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The beautiful sunny afternoon was too much to resist, so indeed I went out snowshoeing again. Trying to redeem myself from getting lost this morning, I followed a different route this time, in the footsteps of another snowshoer, and the … Continue reading
I headed out first thing this morning to go skiing. After yesterday’s icy conditions, the new fallen snow was a welcome addition. However, my first clue that all was not going to go well was stepping off the deck into about 6″ of new snow – much more than I thought. Light and fluffy, I should be able to ski through it I figured. Wrong! Now only did the fresh powder swallow up my skis, but my boots also disappeared as I tried to ski. Skate skiing was a joke, having to lift my skis up and over the snow after each glide. So I decided, why fight it?
Deep snow just cries out for snowshoes. So I traded my skis for snowshoes and off I went through the woods. All started off just fine, as I followed the mountain bike trails which were barely traveled, and still pristine in the new snow. Tree branches were laden with snow, and as I dipped under those in my path I tried to prevent dislodging that beautiful white blanket.
It was quiet and peaceful in the woods, with just the thumping of my sinking footsteps to break the silence. This was much better than trying to tame the snow on the ski trails.
Navigating in the woods has never been my strong point. So when I ended up at a bridge on the far side of the trail system, instead of where I’d intended to go, I was disappointed but not too surprised. Altering my route, I headed up Lester River. I’d seen this stretch of river many times, from the overlook on the ski trail. It was different to travel the riverbed way down below with steep banks stretching high above me. At one point I could hear the rushing of the river’s water well below the ice and snow – creepy and fascinating at the same time.
Tiring of the river, I returned to the woods following a deer trail. I figured I couldn’t go too far wrong with ski trails and Amity Creek ahead of me – either one could lead me home. I found the woods surprisingly easy to traverse, and soon discovered that if I paralleled the deer tracks, I could stay on top of the snow – an advantage to being small and light! Sure enough, I crossed the ski trails twice, as expected, and continued on to follow a little used snowmobile trail. On and on I went, with my confidence waning as rapidly as the distance growing behind me. Perhaps I wasn’t going the direction I thought I was? Just a little farther – maybe I can figure out my position around the next corner. Nope. Humiliated, and more than a little frustrated, I finally turned around and retraced my steps. I eventually found my way back to Lester River. By this time, the sun was trying to come out, and I actually used it to determine which way I should go. And it worked! What a novelty. Trudging back down the river, I was relieved to see where I had diverted into the woods earlier – I was now on home territory. I could breathe a bit easier, and began to enjoy my surroundings again.
The clouds quickly dispersed leaving a beautiful blue sky and even better scenery. It was quickly turning into a sunny day. And my mood escalated at the same pace.
By the time I returned home, although the temperatures were still in the low 20s, it was warm enough to sit out on our deck in the sunshine. Sitting in my favorite Adirondack chair, all seemed right with the world. Perhaps I will go back out again this afternoon in search of the trail I intended to take…
It’s an annual event. Hosted by the Duluth XC Ski Club, the idea is to ski all the trails in the city – in one day. We loved the idea, but Old Man Winter hasn’t cooperated to keep the snow long enough in recent years. This year that was hardly a problem. In what seems to be a recurring theme for us, we skied the Tour pelted by heavy snowfall, wintry mix and rapidly accumulating wet snow. And loved it.
The tour is a do-it-yourself affair and participants can ski any trails in any order. But we chose to follow the suggested route, starting in the west at the Spirit Mountain / Magney-Snively trails and working our way east.
It won’t surprise anyone to learn that Rich and I were the first to arrive and blazed the trails for those to follow. There was already a heavy accumulation of new snow and more continued to fall, pelting our faces and 
obscuring our vision. No matter, the accompanying fog veiled the beautiful views of the harbor that normally grace these trails. We had a quiet and mostly solitary ski around 
the connecting trail systems. I was quickly reminded how narrow and hilly the Magney trails are, although I had no fear of the steep downhills this time as our speed was checked by the sticky new snow.
