Skiing with two young bucks

IMG_9517 trimmedI’m not even sure why I tucked my little camera into the pocket of my ski jacket before heading out to the trails early this morning.  I already took pictures there yesterday, and it was a cloudy and dreary morning.  But I’m glad I did!

We are fortunate to live right across the street from some nice ski trails embedded in the woods. I was about 2/3 of the way around my first circuit when I spotted two deer standing on the trail a little ways in front of me.  That wasn’t so unusual, but I got my camera out anyway.  It was only then that I noticed their antlers.  And when they began to tangle with each other right in front of me, I knew I had something unique.  I enjoyed watching them sparring and playing in close proximity.

To be honest, the skiing wasn’t all that great this morning.  The snow was crusty and slick from yesterday’s warmup, and had lost the allure of soft new snow.  But it was worth being out there for the show.

Finding Real Winter

My usual routine on our ski trips is to get up early and ski before breakfast.  I love being outdoors early and “earning” the big feast always served at a B&B.  But with the winds howling, snow covering the roads and temperatures dipping below zero, it seemed prudent to modify that plan!  The acres of woods surrounding the B&B presented the optimal alternative – snowshoeing.  Susan and I bundled up in our warmest clothes, strapped on our snowshoes and trundled off through the deep soft snow.  The conditions were perfect.  Untouched fluffy snow blanketed our path and clung to the tree branches all around us.  No IMG_9494matter that we lost the trail after while and meandered in a crooked route around bushes and over logs.  We were protected from the wind and enjoyed soaking up our surroundings.  Only our noses got cold, and by the time we returned to the warmth of the B&B, we were good and ready for that hearty breakfast.

By the time afternoon rolled around, the wind had moderated and temperatures rose to a balmy 4 degrees above zero.  For our final ski of the weekend, we headed back toward Bayfield and stopped at Mt. Ashwabay Ski Area.  Because it was so cold, we chose to ski separately so we could each chose our own pace and not have to linger in the cold waiting for each other.  I eagerly chose my skate skis while Susan stuck to classic skiing for this outing, but I soon regretted my decision.  Once again, the grooming reports were on the optimistic side.  We were told that the trails were all groomed, but we neglected to ask “when?”  It soon became apparent that the answer was “before the last snowfall.”  While the classic tracks were nicely packed by earlier skiers, the skate deck was marginally used and full of fresh cold (read slow) snow.  As Susan glided along the smooth tracks, I forced my skies through the deep snow, chagrined that I was barely keeping ahead of her.

IMG_9506I can’t really hold the conditions against the ski area.  After all, we’d been praying for new snow, and boy did we get it!  And they were doing their best with limited resources.  Putting that aside, the trails were very pretty and the scenery improved even more when the sun peeked out mid-afternoon.  It was the first we’d seen of the sun all weekend, and it was a welcome addition.  As we were once again skiing around a downhill ski area, it was no surprise to encounter hills – steep ones this time.  I labored up those hills, and had to skate down them to keep my momentum going.  At one point, I reached the top of the chairlift and had no choice but to snowplow down a ski hill to reach the next section of trail – an interesting twist to the route.  Nearing the end of the day, my mind must have been as numb as my body was tired when I read the sign that said “Chalet 12k.”  I knew I didn’t have it in me to go that much farther, much less beat the impending dark.  So it was with great relief that upon closer inspection I realized it actually read “Chalet 1.2k” – whew!  Enough skiing for one weekend.

Nordic Walking – on Skis

I have to remind myself that skiing with a friend is not the same as training for the Birkie. The trails we ski are not the highly groomed, fast and populous areas where I put in mega kilometers and really push myself for technique and speed. And today was a prime example.

We chose the Porcupine Mountain Wilderness Area for today’s skiing. It’s perched on the edge of Lake Superior, and in the last few years they haven’t had good snow for cross-country skiing. Since the recent snowfall blanketed the Porcupines, we decided we should take the opportunity to try their trails.

