Birkie X5

Date: 2/23/08
Event: The 35th Annual American Birkebeiner
Location: Hayward, WI
Team Reporting: Mom, Dad, Jen, Connie, Dave, Jessica, Al, Tom, Cathy
Special Honors: 1st Korteloppet for Mom, 5th Birkie for me, 25th for Connie

Report: Like a guilty Christian who only goes to church on Christmas and Easter, so I have become a February skier. I train all season for one race, THE race, at least in this country. Of course I'm talking about the American Birkebeiner, the Greatest Show on Snow. I skied my first in 1999, but then school and , ironically, ski racing, prevented my return until 2005. Since then, I've skied them all.

To begin, the family arrived in Minneapolis, our arrival perfectly choreographed by the machinations of my father, so that we all got off our planes and into the rental car in about the span of 10 minutes. We had a little bit of trouble getting the skis and 4 of us into the Saturn Vue, but a little creative packing solved the problem. Then it was off to Connie and Daves sweet, sweet house in Hayward, where we got to meet our newest family member, Saddie Mae. We also got a sweet view of the lunar eclipse. We then watched the 35th aniversery bikie DVD for the first time. I had been feeling sick all week, and though I was feeling less feverish, I was quite congested, so sleeping that night was a bit of an issue. I just took psuedoephedrine and sort of flitted in and out of consciousness.

The next day brought interesting new challenges. My Aunt, being an upstanding member of the Hayward community, decided to volunteer my entire family for the Barnebirke, the local children's race, which meant we had to get up early (8 am), put on all the warm clothing we had, and drive into town. We then got assigned to various spots on the 1, 3 or 5k courses, and were tasked with the job of coralling the 1800 odd children who we going to ski. My mom and my sister, both elementary school teachers on winter break (ostensibly from children), were at the start line of the 1K race, helping the littlest kids get their skis on. My dad, aunt, uncle and I were on the one hill, where our job was to pick the kids up when they fell. Anyway, it was 10 degrees out, but we still had a good time wading through the sea of skiing children to save the fallen ones. The whole process took several hours, but it was kinda fun. And also probably good karma.

Returning home, I began waxing my skis, and then it was decided that my family job was going to be to wax all the skis. So, I worked on skis for a while. My mom got Fastwax HS-20 on her waxless skis, my dad and sister got a bunch of layers of stuff, culminating in HSF-10, and I put on HSF-10 in front of the kick zone, HSF-20 behind it, and Cera-F (yeah, I used Cera) over both. Connie and I were then trying to figure out kick wax. It was supposed to be 10 at the start, but warm up to 25 or more over the day. So, rather than cover VR-50 with VR-40, or whatever swix thought we should do, we put on like 9 layers (thick to stick, baby) of Rode multigrade purple, which we then covered with a secret fluoro-coating: Rex Hydroex. It was a gamble, but, given that I can't just double pole for 10k anymore, I really, really wanted kick. Incidently, after dinner that night we watched the 35th anniversary DVD. Again.

Friday we went to Telemark to get our bibs. For the first, and probably last time, I had a bib with only 3 numbers. Thats right, I was in wave 1/elite classic. I also picked up a sweet new racing jersey, with a birkebeiner warrior on it! Yeah, I was that guy, the one who wears the commemorative race clothing in the actual race, but my Dartmouth suit is 10 years old, and kinda worn out. Anyway, the family then toured the various ice sculptures and took goofy pictures, a sample of which I provide for your amusement.











That night we had a big pasta dinner, as many of connie's friends had showed up. And then we watched the 35th anniversary DVD. Again.

So, you're probably kinda bored by now hearing about my family vacation, so I'll cut to the chase. We arrived at the race start, after driving for an hour and then taking a bus. I looked, alas in vain, for Brayton, but there were thousands of people there, so, I couldn't find him. I tested the wax, and it was a little draggy, but I just decided to make it work, and ride my tails on the downhills. The tracks were flawless: hard, but not icy, and very numerous. I skied a little bit to get warm, pounded a double espresso goo, dropped my bag off, and got in the starting coral.

My wave, it quickly became apparent, consisted almost entirely of men aged 40+. The Elite peeps got to line up in front, and the remaining 100 or so of us got behind. The race started with little fanfare. I got in the middle of the pack, not intending to put in any heroic skiing in the first 10k. The pack was tight, but there were 5 tracks for the first 2k. At that point, I got in with a group of maybe 15, most of them old enough to be my dad. The leader of the women's classic race was with us, and we all sort of skied together, up and down (but mostly up) for the first 16k. They all had faster skis than I did, but my downhill technique was much better. The classic trail was flawless: 3 sets of perfect tracks, rolly, interesting terrain. I can't wait until next year when it goes all the way to OO. When we finally got to Firetower hill, our pack sorta started breaking up, and I sorta realized that I'd been skiing pretty agressively. You'd think I would maybe learn...

We got dumped into the Birke trail proper right in the middle of wave 2 for skaters, the people I would normally be skiing with. They were all going just a little faster than I was, which was somewhat annoying, and also we now only had two tracks, one on either side. The skaters did a good job not skiing on the tracks, so we coexisted peacefully. The course rolled on...I double pole kicked and strode more flats than I would have liked, and had to bust out a little heringbone, but I was skiing pretty well. Turrets hill didn't seem as big as usual, and we got to OO, 23k, in a little less than 90 minutes.

I was hungry going through OO, but just didn't feel like wasting the time to get a goo out of my back pocket. I refuse to staple goos to my bib just so I can rip them off and throw them in the tracks. Incidently, anyone whose goo packets end up in the tracks deserves to have their skis stoneground by a drunken rhesus monkey. Anyway, I skied the next 10k, with each passing k marker sign becoming even more tired and grumpy. I finally caved at 35k, took off my poles, and shot that sweet, caffeine laced, viscous syrup into my mouth. 1 k later, I felt better, and I was able to soldier through the last couple of hills. Bitch hill wasn't so bad, although the bitches were dressed as bees, which just wasn't really funny. Oh well.

The last 9k we out in the open...farm fields with nice views. I skied strong, not bonked, but not really all that fast. The last hill came and went, and I dueled with some dude my age for last couple of k to the lake. By the time we hit the water I had zero arms left, so I strode the whole lake. Not very fast, but I made it work. Once I got to main street, I went back to double poling, mostly, and so crossed the line of my 5th Birkebeiner. I worked my way to the clothing bags, and then tried to stake out a spot in the changing tent that didn't involve me getting a face full of old-man ass. I was successful...mostly.

Well clothed, I found the food tent and ate a chicken soup, a brat, and washed it down with a dew. I then took my Subaru cowbell and waited to cheer for Connie. She skied in about a hour after me (finishing her 25th!!), got her clothing and food, and then we got some beers and waited for the Korte skiers to show up. I called Liz, and she gave us results from the internet, and then the rest of family finally showed up, and we went home for drinks, sauna-ing, and steak. And the Birkebeiner 35th anniversary DVD. Again.