Returning to the Nordic Center, more skiers were gathering and heading out on the trails. It was a festive atmosphere. Inside, we helped ourselves to hot chocolate which tasted divine. 16k behind us, and we were off to a great start.
Our next stop was the Piedmont XC trails. This one was completely new to us, and turned out to be a charming spot with a fascinating history. The 5.5k of classic trails wend though aspen and birch. But what made it unique were the signs. About 45 hand crafted wooden signs provide humor, puns and inspiration to skiers all along the route. It was in the parking lot following our enjoyable sojourn out on the trail, that by pure luck we met Jerry and Glen. The youthful 88-year-olds originally carved the trails out of the woods in 1960 and maintained them until the city took them over in 1980. And it is they who take great pride in posting the signs. We thoroughly enjoyed their stories and marveled as they headed off for their daily ski.
I next skied at Snowflake Nordic Ski Center, while Rich took a break at home (he was, after all, only a week out of the hospital…). I chose the 5k loop, which I navigated twice enjoying its gentle rolling terrain. Visibility had improved, and the skate deck was snowy but firm – probably the best skiing of the day.
We skied our final kilometers on the Lester/Amity 
trails, in our own back yard. By then the snow coming down had an icy edge, and what was on the ground turned soft and heavy. It was harder going than before – or was it just that I was tired by the middle of the afternoon? I managed a spectacular fall trying to ski a steep hill that I normally avoid. What was I thinking?
There were two more trails on the agenda, but the pull of a warm house and hot shower were too strong to overcome. For me, the fact that they were short and classic-only also may have contributed to my malaise. Having topped 40k, we figured we’d done enough. We could attend the evening ski club dinner without shame. We’ll just leave those two for next year.
There’s no denying it. After the Birkie the pressure is off. No more push to get in more and more kilometers. No more anxiety over doing a weekly long ski. Now is the time to go out and ski for the mere pleasure of it. That sounds bad – like it’s a grueling regimen and something we “have to do” when training for the Birkie. Not so, really. I enjoy the demands of that process too. But there is a difference.
This morning dawned clear, sunny and cold. I was very surprised to see the temperature had fallen below zero. But at this time of year the rising sun quickly warms the air and by mid morning it was already in the mid-20s.
A friend came over and the two of us walked over to the Lester/Amity ski trails. We donned our classic skis and headed down the tracks. This was not a speed session, it was all about sharing a love for the outdoors, the sport, a workout and friendship. We talked as we skied, covering myriad topics as we poled and kicked. Hesitating at intersections became a good excuse stop and talk some more. We ran into a good friend and fellow skier, and of course spent time talking to him. It was the epitome of a relaxed outing yet we still covered many kilometers at a decent pace.
The day had all the nuances of a spring day, with warm sunshine, brilliant snow, deep blue sky and warm temps. The snow and trail conditions were far too good for spring skiing, but we had all the benefits of what felt like balmy weather. Kids from the local grade school were out with teachers and parents practicing their skiing skills. They couldn’t have picked a better day. Adults populated the trail, all happy to exchange greetings and exclaim over the beautiful day. I’d never seen so many people out mid-day. It was the kind of day where I wanted to stay out and keep skiing forever. In fact, I’ll admit to returning to ski again later with my skate skis.
At this stage in the winter, every day of skiing could be our last. One good melt can turn the trails into either an icy or a muddy mess. It made this ski even sweeter.
Yes, there are benefits to having the races behind us. Social skiing is definitely one of them.
After a winter spent diligently plying the ski trails, it was the perfect day to change our tune and head out on snowshoes. With the Birkie behind us, all sense of urgency for training had dissipated. The brilliant sunshine and the deep fresh new snow just begged for an afternoon of discovery. My son, Erik, and I answered that siren’s call.
Living on the far edge of Duluth, the vast beauty of the North Shore beckoned, and we sought out the nearby Sucker River for our trek. Starting from Old North Shore Road, we were a bit off-put by a large group of snowshoers that preceded us down the trail to the river, and even less thrilled by the snowmobile trampled path that led upstream where we’d intended to go. So it was an easy decision to head the opposite direction, and we were well rewarded for our choice.