It soon became clear that we were in a wilderness area, not a ski resort. The ski chalet reminded me of ski trips in my youth – rustic fireplaces and simple tables surrounded by families picnicking from coolers. Their definition of trail grooming was a bit loose. Yes, they were packed, but despite the designation as a classic ski trails, there were no classic tracks. We had a firm surface for skiing, but missed the solid tracks to keep our skis from slipping sideways.

Skiing through the woods, we saw side trails off to rustic cabins. We encountered one couple hiking through deep snow in the woods, searching in vain for their cabin, and hoping we could direct them. We’d passed it earlier on, and were happy to help. Further up the trail we saw a tent – sure enough, winter campers. We didn’t see many people out on the trails, but the footprints told us we were sharing the trail with hikers and shoeshoers.

We first headed out on the trail that parallels Lake Superior near the shore. It was quiet and pretty. The closer we got to the lake, the more moisture in the snow, which made it sticky. Add that to the other trail conditions, and this was going to be a slow ski.

The winds were forecast to increase all day long, and it was blustery near the lake. The thick snow on the trees was whipped through the air and it felt like skiing through bouts of blizzard. The best part of that trail was the short section where we could see the lake. It was already stirred up, and waves were crashing in on the rocks.

The more extensive trails wind around and behind the ski hill. We assumed that meant steep inclines, but were pleasantly surprised to find the trails were nicely undulating. They wove through the woods and the snow coverage was deeper there than near the lake. It was beautiful skiing.

The afternoon slipped by quickly, but the kilometers did not. Forward movement was earnestly earned by the effort required to overcome the stickiness of the snow. It felt more like walking at times. Nordic Walking with poles. But on skis. It was not Birkie training. But it was definitely an endurance workout. In beautiful surroundings.

Lake Superior Delivers

The weather gods were certainly shining on us. We awoke this morning to a classic lake effect snowfall that blanketed Duluth, Wisconsin and the UP of Michigan – just what we asked for! We traipsed through several inches of new snow as we loaded the car, and left in the midst of big flakes plummeting down at a rapid pace. Real winter at last, and great start to our XC trip.

While the fresh snow erased the barren brown ground and covered the icy remnants of old snow crust, it also meant snowy slippery roads for our travels from Duluth to Ironwood. It felt like relearning winter driving again, especially as the snow plows appeared to be waiting for the snow to stop falling before clearing the roads. Lanes were impossible to see, snow billowed all around us each time a car passed by, and I had a sneaky suspicion it was slippery under all that white stuff. But we forged on, safely thankfully.

We made our requisite stop at a charming coffee shop en route, where we planned our day’s skiing over coffee and fresh muffins. The proprietor was an enthusiastic foodie, which delighted Susan no end, and on her lead we detoured to the local coop and bakery for hearty breads and baked goods. They would make a good supplement to our evening meal in front of the fire at the B&B, we reasoned.

We chose the ABR trails in Ironwood for our day’s ski, figuring they were most likely to be freshly groomed and had plenty of kilometers for us to explore. Groomed they were, but not everywhere. Skate skiers seemed to take precedence, with the classic-only trails yet to be addressed. But we decided that was a benefit, not a hindrance. Some classic trails were skier-tracked, which worked well yet still retained a feeling of remoteness. Classic-only also have the advantage of being narrower, closely lined by trees – our favorite type of trail.

Further out, we found trails that were still untouched. We could see the faint outline of the tracks set before the new snowfall, but they were otherwise blanketed in pristine new snow. It was too good to pass up! We broke trail and skied through the silent woods for several hours on those trails. No matter that it was slow going – this wasn’t about speed, it was about experience, and it was perfect. Even with 3-4″ fresh powder, there was still enough glide to make it easy going and enjoyable.

As each new section of trail beckoned to us, we ventured farther and farther out on the trail system. By the time we neared the trailhead, sunset was long behind us and the light was growing dim. The full parking lot was dotted by only a few remaining cars, and we were tired. But it was a good tired.

