snow. Originally from Alta, Wyo., Kaufman estimates his speed at 100 mph when he's bombing down steep faces. “I just love being able to scare myself,” Kaufman says. “To make my heart pound and my adrenaline rush. [My sled] can go 150 [mph] easily, if I want it to.”

Right now, Kaufman's sleds are “geared low” for competing in Snowcross events. But when his modified, 180-horsepower sled is set up properly, he cruises down the steepest and deepest snow on the most isolated back-country mountain fields faster than any snowboarder could dream of going. The rush is undeniable. Imagine carving through 10 feet of powder on top of a Yamaha RX Warrior that cranks out 145 horses with precision turning. It's in these situations that the boundaries of this sport are being constantly pushed further. “It's the best feeling,” Kaufman says. “It's what I look forward to all summer … I wish I had time to [back-country ride], instead of just racing all the time.” Which isn't to say that the competitive arena doesn't offer its own challenges. On the professional circuit, the stunts and tricks are getting more technical, the limits more extreme. When ex-snowboarder Jim Rippey busted out the first backflip on a snowmobile in 2001, flying 25 feet in the air (as chronicled in Slednecks 4), he caused ripples throughout the industry. Just four years later, pulling off a “backy” on a sled is a little more common, even though only six pro riders can brag of landing one.

Aside from the seeming death wishes of many professional snowmobilers, technological advancements have enabled the sport's ever-increasing levels of derring-do. With innovations in shock absorption and suspension, launching over houses, jumping 210-feet gaps (the world record set by Rippey) and dropping from 60-foot cliffs are now attainable sled stunts. “[Snowmobiling] has progressed a lot, as far as the equipment,” Kaufman says. “The suspension, the motors, the durability of everything has changed a lot. The progression of freestyle too – with people going from doing one-handers to flipping.”

But all those thrills don't come without a price. As might be expected, injuries are commonplace in this particular pastime. “In Slednecks 4, I broke my leg and the sled was completely ruined,” Kaufman says nonchalantly about a compound fracture he suffered after missing a ramp landing. As extreme snowmobiling grows in popularity, injuries are likely to become even more abundant, and the numbers are already staggering: Each year about 110 people die riding snowmobiles, and 13,000 emergency room patients are treated for sled-related injuries. Between 1990 and 2002, there were 375 snowmobile-related fatalities in Michigan alone.

None of which seems likely to deter the Slednecks crew from pursuing the pure adrenaline rush of blasting down womb-tight chutes at 100 mph, then dropping off a few cliffs before losing balance and eating shit head over heels, destroying an $8,000 sled on the way down. Such is the process of innovation. The Wright brothers tested and destroyed almost 200 designs before perfecting flight; why should snowmobiling be any different?

“I'll never stop doing it, whether it's on my own or with a company,” Kaufman proclaims. “As long as I'm physically able to ride a snowmobile.”

However long that may be is probably a matter of gravity, skill and pure, dumb luck.