That section of the river was unspoiled by snowmobile tracks and had only vague signs of earlier snowshoe imprints before the last deep snowfall. The snow was blindingly white as it reflected the bright sunlight, and we sank deeply into the thick fresh powder as we made our way downstream. We saw only one set of skiers and a couple of hikers along the way. The rest was virgin territory for us. It was exactly what we’d come for.
The snow was soft and moist in the near-freezing air, perfect for a snowman. Erik couldn’t resist the opportunity to create a friend along the way. The warmth of the sun quickly dissipated in the shady areas, sending us a chill, but rewarmed us immediately upon returning to its toasty rays.
Reaching the shore of Lake Superior, we were treated to a beauty of a different nature. The ice coating the lake near shore was thin and fragile, stacking itself into piles of delicate tiles that floated on the softly undulating water. It made a tinkling sound as it bobbed up and down, and broke into glassy shards when it encountered a nearby rock. It was mesmerizing to watch and listen to its gentle sounds.
We traveled only 3.5 kilometers, down the river and back. But it was a rich and satisfying hike that allowed us to unwind and enjoy nature’s beauty without constraint. It’s what a sunny winter afternoon should be. It was sheer delight.
How could anyone find skiing or snowshoeing across the frozen ice of Lake Superior at night to be enticing? Apparently, a lot of people do!
Imagine yourself at the start line. You are surrounded by throngs of people on skis and snowshoes, some in silly costumes. You see people of all ages, many of them families with youngsters. Clearly this is not a highly competitive ski race, although those at the front might think otherwise. The sun has set, darkness is descending as well as the temperature, and there is a palpable energy in the crowd. Following the national anthem, and an energetic “Go!” you set off.
Where are you? It’s Book Across the Bay, an annual cross-country ski and snowshoe race on a 10k trail groomed across Chequamegon Bay of Lake Superior. What started as just a crazy idea in 1996 with 350 participants has grown into an annual event that drew nearly 4,000 people this year. The hallmark of this race is that it is lit by about 1,000 ice luminaries, with bonfires every kilometer.
We were part of the excitement last Saturday night for our third year in a row. We started off by skiing to the starting line, as the sun was setting. Preparations were in full swing, with luminaries being lit, wood for the bonfires in piles, and pine trees marking the 1k intervals. Hearty volunteers were cheerfully setting up tents and doing some last minute snow shoveling out on the ice.
We arrived at the starting point in Ashland just 10 minutes before the start of the race – perfect timing, as the temperature was dipping into the single digits under a clear sky. Dusk quickly transformed into darkness as we set off with all the other skiers. Once the crowds thinned out, silence reigned with only the swish of our skis or the flop of snowshoes to alert us of other people nearby. Skiing under brilliant stars with the string of candlelight stretching across the bay was intoxicating. The snow cover was excellent and the groomers had done a marvelous job of preparing the trail. Still, in the dim light one had to take the surface on faith and navigate carefully over the few inevitable rough icy spots along the way.
We could see each kilometer mark off in the distance, lit by a blazing bonfire. Some sponsors created a theme, including trees with Christmas lights. My favorite is always the one by the huge offshore rock at 8k, lit with flaming tiki lamps alongside the cliffs at the shoreline. This year there was an added feature – a fire-breathing dragon carved out of snow, belching real fireballs!
The finale in Washburn includes fireworks, and this year they began before we reached the finish line. What a festive atmosphere, to ski the final kilometer punctuated by brilliant bursts of light and color high in the sky! From there it was a quick jaunt up the landing to shed our skis and warm ourselves by the enormous bonfire on shore. A huge warm tent awaited us with bowls of hot chili and a band providing music for the after-party.
Who could resist such ambiance? Not us – we can’t wait to do it again next year.