Thank you, Lake Superior, for another wonderful day of skiing.

Lake Effect Snow

Come on, Lake Superior, do your stuff! Tonight I head out for my 21st annual cross-country ski trip with my friend Susan. And we’re counting on lake effect snow to resurrect the ski trails after the abysmal winter conditions of late.

Over the years, we have covered all the trails on the North Shore, taking pride in checking them off and highlighting our maps to see our progress. We have made repeat trips up the Gunflint Trail, enjoying the large trail systems there that usually have good snow coverage. We’ve skied the Birkie trails near Hayward, and ventured East, to try Maplelag and its many kilometers of skiing right outside the door.

Map of US lake effect areas around the Great Lakes – from Wikipedia

This year we chose a different destination, thinking that we had a sure bet for snow by going to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. After all, for the last 30 years Ironwood has had an average of 188″ of snow a year, with snowfall on 79 days of the winter.  And most of that is lake effect snow. The westerly winds blowing cold air over Lake Superior gather and retain moisture over the relative warmth of the lake. But once the saturated clouds hit land, they dump that moisture and voila – snow! Lots of it. Hence the area’s reputation as a snow-belt. When Minnesota and the North Shore are short on snow, the UP normally delivers.

This isn’t the first time we’ve been snow challenged on our trip. A few years back we brought along our hiking boots, and used them more than our skis. Another year, the temperatures rose so high on our first day skiing that the trails turned to sheer ice for the remainder of the weekend.  We switched to snowshoeing in the woods.  Once we encountered yellow, slushy ice crossing while crossing a lake, even in mid-winter – we were glad to reach the other shore safely. And everyone remembers last year, the winter that wasn’t.

No matter what the snow conditions, the temperatures or the accommodations, we always manage to have a good time. I’m sure this year will be no exception. But having ample snow and well groomed trails sure goes a long way toward that end. No pressure, Lake Superior.  We have faith in you.

The Right Conditions

It hasn’t been the best winter for snow.  But not the worst either.  We need only think back to last year to know that.  So far we have been fortunate to be able to find ski trails with reasonable snow and eek out our kilometers as we train for our February line-up of long distance races.  The City of Lakes Loppet, Mora Vassaloppet, Book Across the Bay and American Birkebeiner define the month – every weekend is committed.  It’s those 50+ kilometer races in particular that keep us going, adding to the length of our longest ski each week.  Just like marathon training, that “long ski” is needed to built up our endurance for the big race.

Despite the kilometers I’ve put in, the results have been less than stellar.  I just haven’t felt things click, and my times continue to linger over 5 min/kilometer.  While that’s not exactly a lightning speed goal, it’s my goal and I cling to the desire to finish the Birkie in under 4 hours again.  But it has seemed very elusive this year.

Until now.  Finally, a day of perfectly wonderful skiing!  Not only was the sun shining, the sky blue and the wind moderate, but the trails were in terrific condition!  Being out reasonably early on a weekday morning definitely has its advantages.  I skied on nearly virgin corduroy, enjoying the fresh grooming and good snow coverage.  And I realized the benefit of firm, wide and stable trails – they promote good skiing!  It makes a big difference having a reasonable base to smooth out the bumps, and plenty of width to skate ski.  I was so pumped it was an easy decision to make that my long ski for the week.

The multi-use trails were also in pristine condition.  Normally I shun those trails, with too many footprints and dog tracks trampling the snow to make them attractive.  But this day they lured me away from the ski trails.  I had no idea where I was going!  I skied and skied, wondering just where I would end up, yet sensing that they were vaguely familiar from cycling the bike trails last summer.  I admit that they were only mildly undulating and unchallenging, but infinitely enjoyable as I racked up the kilometers.

Forty kilometers later, I skied to my personal finish line.  And best of all, I finished in well under 5 min/kilometer.  Hallelujah!  What a boost to my confidence and morale.

