It's been a heckuva winter for outdoor recreation. Skiing, snowshoeing, hiking, ice fishing, snowmobiling - you name it.

There's snowbanks out there right now that this boy hasn't seen in a lot of years. And there's more to come as we plow through March and into April.

One low point to the winter has been all the news of snowmobile accidents and fatalities. Nine dead thus far. Sad, very sad. And most often needless.

I wasn't paying much attention to the matter until the Fort Fairfield guy who went out snowmobiling dressed in a pea coat, T-shirt and shorts. Yeah, shorts. And, of course, he got lost and had to get fished out of the woods next morning pretty much near death from hypothermia.

Brilliant. Damn near a Darwin Award winner. Close but no cigar. Thankfully.

Can you say "common sense", dude?

Yeah, now that you're body temperature is back up to normal, I bet you can.

Since then, however, the snowmobile scene has gone from bad to worse. Way worse, with four fatalities just last weekend. Five, if you count the one early Monday morning, ostensibly right before the DIFW was to hold a news conference on the issue.

Speed and alcohol. Both are thought to be involved in three of the five fatal accidents.

Jeez. What the hell are you doing out there at 1 AM, 3 AM?

"Snowmobilers were urged Monday to slow down and use caution on the state's trails following the deaths of five riders in less than four days."

Please folks, please. And when you put the machine in gear, put that other thing in gear, too. That brain thing. It's pretty useful, but only if it's switched on.

The interactive snowmobile safety CD Right Right, Ride Smart is available from the Maine Snowmobile Association and the Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife.

Seriously, stuff happens out there on the trail. But a lot of it is preventable, especially when common sense is regularly employed.

Slow down, way down. Enjoy the ride, have fun. But do it safely. Live!

And maybe, just maybe, think about a refresher course in snowmobile safety, or a look-see thruough the Ride Right - Ride Smart CD. For you or someone you know. If it causes you or someone you know and love to pause and think - and live - then wouldn't it be worth it?

So, it's Sunday morning and you're sitting quietly on your veranda sipping your coffee and reading the newspaper.

No biggie right? A normal start to this laziest of days. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, if you're unlucky enough to be starting your Sunday in New Delhi, India you might just end up dead.

That's right. Attacked and killed by a band of monkeys-gone-mad.

Ouch!

Now, that's just no way to go. All that blood and gore. Screams waking the neighbors. And a good cup 'o Joe gone to waste.

Damn monkeys.

We may not have 'em here in Maine, but nonetheless, I'm gonna keep an eye peeled on the woods out back of the house next Sunday morning I'm telling you.

Cause there's some bad wildlife out there, I just know it. Rabbits. And not ordinary rabbits, mind you...

Killer rabbits!!!

Repairs to the raft were top priority last weekend in preparation for an upcoming fun-filled weekend of splashing down the Kennebec River with friends. Several leaky valves were overdue for replacement and, with the help of some marine glue, elbow grease and sunshine the job got done.

But with that, and unpacking from the Cohos Trail (yes, still) and packing for a trek out west not far off, the weekend was shot. So it goes.

On the entertainment front, however, I did manage to get in a few laughs with the movie The Darwin Awards. I'm a sucker for a good laugh, and people who do incredibly stupid things and then end up dead just crack me up for sure.

Makes me a sicko maybe, but it damn sure puts a big smile on my face. If you haven't seen The Darwin Awards do rent it and enjoy.

Post-movie I couldn't help but take another look at The Darwin Awards website and get a few more chuckles. I was particularly interested in outdoors people who had managed to give themselves the axe, so to speak, so I typed a bunch of different things into the search box to see what I could find.

And here, for my adventurous Trail Heads friends, are a few accounts of hilarious death and disorder that will be sure to entertain:

Hiking: Yosemite hiker with sore feet

Canoeing: Hurricane Blumpkin runs the rapids

Camping: What's under the hood matters (Honorable mention)

Biking: Airport no place for a bike

Skiing: Don't steal the foam padding

Snowboarding: Washed out on Rainier

Snowmobiling: The snowmoboater

And my all-time, pee-your-pants favorite Darwin Award (even though it only merited an Honorable Mention, i.e. the guy lived)... Lawn Chair Larry!

Finally, in the Can-You-Top-This? category: The flying lawn chair

Hump day tomorrow! Make it a good one. But please don't do a Darwin!