Many thanks to my husband, Rich (aka the NorthStar Nerd), for the photos.
As the Mora Vasaloppet cross-country ski race approached, and snow did not, we carefully monitored the race news. The lack of snow forced race officials to move the course to Knife Lake, which meant shortening the races and looping around the lake’s perimeter on a trail created on top of the ice, rather than skiing through the woods. Fortunately, there was just enough snow to cover the last 13k from the lake to Mora, allowing the race to finish on Main Street. And compared to last year, when it had to be cancelled completely due to lack of snow, we were grateful that the race was on!
In stark contrast, the weather report for race day included a Winter Storm Warning which predicted 8-12″ of snow and increasing winds throughout the day. Would it really materialize? Or would it fizzle, as so many snow forecasts seem to do these days? Only time would tell.
photo courtesy of SkinnySki.com
We were relived to find that the snowfall had not yet started when we made our way to Mora in the early morning hours before the race. But the threat was still there. Rich was the first to make his way to the starting line, as his classic race started an hour before the skate race that Erik and I had entered. As his race was only 26k and included just one loop around the lake, Rich was within 5k of the finish line before the snow started.
Erik and I did not fair as well. One of Mora’s signature features is the line of huge bonfires near the start, to keep skiers warm while waiting for the race to begin. Standing there next to the lake, we could feel the fury of the wind as it whipped across the lake. Indeed, the announcer confirmed our suspicions informing racers that the first 7k around the lake would be directly into the wind. Oh boy…
photo courtesy of SkinnySki.com
By the time we started, so had the snow. Big fat flakes came down that looked pretty in the distance, but in reality whipped into our faces like pin pricks and stung our eyes. Skiing into the wind was like pushing against an immovable force. That was compounded by the powdery, sugary snow we plowed through on the trail they had created. The depth and consistency changed frequently, with ice showing through at times, making forward progress inconsistent. Add to that being blinded by the snow, and it was like skiing into the unknown!
Relief came when we turned toward the opposite shore and rode the wind back to the beginning of the circle. Minutes lost earlier were made up sailing in front of the blast, and we had some relief from the snow in our eyes. It was even enjoyable. But our euphoria didn’t last. We’d signed up for the longest race, which although shortened to 40k meant two laps around the lake. Soon we were battling the gale once again, convinced it was stronger and snowier than the first time around. A skier next to me asked “When will this hill ever end?” Despite the flat terrain of the lake, I knew just what he meant! The lake was obliterated by the snow, and the tracks swept by the wind. With the skiers spreading out, I found myself on my own hoping I was still following the right course.
Eventually we made it off the lake for the final 13k to Mora. That final section was on the local ski trails, and we had to retrain our legs to go up and down real hills. The woods were a welcome wind break, although the snow continued to find us, adhering to our bodies, hair and eyelashes.
The end of the Mora Vasaloppet is always a thrill, and despite the conditions, this year did not disappoint. One final hill takes skiers up to an old schoolhouse, and then it’s a short ski down Main Street to the finish line. There women in traditional 
Swedish costumes hand out medals, and locals dish up their famous blueberry soup. There’s nothing like it – hot and sweet! I looked like an icicle by that point, but no matter – I finished.
Thank you to SkinnySki.com for the above two photos.
With multiple recent snowfalls of 3″ or more, skiing – and grooming – the local trails has been a challenge. The groomers just finished covering all 65 kilometers on five 
ski trails in Duluth on Wednesday when they were buried again the next day with fresh snow. The deep soft snow makes skiing slow and tiring but incredibly beautiful. And after one and a half winters of meager snowfall, we cross-country skiers are thrilled with this turnabout.
I headed over to the ski trails early this morning. I was eager for a morning ski, the quietest part of the day with few other skiers making the rounds. Having just been groomed two days ago, I figured the likelihood of another pass by the groomers was low, and I’d just deal with the deep snow. And I was right. Mostly. As I completed my first loop around the system, I saw the Pisten-Bully heading my way, coming up from the very bottom of the trail. I waited for the massive machine to pass then skied the opposite way to give him a head start, hoping he’d stay ahead of me clearing the trails for my second lap.