Naturally, I can’t assume we will have perfect conditions for all those races.  But a few more days like this one will go a long way toward feeling like I just might have the right stuff to go the distance.  So come on, Mother Nature, bring on the snow!

Skiing – A Christmas Eve Tradition

First SkisI grew up in a family of downhill skiers. My parents spent their honeymoon skiing at the King’s Gateway in the UP. I learned to ski at the age of five, going up the hill between my dad’s legs as he rode the T-bar. Skiing was a family affair, rising early to drive to the ski hill, eating the lunch that Mom packed in the leather travel case, and skiing until the slopes closed. My best birthday present was the pair of Head skis my parents gave me – I felt like I’d reached the big league.

From an early age, I remember spending Christmas Eve skiing. All the excitement of Christmas seemed to crescendo, reaching its peak on that day. The anticipation of all the presents and the holiday made the day endless. We probably drove our parents crazy, snooping under the tree and getting under foot while they made the final preparations. So they instituted the tradition of going skiing. We’d ski all day and get home tired and happy, just in time for dinner and a hot bath.

In the early years, the whole family spent the day skiing. As we got older and my siblings got their driver’s licenses, they would drive us to the ski hill while Mom and Dad stayed home. I didn’t realize it then, but it must have been a welcome opportunity to prepare for Christmas undisturbed.

Brule trailsI’m still a skier, but I’ve long since traded downhill for cross-country skiing.  I love the quiet, the trails, the constant motion and the challenge of the uphills. So this Christmas Eve found me out in the woods instead of out on the slopes, but still skiing. It seemed so right. And just like in years past, it helped stem the tide of my anticipation. It’s not the presents under the tree that fuel my excitement these days, it’s the arrival of my IMG_9427 trimmedchildren and their children. The cooking and baking are nearly complete for the holiday meals, the house and tree are decorated, and the presents are all wrapped.  I’m ready to trade empty nesting for a house full of family, noise, and togetherness.  The new house will be overflowing, putting airbeds into use and slipping grandkids into small corners to sleep.  But that’s what memories are made of.  Bring it on – it’s Christmas Eve!

A Classic Day in the Woods

The ski trails had not been groomed.  I know, I went over to check.  Twice.  With all that new snow, it seemed there was enough for skiing, but without grooming it was too deep for skate skiing.  There were decent classic tracks, forged by a number of skiers out ahead of me.  So I was left with little choice.  If I was going to ski today, it had to be classic.

Ever since taking up skate skiing, it’s been my favorite for workouts.  I just don’t have the solid technique nor the desire to press hard when doing classic skiing.  So instead, I reserve it for recreational skiing with friends or going out in the woods to enjoy the scenery.  I just didn’t know that today was meant for that type of skiing.

As soon as I set off, IMG_9348I could feel the magic.  The snow was soft, with plenty of coverage, and the tracks were decent.  The silence of the woods descended on me as I glided through the snow.  I didn’t need a workout, I needed to enjoy the surroundings.  It was slow going in the new snow, but that meant more opportunity to enjoy the scenery.

It was mid-afternoon but since we are zeroing in on the shortest day of the year, the sun was low in the sky, sending long shadows across the trail.  The sky was a brilliant blue, providing a beautiful canopy over the snowy scene.  And the sunshine felt good on my back.  Lester River was gurgling under the snow and ice and provided a nice vista as I worked my way uphill.

As the afternoon progressed, the sun lit the treetops on fire.  Soon following, the sky itself began to glow and silhouetted the trees in the foreground.  I desperately wanted to capture it in a photo, but my camera battery had long since succumbed to the cold and complained when I tried to turn on my camera.  A mental picture would have to do.  Perhaps it was for the best – it was cooling down quickly, and my willingness to take off my mitts to handle the camera was quickly evaporating.

Maybe they will groom the trails tonight.  I hope so.  But now I’m glad I had a classic day in the woods.

