Special Editorial by Mark Lester

The phone rang in the fall of 1983 at Kent’s and my automotive business in Hamilton, Ontario. Someone claiming to be CJ Ramstad was on the line. I laughed at the caller and asked: “Who is this, really?” I suspected a friend who had heard about my invitation to snowmobile legend, CJ Ramstad, to come for a ride in Haliburton County, was kidding me. The caller persisted. After picking myself up off the floor I realized it really was the guy I respected… even revered. It was CJ Ramstad.

“So, you’re gonna take me snowmobiling in Haliburton County this winter?” The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I replied: “You bet!” It was the stuff dreams are made of. This icon of the sport was going to travel from Minnesota to Ontario, Canada and ride my snowmobile club’s trails for two days.

This was all in advance of a feature CJ wrote and published showcasing Haliburton County in Snowmobile Magazine back in 1984. After that initial contact I stayed in touch with CJ and we became acquaintances. I would call him a couple of times a year to ask his opinions on new sleds, insights on the sport and generally do what readers do to me now: pick my brain for interesting secrets about new sleds.

One time, I asked him this prying question, the answer to which would tangibly affect my life: “If you tell the truth… tell it like it is as a journalist, will you ultimately succeed?”

As the years rolled on Kent and I were able to fulfill our dream of being involved in the snowmobile publishing business with our then relatively small, Canadian based Supertrax Magazine. When the time came for Supertrax to spread its wings and become Supertrax International, entering the US marketplace, a call went out to CJ and a partnership and friendship soon began. It endured until last Sunday afternoon.

Working with CJ in the early years I remember his answer to my question about telling the truth, snowmobile politics and the sport. His answer? “Yes, tell the truth. Don’t side step it and it’ll come back good to you. You’ll succeed if you give readers what they want – the truth.”

Together, success followed. As a team, Supertrax rose to the top of the snowmobile publishing business in both the US and Canada.

Last Sunday, when CJ lost his life, he was the most experienced, fully active and involved snowmobile journalist in the industry. His years of editorializing and covering the sport span the entire modern era of snowmobiling from the late 60’s until today.

His ability to interpret “new ideas” was amazing, if not comical. He liked to remind us at Supertrax the best stories are not about snowmobiles but about people. And CJ knew people. A friend of industry icons like Edgar Hetteen, Roger Skime, Ralph Plaisted, Ed Skomoroh, Ole Tweet, the list goes on and on. Without a doubt, CJ told great stories about great people he knew well.

CJ mentored an incredible number of protégés over his illustrious career. I’ve spoken with many of them this week, sharing personal stories of Clifford-John. We’ve laughed, we’ve cried and we’ve been moved by the scope of his ability to teach, mentor and instruct.

When it comes to protégés, no one served under CJ longer than me. I’ve dug-in on the side of a hundred mountains next to CJ shooting pics of flying sleds at 19 annual new snowmobile intros in as many high altitude, crazy places as you can imagine.

I’ve written hundreds of columns and stories and reluctantly – even as late as last week – submitted them all to CJ for his exacting edits and critiques. Honestly, if I’ve penned anything decent in this biz it’s been by the grace of God while under the watchful eye of the master of sno-mo-journalism himself.

It seems to me, in light of this tragic loss, through the tears and heartache, nothing is as meaningful as the memory of having had CJ around us, commenting, criticizing, exposing, photographing and discerning truth, as it relates to powersports journalism.

CJ was the definitive snowmobile journalist. He didn’t take pictures; he took history. When I’d had enough of clicking the shutter – often peeling off 500 or more photos in a single day – many times he wanted to stay with the new sleds and photograph some interesting new technology; something he had seen and knew would endure.

Honestly, when I couldn’t muster the energy to keep at it, CJ, always intent on gleaning something innovative, would be in the back of a race trailer or a semi clicking off tech photos of a new skid, a new engine, a new front-end. There was never and likely won’t be again, another journalist with this kind of intensity.

Auto racing still has Chris Economaki. Automotive journalism still has Brock Yates and David E. Davis Jr.