With all the loops, side trails and connectors, grooming the system has to be something like a mathematical equation, figuring out the most efficient route to hit each section once and only once – or twice in the areas where it is double-tracked for classic. My math background liked thinking about that optimization problem.
I was pleased and impressed that the trails were being groomed again so soon, and decided to investigate Duluth’s trail grooming. Who is behind this task, and how do they get it all done? I learned that it was no accident that we were seeing increased activity on trail maintenance. The City of Duluth has a team of people for grooming, and for the first time in years they now employ three people for the task. In addition, they have added two new pieces of equipment – a snowmobile and a Ginzu Groomer owned by the Duluth XC Ski Club (DXC). The result is that they can send out two separate teams of groomers to tend two locations at once. The new equipment also enables them to maintain ski trails when there is no new snowfall by regrooming the existing base of snow.
The future looks even brighter, thanks to the Park Fund that was approved by Duluth’s voters in 2011. The city plans to purchase another Piston-Bully and another track-setter in two years. Those are our tax dollars at work – I heartily approve.
Let’s hear it for our groomers! And let’s hope the snowfall continues to keep them busy.
It’s February, and that means race month on our calendar. Each weekend we have a race or ski event scheduled, all leading up to the biggie… the American Birkebeiner. This year our son, Erik, is also joining us. After a 4 year hiatus following his high school Nordic ski team days while attending a college in non-snow territory, he has eagerly returned to the ski trails.
Today we successfully kicked off the race season. The City of Lakes Loppet in Minneapolis was the venue, and the recent cold snap and fresh snowfall made it possible at the last minute to run the races on the full course – hallelujah! The day dawned sunny and cold, just barely above zero, with moderate winds – all in all, a great day for a race.
Rich is a die-hard classic skier, and for this race Erik chose to go head-to-head with Rich in the 25k Classic race. Their race started earlier than mine, so they were off and skiing before I even got to the race venue for my skate race. Which would it be – age and experience, or youth and brawn?
I’m still pretty new to racing. I took up skate skiing about 5 years ago, and I’ve chosen that ski style for racing. I’m not as hard core as the guys, but my own sense of competitiveness comes out even I’m just racing against myself.
Heading out to the start line, it felt great to be out in the crisp air and the bright sunshine lent a sense of warmth. Suddenly, I was surrounded by Erik’s girlfriend Katie and her mom – they had stayed on after the classic race to see me off! What a thrill, to have my own support team – my spirits were boosted immediately.
Despite the lack of snow this winter, the race organizers did a phenomenal job of preparing a great racecourse. The trails were well covered and I would never have predicted we would have such good conditions – the snow was firm and not at all crusty. It was a slow snow due to the cold temperatures, but I was willing to trade some glide for a nice racecourse.
The race starts out on a golf course, and in the open areas we could see the trail looping head of us, lined with skiers trekking up and zooming down the hills. It wasn’t always comforting looking ahead to see the hills in store. Similar steep grades awaited us in the woods of the nature area, but the beauty of the trees helped distract us from the extra effort required. Once we reached the lakes – for which the City of Lakes in known – it was all flat. Soon we were whizzing around the perimeters near the shore making great time.
This year the finish line moved to a new location, and brought a whole new dimension to the race. We had always skied down a boulevard to the finish line, but this time it was moved to a city street – we skied one whole kilometer down the street then turned onto Hennepin Avenue in the midst a popular section of town. Just before the turn, my fan club reappeared! Katie, her mom and now Erik were there cheering me on with great enthusiasm and volume, carrying me through to the finish. They had stuck around in the cold just waiting for me to finally make my appearance. What a heartwarming ending!
And the results of the races? Youth triumphed as Erik rapidly outpaced Rich in the classic race. And I beat myself, bettering my previous time by 8 minutes.
We’re all psyched for the next race!
I’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.
Superior Footprints 