A Winter Oasis

Driving down the entrance road, a beautiful sight greeted us. The dry brown late fall scene was suddenly transformed into a wintry wonderland. The trees were laden with fluffy snow clinging to the branches, and the ground was covered with a clean white blanket. The picturesque chalet was lit up from inside, aglow in the evening darkness and skiers silently slid by on the lit trails. Winter!

We were in the Twin Cities, and took the opportunity to get in some skiing at Elm Creek Park Reserve where they make snow for a portion of their cross-country ski trails. Since there was no snow even Up North, we were grateful for the investment and industriousness of the park staff dedicated to keeping their ski trails open. Never mind that it was artificial snow – it was snow and skiing. So far they had covered only 1.3k of trail, and were working hard to add the additional portions to bring it up to 2.5k, but we were happy to have that. Despite the recent warm temperatures, nightly grooming and frequent replenishment with the snow guns had rendered very decent skiing. It was heavenly to ski along, pressing rusty muscles back into service and get some real glide. Feeling the cold air on my face and spending the evening outside skiing was nirvana! To add to the ambiance, real snow was falling, making us believe that maybe real winter was not far off after all. It didn’t amount to much, but that wasn’t the point.

Rich calls it “gerbil” skiing. Doing any distance at all on a 1.3k loop means lots of rotations around the same terrain. But last night no one complained about the repetitions. And once the dinner hour arrived, the trail emptied out and we had little competition for space. Make no mistake, it’s not the same as skiing in the woods, away from civilization and on real snow. But it’s the best we have right now.

I know it’s a worn out refrain, bemoaning losing the ferocity of winters past. So we look forward instead, and as we return to Duluth we are putting our hopes in the Winter Storm Warning that is out for tonight. Will we wake up to winter that is more than a small urban oasis, and snow that blankets not only our front yard but the ski trails across the street? We sure hope so.

Early season skiing

Sometimes a little restraint is required. My husband, Rich, is a fanatical cross-country skier. He can't wait for the season to begin, and bolts out to the nearest trail at the first sign of snow. His spirits are impossible to dampen, and he relishes nothing more than being the first out on the trail. I have learned to interpret his early season enthusiasm with a dose of skepticism, however. His glowing reports of that first ski often come with skinned knees, new gouges in his rock skis, and harrowing tales of catching a rock going downhill.

My own forays out on the trails are attended by a greater dose of caution. Why is it that I think I won't remember how to ski? Why is it that my first venture of the season finds me flailing and struggling to find that elusive sense of balance? Never mind that the trails are ungroomed and that my skate skis are ill suited to the untamed powder in the woods. That first ski is never pretty.

Skiing ungroomed trails

This year's first outing was no exception. I let myself be talked into skiing the first snowfall on trails that reportedly had been rolled. In reality, hikers and dogs and tromped and stomped all over the trail, leaving it barely navigable on skis. Come to find out, we had mixed up trail names and were in the wrong place.

With another two inches of snow overnight, I decided I was willing to give skiing another shot. This time I headed to the right set of trails, and although the new snow obscured any previous grooming, it also erased the heavy wear from the previous day. Unfortunately, when I arrived so did two carloads of adults and kids with dogs who eagerly bounded out onto the trails ahead of me. Early season skiing certainly has its hazards. Without groomed tracks, trespassers on foot are oblivious to the errors of their ways. Forging on, I soon left the hikers behind and found I was enjoying myself. The woods were quiet and pretty in their new blanket of snow, and the trail was unchallenging but very skiable. I had no idea where I was going, having never been on the trail before, but it wasn't difficult to follow and I easily made my way around the figure eight loop for 2.8k of fun. So much so that I did it three more times. With each repetition, my rhythm improved, my technique began to return, and at times I even felt quite competent. I didn't exactly break any speed records, nor did I get the workout of my life, but I was out skiing.

Hopefully I now have the flailing behind me.