Up until last Sunday, snowmobiling had CJ Ramstad.

Editorial By: CJ Ramstad

On a ride recently I saw a set of ATV tracks heading off the grade and into some woods. The rider ran into a low spot almost immediately after leaving the grade and his tires made two very deep ruts that zig-zagged about 100 feet before finding dry ground.

The worst part was the rutted section was near a county road where passing traffic could easily see the disturbed, black, muddy earth where the rider had passed.

This is a situation where a near-perfect, all-weather, long-distance rail trail is threatened because a rider left the trail and made a mess.

I know the local riders in the area and I’m told the club went out as soon as they could to mitigate the damage.

The point is these unfortunate events and many others like them have the potential to create opposition to a perfectly sustainable trail by providing a big, ugly and visible example of the negative side of riding ATVs.

One thoughtless loser, leaving the marked trail and making a mess, caused a lot of work for others and generated a threat for responsible riders who have every right to hope they can use this trail for many years to come. Don’t be a loser.

Special Editorial by Kent Lester

The loss of CJ Ramstad and his son, JJ, last Sunday, struck a cruel blow to the hearts of their family and friends. Both loom large in our memory banks and CJ’s life will forever be engraved on the powersports industry.

The e-mails of sympathy and support for the family continue to pour in and it’s wonderful that, in passing, CJ is receiving the praise he so richly deserves.

He proved to be a great friend to so many of his readers and, especially, to those who got to meet him face to face – maybe riding his beloved scooter around Hay Days (wearing the worst looking Hawaiian shirts I’d personally ever seen) or at a vintage snowmobile racing event giving tips and historical information on long forgotten brands.

He showed genuine interest; often taking the time to personally research requested details that no one else could have ever provided.

This is a big part of the loss. CJ had a grasp of the powersports industry like no one else. He watched and documented the ATV business and, especially, the snowmobile business, from its genesis.

He was there when the racing started, taking pictures of the heroes, interviewing them (without them realizing it) and writing stories that brought the sport alive to his readers.

He told stories about people who first invented, innovated, adventured and raced. He gave the inside details on the earliest development of products we purchased to bring excitement to our lives. He wrote about the greatest places in the world to explore in the winter.

He rarely took notes. He had such a depth of knowledge of mechanical things and a foundation of information, he could listen to a presentation once, go back to the office and write an epic, detailed account from memory.

CJ’s photo collection provides an unbelievable history of our sport. It goes back to the early sixties, complete with brochures, slides, prints and technical data on every snowmobile ever created, all thoroughly documented and organized for quick retrieval. It is a treasure and one we need to preserve for all time.

The man was a fountain of creativity. As an editor, I couldn’t wait to hear the slant CJ had dreamt up on a year’s worth of publishing.

He provided lists of story ideas, all unique. He always wanted to tweak things, make them better – probably developed from his years of fiddling with CVT clutching and 2-stroke engines.

I never wrote a story or put together a magazine layout without dreading the Monday morning call from CJ after the magazine had been published.

He (always) saw the things I’d missed and he made sure the errors were indelibly etched on my mind. Sometimes he’d just send the whole magazine, loaded cover to cover with sticky notes, disagreeing.

It drove us all to do a better job, to strive to be as close to perfect as possible, to write with enthusiasm and always: “find a unique twist and write about it”.

My last and most profound memories of CJ were at this year’s Snow Shoot event in March at Grand Lake, Colorado. We would spend the whole day taking snowmobile photos and then, at about 5:00pm, break for the day. We’d unwind on the second floor balcony, breathing the fresh mountain air, telling stories and trading lies just like all snowmobilers do. It was an opportunity to see CJ in a different way.

He told us how proud he was of his kids: JJ a developing musician, Marly a talented, blossoming writer, and his feelings for Karla, his wife and soulmate, the love of his life. This was not easy for CJ. He was always private about his feelings, something bred into him from his Scandinavian roots.

Four of us sat there, never knowing what May 6 would bring. Godspeed, my friend.