Proof The Bible Is True

Wind whipped through my hair as I flew over the snow. It was glorious! Until my snowmobile sputtered beneath me. Not again. I slowed to a stop. My friends zoomed ahead on the snow-covered trails through the woods, maneuvering easily, dodging trees and rocks.

 

I’d never ridden a snowmobile before today. But when I met some folks who invited me up to the trails outside Twisp, Washington, I jumped at the chance. Excitement? Count me in. I went scuba diving, climbed mountains, even jumped out of airplanes. Did I ever worry about hurting myself? Never! I was young and invincible. I’d gotten a few bruises here and there, but I couldn’t imagine getting seriously hurt. Not me. Especially on this slow-mobile I was riding.

 

One of the group headed back toward me. “Conked out again?” he said as he swished up beside me.

 

I lifted my goggles. “Yes. Again. This is frustrating.” Speeding through the snow was so much fun, but sputtering to a stop every 10 minutes was anything but. We’d been out over an hour and I wanted to race over the snow.

 

“Why don’t we switch?” he said.

 

“I was hoping you’d say that.” I quickly climbed onto his big, shiny snowmobile, put my goggles back on and tightened my helmet’s chin strap.

 

“This one’s more powerful than the one you’re riding,” my friend said.

 

“You need to be careful with it.”

 

“I can handle it.” I was an expert by now, after all.

 

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