Good Thanksgiving Day morning to my Trailhead friends! From down south... in southern New Hampshire.

The family has just returned from participating in the annual 5K Turkey Trot, sponsored by the Greater Derry Track Club.

While most ran the route around pretty Beaver Lake, we walked some and jogged some (my well-used knees don't need any more pounding!). And finished a respectable 400th something out of 400-something.

With the day's outdoor exercise in the bag, and the turkey in the oven, I have to time to bother you.

So what's up?

Not much you say.

Hey, have you heard the big news?

Two Einsteins up in New Sharon decided to make off with a couple cases of beer from a delivery truck.

The good stuff. Old Mill and PBR.

Implementing their well-thought-out escape plan they sped off, then doubled back past the store where the theft took place. Apparently so folks there could get a good second look at the car and their plate number.

Brilliant.

Within 20 minutes police caught up with the beer perps at a local home, the canned loot right there in the open in the dooryard.

When asked why they did it one of the men replied that he "thought it was a good idea at the time."

Guess you would, when your IQ is roughly equivalent to the alcohol content of the beer you ripped off.

Hmmm, speaking of beer, I do believe that's my brother (and today's turkey chef) coming towards me with the day's first adult beverage. How can I refuse such hospitality?!

Hope you all get lots of good eating and family-ing in. Time to relax. Much to be thankful for, for sure.

Maybe see you on the ski slopes later this weekend.

What's going on where you are today? This weekend?

I've seen a lot of strange and very often stupid things happen around a campfire over the years, for sure.

A little too much Coleman fuel here. A errant hot marshmallow there. A heavy dose of Jose Cuervo all around.

Clothes set afire from popping sparks and flying embers. Boots and sneakers melted into globs.

Nearby grasses and overhead tree branches set aflame, requiring a bucket brigade to douse the conflagration.

Hot pots tipped and contents spilled onto tender toes. Hands and fingers crisped in similar fashion.

I've even witnessed friends trip and stumble onto the hot coals, but quickly pull away.

The list goes on.

Until today, however, I'd never heard of anybody falling into a campfire. Remaining there. And dying.

But that's apparently what happened to a Rockport man recently.

Yep, fell into his campfire and died.

Details of the tragic incident TBA by the state M-E.

Wonder if the demon alcohol played a role?

Hmmm...

Darwin Award?

Maine could have picked up one, two, possibly even three Darwin Awards over the weekend.

Yep, when three men fell into a 60-foot gorge up in Alder Stream Township in the middle of the night Friday, we were looking pretty good.

But firefighters, EMTs and wilderness rescue teams saved them from themselves and their own stupidity.

And dashed our hopes of a Darwin Award.

Oh well. Not to worry.

Surely there will be more opportunities. As long as there are men, machines, nighttime, a good quantity of alcohol (not mentioned, but implied in this story), and a burning idea like, "Hey, whaddaya say we go..."

Glad you made it out boys. You were damn lucky.

And kudos to the rescue folks who always seem to get the tough job done, even when there's not much in the way of DNA involved.

In September 2004 the NBC News show Dateline aired a special with Tom Brokaw on the incredible story of Aron Ralston.

Ralston, you'll recall, is the adventurer who got himself stuck in a remote Utah slot canyon, his right arm pinned by a boulder. And there he stayed, trapped for six very long days and nights, tinkering and trying every conceivable way to extricate himself, all the while growing physically weaker, exhausting his meager stock of food and water, amid slowly eroding hope of ever seeing his family and friends again.

But on the sixth day he did the unthinkable, and at that point, the only thing left that he could do to free himself: He cut off his right arm above the wrist with a now dull knife blade from his mini-leatherman. He then gathered himself up, retreated down canyon, rappelled down a cliff, and hiked out until finally he was found by a group of hikers and ultimately rescued.

It's a tremendous story of courage and survival!

And one in big demand apparently!

Because for more than eighteen months now, since I taped the original show, I've been beseiged by people from around the world requesting a copy of my grubby little VCR tape.

Not having a fancy for breaking copyright laws and going to jail, however, I politely declined all requests. But I'm delighted that now you and everyone else can get to view Ralston's story.

Yes, that's right.

If you are one of those who never got to see the original show when it aired, you'll be pleased to know it's now been released on DVD.

Enjoy!

Mother Nature sure can be cruel to some people.

