Flakes fly as first-time snowmobiler tries her hand

Never underestimate the allure of escapism in times of economic distress. For some, it’s the siren song of the couch that appeals. But for me, it’s an outdoor experience that’s motorized, adrenalized and lived entirely in the moment.

Right about now, that means snowmobiles -- mean, not-so-green riding machines that slide into action at the press of a button, slipping through corners and kicking up fluff.

The best place for wannabe snowmobilers to indulge in this decidedly un-SoCal activity is Mammoth Lakes. It’s a five-hour drive, but, hey, gas prices are low right now -- and, relative to other paid-by-the-hour power sports, so are the rental rates for snowmobiles. Prices start at $65.

Specifically, the place is Inyo National Forest, a 2-million-acre patch of wilderness embedded with 100 miles of trails groomed for winter. Two snowmobile outfits are permitted to buzz around those trails -- DJ’s Snowmobile Adventures and Mammoth Snowmobile Adventures -- but don’t be fooled by the similar names. About the only thing these two places have in common is the type of machines they rent. The “adventures” they provide couldn’t be more different.

DJ’s is an acronymic, if grammatically inaccurate, tribute to owners Don, Jewel and Shannon Little, who have owned the place since 1981. While the vibe isn’t exactly mountain man, it’s definitely low-key, down-home and welcoming, partly because it’s a family business, but mostly because of the trailer that serves as its rental shack and its location, which is far removed from the shimmer and sheen of Mammoth Village.

I was staying in town, so I had to get back in my car and head north on U.S. 395. No need for an address. You couldn’t miss the dozens of candy-colored machines parked in the bright, white snow. From there, 500 acres of high-altitude air and tree-trimmed vistas awaited.

I’m a motorcyclist, but I’d never thrown a leg over a snowmobile. Novices like me, it turned out, are the main renters of snowmobiles in Mammoth. I got a five-minute walk-through of the basics before I was handed the keys and left to yank the cord.

A snowmobile starts like a lawn mower. It also sounds like a chain saw and smells like a leaf blower, but its handling was a lot more intuitive than a utilitarian outdoor power tool. The center of gravity is low to the ground, and the power is easy to control.

Most of the tours at DJ’s are self-guided. If I’d wanted someone to lead me into the woods here, I would have needed to corral five more people for a day trip, or three more for the overnight tour packages DJ’s has launched this season. As daunting as that may sound for a city girl used to driving around with the benefit of street signs, the trails were well-marked with numbered orange ribbons tied onto the pine trees, so I didn’t feel as though I could get lost. Gretel couldn’t have done a better job.

The speed limit was a little restrictive, though. The maximum DJ’s allows is 20 mph, a rule that was reiterated on the laminated sheet taped to my ride’s banana seat. Moving my eyes up to the dash, the speedometer maxed out at 120, tempting me. Snowmobiling so slowly was like driving a Ferrari in rush hour -- unbearable. I squeezed the thumb throttle a little harder and picked up the pace, only to be reminded of the reason for the speed limit at a bend up the trail. A single snowmobiler sat idle in the middle of the road near a pair of tracks that had cut through the virgin snow; her companion had just skidded over the embankment and was lying on his side 20 feet down.

Like anything else in life, riding a snowmobile has its risks. But it also has its rewards, which, for me, are linked to speed.

Faster action can be had at Mammoth Snowmobile Adventures, which is a slicker operation overall. It has been owned and run by the Mammoth Mountain Ski Area since 1997 and is based in a small, brown shack and has a more classic ski lodge feel. It costs more than DJ’s, but it’s also more convenient if you’re staying in town and skiing or snowboarding: It’s just across the street from the Mammoth Mountain Inn, near the ski lifts.

Many of Mammoth’s snowmobile tours are guided, which makes them a social experience as much as an adrenaline rush or communion with nature. My particular tour included nine other riders and lasted 1 1/2 hours. My group, led by a 30-year-old snowmobile bunny who had been skidding his way along the area’s serpentine trails for the last seven years, averaged 40 mph and occasionally revved it to 60.

Eyes trained on the snow, body hanging off the saddle, I was entirely in the moment, far removed from my daily concerns and reality. At $100, it wasn’t the cheapest of cheap thrills, but it was its own form of therapy.

susan.carpenter@latimes.com