This story was originally published by Bridge Michigan, a nonprofit and nonpartisan news organization. To get regular coverage from Bridge Michigan, sign up for a free Bridge Michigan newsletter here.
In about a week as part of the International 500 Snowmobile Endurance Race, sleds will zoom around a mile-long ice oval in Sault Ste. Marie, getting up to speeds over 100 mph, attempting to do 500 laps.
More than a half-century after its founding, the I-500 is the heart and soul of Sault Ste. Marie winters and everyone in the area seems to have a tie to it.
So why is the race led in large part by “a troll” from under the Mackinac Bridge?
Ric Federau, the race’s chairperson, is not from the Soo. He’s not even from the Upper Peninsula. He’s from Okemos, near Lansing, more than three hours south of the Mackinac Bridge.
“It takes a long time for people from the Upper Peninsula to trust somebody from below the bridge,” said I-500 board member Scott Drzewiecki. He knows from experience, being from Flushing, south of the bridge, himself.
“Ric has gained their trust,” Drzewiecki said.
The event was dreamt up in 1968 by local businessmen who looked at an Indy 500 pace car on display in their city and thought about a popular local vehicle. “Could a snowmobile run 500 miles?” they asked.
Federau, a long-time spectator, got involved as a sponsor in the late-1990s. He owned a company that made reflective safety products and he volunteered to make signs to help guide racers around the curves of the track at night.
At one point, he started attending board meetings — not in any official capacity, just because he was curious. While watching the proceedings, something started bothering him.
Ric Federau, a self-proclaimed ‘troll’ who hails from below the Mackinac Bridge, is chair of the iconic Upper Peninsula snowmobile race, the International 500. (Courtesy International 500) As he tells it, he had been sitting off to the side, but he stood up.
“I’ve been coming to these now, I think, three or four times,” he recalled saying. “I'm going to tell you this with no disrespect intended. You people don't know what you have. You have the only mile oval ice track in North America. Are you kidding me? You need to promote this.”
It must have made an impression, because Federau was asked to come on as a board member. He initially declined.
“I don't think it's fair to the historical aspect of this, where all your families made this thing happen years ago, and you're going to have a ‘troll’ from below the bridge come up here, be on a board of directors with you guys,” he recalled responding.
But he kept thinking about it. He believed he could bring something to the table. And, eventually, he realized that, as he stepped further away from work, he would need to fill his free time somehow.
So, in the early 2000s, the troll from Okemos became a board member of the I-500. In 2013, he was elected chair, and he’s now the longest-serving chairperson the race has ever seen.
As to why those with ties to Sault Ste. Marie let a troll like Federau play such a central role, board member Wes Jourden said, “He’s been willing to step up. And he’s a pretty good negotiator.”
The I-500 is not just run by Federau. Bill Cryderman is the race director and is integral to the operation. There are also nine board members and hundreds of volunteers.
Still, Federau’s role is key.
According to Jourden, Federau is like the captain of the ship.
“In the Navy, the captain gives the orders, but he doesn’t actually steer the ship,” he said.
And in the case of the I-500, it’s a big ship.
“I mean, it takes about 400 volunteers, probably somewhere in the range of 50,000 volunteer hours worked,” Jourden said. “His job is to keep us all together.”
International 500 Snowmobile Race Chairperson Ric Federau, right, and a volunteer. (Courtesy International 500) Federau has grown the visibility of the race. He’s spent the last few summers promoting the I-500 at racecar events, hoping to bridge the gap between stock car racing and snowmobile racing. He’s formed ties with NASCAR and has brought in new sponsors.
Drzewiecki, who describes Federau as a “ball of energy” who “lives and breathes” the race, said Federau “thinks like a business person and everything, to Ric, is an opportunity.”
Federau has always had a project.
As a teen in 1967, he played drums and sang for a five-piece soul and rock band called Balloon Farm that toured Michigan with a red trailer shaped like a barn.
In the 1980s, he turned away from music long enough to become a professional stoneskipper. Yes, you can get paid to throw rocks onto water and see how many times they hop. There are competitions around the world, including the International Stone Skipping Tournament on Mackinac Island that Federau competed in.
“Anyone can skip stones, but, to be a pro at it, you need a sponsor,” the Lansing State Journal wrote in a tongue-in-cheek story about Federau in 1982. “Ric has a staff of five persons (producer, trainer, photographer, manager and something called a rockman) … He and his staff all wear ‘Skip with Ric’ uniforms.”
Since the early 2000s, Federau has poured his heart and soul into the I-500 Snowmobile Race.
“We are the world's largest, biggest, actually fastest, longest snowmobile endurance race in the world, no doubt about it,” Federau said. “The only difference between what we do and what NASCAR does: They do 200 miles an hour, we do 120. They have roll cages, roll bars, HANS (head and neck support) devices, protection. Our guys have a Kevlar vest, and that's it,” Federau said.
The big race happens Feb. 7, but the I-500 hosts a week’s worth of events that kick off on Sunday. Professional sled racers will come from across the US and Canada and spectators are expected to show up in the thousands.
While there’s still lots to do to direct the ship, Federau was able to take a little time to reflect.
“For them in that community to allow me, somebody from below the bridge, to come in and represent the most prestigious snowmobile event in the world, are you kidding me?” Federau said. “I am one lucky son of a bitch.”
