Dashing through snow, on a two-man machine

MAMMOTH LAKES -- After 30 minutes on the tree-lined trail, as the verdant forest gives way to a vast field of glistening snow, throttles open and human-powered rockets burst to life.

Such is the sensation, anyway, as powerful snowmobiles practically zoom from beneath their riders, who hold on with glee and don’t dare slow down because this is just too much fun.

“It’s like you’re 16 all over again,” says Jane Strand, riding double with 10-year-old Aaron Neil, who’s holding tightly to her waist, wishing he were 16 so he could drive.

Strand’s husband, Larry, is on another double with their 6-year-old son, Steven.

On yet another double are Annetta Fourkiotis -- “I’m Greek,” she says, after spelling her name -- and Alois Groebner. Both are from Munich, Germany.

Kurt Hatterle, a visitor from Lodi, Calif., is riding solo.

All have come to ski or snowboard at Mammoth Mountain. All were in need of a diversion. So, like about 5,000 others each year, they ended up at Mammoth Snowmobile Adventures at the base of the resort, requesting a motorized wilderness tour.

“The landscape, it’s so beautiful,” says Fourkiotis, afterward confessing that the scenery is secondary to the rush one experiences when our guide, Kevin Peterson, gives the thumbs-up to bust loose.

Ours is a 90-minute journey -- at a weekend cost of $100 per single and $120 per double snowmobile -- through a minuscule portion of Inyo National Forest.

The company has access to 100 miles of trails, and on three-hour adventures riders can travel clear to June Lake and/or treeless Bald Mountain, which affords a 360-degree view of the majestic Eastern Sierra.

Because it’s winter, with bears in hibernation and other wildlife sparse, manager Mike Colbert says, there’s very little impact on the environment.

“In the springtime all our damage melts away,” he states, in reference to snowmobile tracks on the snow.

“All we leave are those tracks.”

Hikers in snowshoes, should they end up having to dodge the snowmobiles or cusp their ears as the machines roar by, may take exception with such a claim, but it’s a big forest with ample areas off-limits to motorized travel.

To be sure, there is plenty of snow.

Last season storms were brief and sparse. Riders had to negotiate around thin spots and the snowmobile season was cut short.

This season, thanks to a weeklong dumping to kick off the year, up to 10 feet of snow blankets the region and riders need only to exercise common sense.

Peterson lays out the ground rules at the outset of our morning sojourn, under a bluebird sky in the storm’s aftermath.

Always lean in the direction you’re turning because these machines can tip over, the guide says.

“Stay on the trail with the group,” he adds, “and if you do become lost, stop and stay put and I will find you.”

Peterson stresses this point, citing the time a man’s wife veered off and became lost. The guide went to find her, and while he was gone the husband panicked and embarked on his own search.

“Then he became lost, and I had to go and find him, and our tour was cut short,” Peterson explains.

Lastly, Peterson says, resist the urge to squeeze the throttle, especially in the trees, because trees don’t move and it hurts to run into them.

“This is not NASCAR,” the guide barks, as engines rev. “This is not the race of the century.”

For most, it’s difficult to resist the temptation to go fast, even if doing so means you are less likely to be able to appreciate the picturesque landscape.

Towering pines allow shafts of sunlight to beam cathedral-like to the glistening forest floor, and dappled shadows form spectacular patterns on the snow.

Yet riders must focus on the trail, and when they do open the throttle the noise reverberating inside their helmets resembles that of a high-pitched motocross race.

Fortunately, Peterson stops often so passengers can enjoy their surroundings.

More important, he turns them loose once they reach the Crater Flats “play area,” a treeless parcel so large it’s visible from the upper slopes of the ski resort.

The guide watches warily as even the parents with kids careen around an oval track like, as Strand says, adrenaline-fueled adolescents hell-bent for speed.

“This is so cool,” says Neil, in a muffled voice through his face shield.

Though there are much more experienced riders who live in the area and own their own snowmobiles -- their tracks are visible in even the deep powder off-trail -- this might as well be the X Games as far as this group is concerned.

“We like to get everyone to at least 25-30 mph,” Peterson says, as some among his group whiz by in a blur.

In fact, the guide is visibly relieved once the riders have convened behind his snowmobile, ready to resume the tour, their need for speed presumably satisfied.

Time to ascend, he says, and the group snakes up the foothills of Deer Mountain and pauses to gaze into one of the Inyo Craters, which were caused by volcanic eruptions.

These open pits, roughly 150 feet deep and 600 feet across, have steep walls that snowmobile drivers have dropped into at high speed and attempted to climb the other side.

“They don’t always make it,” Peterson says.

We’re not allowed into the crater, which is fine by a group that is content to enjoy a leisurely cruise back to the resort. After all, the riders agree, it’s close to lunchtime and a busy afternoon of skiing and snowboarding awaits.

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pete.thomas@latimes.com