Tag Archives: Outdoors

The Right Conditions

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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

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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

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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 Black and White World

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We woke up to a black and white world this morning.  Snow was falling at a brisk pace and about two inches had accumulated already.  Our surroundings were masked by the deep white powder which transformed all color to a palate of only two hues.  It must be the brilliance of the pristine white snow that renders all other colors mute.

IMG_9329Normally in winter, I prefer to work with the snow rather than against it when going out for my workout.  However, I knew that enough snow would not accumulate in time to send the groomers out on the ski trails.  So I donned my Yaktrax and headed out for an early morning run in the falling snow.  Traction proved to be tricky, as I found unexpected icy patches beneath the snow, and in the deeper untraveled sections the snow clumped and unclumped under my feet.  But this run wasn’t about speed or quality, it was for the experience.  The snow muted all sound and obliterated any long distance view.  I was hemmed in by snow covered trees, in black and white.

Heading down to Brighton Beach I experienced the full force of lake effect.  The NE wind came right off the lake, transforming the snowflakes into crisp pellets that felt like pins and needles on my face.  I was toasty warm inside and frigid on my exposed skin in the bracing wind.  The lake was slightly roiled up and looked decidedly chilly.

I may be biased, but I found some of the prettiest views when I returned to our own neighborhood around Amity Creek.  Who can argue with living in such beautiful surroundings?

    Particularly our own flavor of black and white!IMG_9347 trimmed

A Winter Oasis

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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.

Winters of Yesteryear

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The high school Nordic ski team just skied by…  on roller-skis.  It’s December and it looks more like September.  The plants outside our front door are greening up again.  I went Christmas shopping yesterday, and passed fellow shoppers in the parking lot who were not wearing jackets.  It just didn’t feel right being so warm while toting Christmas gifts.

When I was growing up in Duluth we always had snow.  Lots of it.  In grade school, our favorite Friday celebration was to walk home from school on top of the huge snowbanks that lined the streets.  They were high, well over our heads.  We had a little red ball that we put on the antenna of our car so others could see it over the snowbank, coming around corners.  (Okay, so cars don’t have antennas any more either.)  We made igloos out of the snow piles from shoveling the driveway.  Big ones that we could sit inside.  Streets were so narrow due to the plowed snow that parking became a problem, or more accurately, navigating around parked cars was a challenge.  And we had legitimate Snow Days, home from school to wait out a blizzard.  At least such is my memory of winter.

IMG_9300The snow we had on Thanksgiving was just a teaser.  I keep telling myself that we didn’t always have snow for Thanksgiving.  And that holiday was early this year.  It’s not time to panic just yet.  Never mind that last year’s dismal lack of snow lurks in recent memory.  We still might have a good snow winter.  Please?

Early season skiing

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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.

Pre-Thanksgiving Hike

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One of the best parts of living on the edge of Duluth is the proximity to the North Shore.  Today we decided to go up to Tettegouche State Park and go hiking.  In just about an hour, we were there and heading up the trail to High Falls.

The day’s weather held promise.  It wasn’t too cold and started with a clear sunrise.  But fog and clouds drifted in and lingered, masking the blue sky that we knew was up there.  No matter, it was still bright if not sunny.  The barren deciduous trees provided a backdrop of gray and the blanket of leaves on the trail had weathered to a subdued brown.  In contrast, the pine trees brought a welcome splash of green color.

We had the trails to ourselves – it wasn’t exactly prime season.  We rather prefer it that way, just us and nature.  We could walk and absorb the sights and sounds around us uninterrupted.

The Baptism River was low, which was to be expected for the fall season coupled with the summer’s drought.  There was still enough water to provide action over the falls.  And the sound of rushing water drew us to the sights.

The bridge above High Falls provided some great entertainment.  Suspended from a single cable anchored at each end, there was plenty of sway in the middle.  We felt like kids bounding and bouncing across.  It only made me a little bit nervous.

We have a lot to be thankful for, living so close to such natural beauty.  Not everyone has the good fortune to venture into the woods on well-kept trails, to watch the water plummet over the rocks, and to benefit from living near the largest fresh water lake in the world.  Thank you, God, for planting us in such a special part of your world.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Turnabout

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Just yesterday I was complaining about the cold. This morning I am writing this post out on my front deck! The thermometer reads 42 degrees, but the sun is shining and I am well protected from the wind. We learned early on in the building process that the deck was perfectly positioned for morning coffee, lunch or just reading. We’d like to say we planned it that way, but we didn’t have that much foresight. The deck faces south, which also happens to be the only side of the house that we could not leave wooded in the building process. All that big equipment needed access to the site somewhere. But once we discovered the windfall in sunshine that resulted, we loved it. It’s all the better in the seasons when the leaves are down and the sun lingers longer on the deck. We have planted new trees on that side of the house, and added to them each year so far, but this time we are planning the result – they are strategically placed so as not to shade the deck, even when fully grown.  The addition of Adirondack chairs was a requirement for me.  Nothing denotes relaxation like an Adirondack chair.  And being Polywood, they can be out year-round.  Another necessity.

I can hear Amity Creek flowing, a bit of wind blowing, small animals scurrying in our woods and birds twittering. Can winter really be right around the corner?

Getting Acclimated

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For all my bravado about eagerly awaiting the start of the cross-country ski season, I have to admit that the season’s first cold temperatures are getting to me.  Stepping outside to go running the other morning when the temperature read 22 degrees was a chilly reminder of what is to come.  It didn’t help that the sky had that dreary winter gray look, and the winds whipped me in the face for the first half of my run.  There’s no getting around it – it felt cold.  I zipped my jacket up under my chin and forged ahead.  My fingers eased themselves out of their individual compartments to snuggle together in the palms of my gloves.  As always, once I got going my body generated enough heat to warm up and eventually I even enjoyed the “freshness” of the air on my face.  It’s getting rolling that’s tough.

Note to self: Hiking does not generate nearly as much warmth as other more intense forms of outdoor exercise.  I had the right idea, dressing in layers, just not enough of them.  It was my hands that suffered the most.  I’m convinced that I frostbit them more than once over the years, leaving them more susceptible to the cold.  Next hike, it’s heavy mittens for me.  It took a cup of hot tea, cradled in my hands to rewarm me both inside and out.  But I still enjoyed the hike.

I’m glad that I took advantage of the nice days last week to get in a long bike ride.  I was just 21 miles shy of 4,000 miles for the year and couldn’t bear the thought of missing that milestone.  I’m now safely 9 miles over.  Anything more is just gravy.  When I took up long distance cycling as a newbie back in March, I had no idea I’d cover so many miles.  Those that know me are probably not surprised, however.  And if the temperatures moderate and the sun peaks out, I’ll probably sneak in another ride or two.

Hopefully I’ll acclimate and get used to winter’s chill by the time it comes in earnest.  Even so, I know I will still have to psyche myself up to head out into the cold.  And I know I’ll return feeling glad that I did.