Patience and Motorsports

When I was about twelve years old I had a crush on a boy named Adam. (He is of course married now heh.) His grandparents had a house out by the lake in Terrace.
Since Terrace is halfway up the western coast of Canada, the lake froze over in the winter. And Adam's family had some good toys. Now, my friend Lisa had been promising for a couple months that she'd show me how to drive a snowmobile, but we never got around to it. So, having mused this aloud, Adam's dad suggested he take me for a spin.
So, twelve years old and all snow-suited up, we head outside. Adam points out the parts that make it go vroom - and that's about all I can remember. I recall sitting behind him to get the feel of it, and wanting to giggle incessantly. After a while, he let me drive. We went around the (very large) yard, and then I got stuck. We got off, and Adam told me to "pull on the ski." And so I did. We got the snowmobile out, and I drove around some more. And I got stuck again. "Pull on the ski." Lather, rinse, repeat. One of the last times (and it must've happened around half a dozen) the "pull on the ski" was prefaced by a dramatic sigh. But for a 12yr old boy, he displayed remarkable patience!
To this day, it's one of my best memories. Good company, and horsepower. Who could ask for anything more?