Like to Tim Cook, who, apparently upset with being thrown out of a kegger, used signal flares to try to torch the party house. In the process he managed to set his pants on fire and needed the Portland fire department to extinquish his on-leg campfire.

This brilliant string of events promptly landed the DNA-challenged Cook in jail.

Bravo!

I hereby nominate Tim Cook for a Darwin Award!

When you shoot a deer you'd better make it good apparently. Or else you may end up getting thrashed, as did a Mississippi hunter recently.

When Lonnie Jones ducked into the brush to retrieve the trophy that he'd just downed with his muzzleloader, the not-quite-finished buck decided to come after him. And managed to land a few healthy kicks to his butt, actually lifting him off the ground each time.

The buck succumbed, however, and Jones got his prize, but not before he was good and black and blue.

Now I wonder, if Jones didn't have a gun and had to wrestle this particular deer to the finish, it might well be Jones' flank simmering away in the cast iron fry pan amid the onions and garlic today.

Food for thought.

A teenager used a floatation noodle--like one you'd use in your backyard swimming pool--to rescue a man who'd swamped his canoe on the St. Croix River.

Pretty quick thinking.

And a good thing for the drunk guy in (or out of, as the case may be) the canoe.

Yes, drunk apparently.

Very nearly another Darwin Award winner.

There really is no limit on stupidity, is there?

You gotta love the criminal mind. Or lack thereof.

A Pittston man made his getaway from the scene of a crime in a...

... canoe!

[Excuse me while I pee my pants laughing]

Wow. That must have been some chase. Paddling down the Kennebec at a couple of miles an hour.

Can you just picture it?

Oh no, they're catching up. Wish I had a better J-stroke. Damn these Old Towns are slow. Shoulda got a Lincoln!

And you thought a white Bronco going 20 miles an hour on an L.A. freeway was boring!

Anyway, the guy finally smartened up a little, ditched the canoe, and tried to steal a motor boat.

Nice try Einstein.

But the boat wouldn't start, and with the cops in hot pursuit, he did the next best thing.

He dove in the water and swam away!

[I'm just dying here]

But the police had a boat with a motor that actually worked, caught up to him, and made the arrest in mid-stream.

It could only happen here...

I'm not sure just what got into me yesterday afternoon, but I decided to Google for "stupid hiking tricks" just for yucks to see what might pop up. Like maybe something stupid I've done out in the woods. Or Dan. Or John. Or any of a few other MOAC friends I know that have survived their share of stupid moments outside and lived (barely) to tell about it.

Disappointingly, not much showed up in the search, except for an entry in Laurabelle's Blog describing a weekend hike that she and a friend took in Olympic National Park in Washington. Part way through the hike she had a moment of inattention and took a digger off a high mountain pass, flew down a talus slope, and suffered minor injuries. Her friend and another group of hikers finally pulled her to safety.

It's an interesting story with some nice photos of hiking in the Olympics. Worth checking out.

Any of you want to share a tale or two of your not-so-bright hiking antics over the years? I'll bet you've got some good ones. I will if you will. Let's hear 'em...

On Friday night, September 10th, NBCs Dateline aired the incredible story of Aron Ralston, the 27 year-old Colorado adventurer who cut off his own arm in order to extract himself from a slot canyon in the Utah wilderness where he had been trapped for six days. I taped the show--Desperate Days in Blue John Canyon--and watched it spellbound last evening.

Ralston's story is beyond amazing. I'm still shaking my head. Could I--could you--cut off your own arm to save your life? It's hard to say isn't it? I've been in some pretty sticky situations in the backcountry, but nothing--nothing--even remotely approached what Ralston experienced. Six days in a remote canyon with your right armed pinned by an immovable boulder, with enough supplies to last only for a day hike, and with hope dwindling even more as each hour, each day passed. But finally, with a do-or-die determination, Ralston summoned the courage to do the unthinkable--to free himself and live--by sawing off his arm with a dull knife. And after that incredible act, to have the strength to get himself out to help. Unbelievable!

Not to take anything at all away from Ralston, but it's likely that the ordeal could have been avoided had he not broken one of the cardinal rules of backcountry travel: Tell somebody where you're going and when you expect to be back. Ralston repeatedly stressed that fact during the interview. All backcountry traveler's should heed his advice, even for short trips away from the road and car.

I'm ordering his book Between a Rock and a Hard Place as we speak. I'm figuring it will be a great read.