Rushing For Gold in a Blizzard

Nordic Dave (AKA Dave Knoop)

Stein Lager (AKA Dan Packman)

Fellow webskis teammate and friend Dave (aka Nordic Dave, from park city)
writes a weekly race report. this week I'm filling in for him as he is off
to Finland for an epic adventure of his own- Lapponia ski week- 3 races in
5 days, 50-60-80km.

Nordic Dave spent last weekend immersed in a Finnish language quick study
program, learning that s-a-u-n-a means... sauna - in Finnish and English.
His cohort from Oregon, Stein Lager, ventured south for the the fabled
California Gold Rush. Gather round the fire for a front row race report..

Eyebrows raised and pulses quickened, as participants of the legendary Gold
and Silver Rush saw the updated weather forecast the day before the race..
Tonight.. cold and windy with heavy snow accumulation of 14-19 inches.
Chance of snow 100%. Tomorrow.. continued heavy snow with a high of 22-25 F.
Considerable blowing and drifting.. Did I bring my softest skis? Which wax
to use? To fluor or not to fluor? Will the course be changed from a hilly
21k to several shorter laps? Race officials made a wise decision at 5am to
use the old course, a stout 15km lap with plenty of climbing. Silver rushers
completed 2 laps while the gold rush skiers were to make 3 passes on the
challenging course.

This event is not for the timid masses, and 10 minutes before the start the
starting corrals are deserted. Five minutes to the start and men and women
line up in the storm, anticipating an epic battle. The day would favor the
light and agile skier, and Stein is licking his chops. His skis test fast
and he is eager with motivation, his tank of panache and elan topped off and
ready for discretionary use. The gun goes off and Stein easily glides
into... the lead! Not where one wants to be for a 45km journey, he backs off
into 8th and lets the young and fearless charge into the wind. Visibility is
about 100m. Seven km into the game, 3 strapping young lads test the water
and venture off into the abyss. Stein contemplates pursuing them, yet he
quickly realizes that there are only 5 survivors in the chase pack and
decides to keep his powder dry. Jon Engen, Tav Streit, Zack Violet and Peter
Hanson make for good company. They settle into a pace, each taking turns
leading the chase into the lashing gale.

Stein enjoys fantastic glide, (Solda F31 Pink, Solda F40 Red, Solda Fluor 100) speaking many an apology to the taller skiers
in the group for having skied up onto them.. again. The feeding stations are
run by seasoned professionals, running alongside with warm drinks and opened
gel packets. Contrary to many events where there is a guy standing next to a
table with slushy kool aid in large slippery plastic cups. Midway thru lap
2, the patriarch of ski marathoning lunges ahead, splitting the group. Stein
is relaxing at the back, and is slightly gapped by Engen's surge. Not to
panic, Stein wisely lets the others go on, and on the 3rd lap he catches and
passes a couple of them, and they yell good work, nice job! Stein holds a
steady 6th position into the finish, a satisfying result for a great effort.
Some days it's good to be the windshield instead of the bug. Stein reports
into Nordic, who congratulates him in Finnish and suggests his favorite
post-race recovery- a beer in the sauna. That's s-a-u-n-a, pronounced
s-a-u-n-a. It means sauna, in English and Finnish.

Stein straps on the dh skis for a powder day at Mt. Rose after the race.

Photos and complete results at;

http://fasterskier.com/2009/03/swank-vinogradova-win-2009-california-gold-rush-in-white-out-conditions/

Stay tuned for Nordic Dave's lenghty and animated reports from Lappland..
Until then.. keep the klister side down and enjoy spring skiing!


--
Mr. Stein Lager
(steinlager is a new zealand beer)

Right Sizing

Gliding man was in a foul mood. The winter season was coming to an end and there wasn’t much to do around his small cabin or in the wax shop. He looked in the mirror and saw the reflection of an old man. His beard and hair were the color of the snow on Solda Mountain and he could feel that his legs and back were not as strong as in his youth. He put on his coat and trudged out the door toward his shop. On the way he met his wife, Garden Woman, who was coming from the little greenhouse where she grew a marvelous array of green foods using the heat from the wax shop. Her apron was dirty and her hands smeared with black soil. Since they had been together for generations, she could read his mood just by taking a quick look. His discontent surrounded him and she asked about the cause of such unhappiness. Gliding man pointed to the small cabin and his old, ramshackle shop. Inside the walls were covered with old, well worn tools and batches of new wax lay unfinished in their vessels on the bench. Not much to show for a lifetime of work.
Garden woman smiled and said to him, “Then, go on a quest. Look in the wider world for a better way. We are not too old or feeble to try something new. Go. See what is out of the great woods here at the base of Solda Mountain.” So Gliding Man packed a lunch of homemade cookies, cheese and bread. He filled his water bottle from the spring that bubbled from the rock of the mountain. He pulled out his old, white parka and pants so he would not be conspicuous. He then set out on the trails that led from his simple shop and circled Solda Mountain and descended to the big towns in the valley below.

The snow was transformed and fast and as Gliding Man warmed up his mood began to change. The skiing increased his heart rate and it seemed that his body and mind came awake and his energy -level increased. When he reached the valley he stayed close to the woods and skied along to where large, new houses had recently been built. Hidden at the edge of the woods he sipped water and watched the people come and go from their homes. He noticed that there were few smiles on the faces of the people even though they had many new things. He skied along the edge of the town until he came to the local school. There were no foot tracks in the playground and the ski trails that had been laid out behind the school were unused. As Gliding Man watched, the bell rang and the school children left the building. He could not help but notice that they did not have the graceful movement of children for earlier times. They seemed heavy, slow and awkward.




The sun had moved across the sky and was making its way toward darkness for a rest beyond the mountain. Gliding Man had seen enough. He started the long climb back to his home in the high valley on the shoulder of the mountain. On the way the trail passed a small mountain village where in the growing darkness children were outside chasing each other on skis around a central courtyard. There was much shouting and laughing and falling in a tangle of legs and skis.









Gliding man smiled as he quietly passed the modest mountain houses. Some of the shops were still open and in the lights he could see a few people putting the finishing touches on their day’s work. Although tired, Gliding Man was feeling much better. Another hour of skiing and he approached the lights of his cabin. As he put his skis away after coating them with Performance Red, he heard familiar voices approaching the cabin. Upon closing the shop door he turned and saw his daughter, grandson and son-in-law coming up the darkened trail. They were singing an old folk song about chasing monsters back to the dark side. Their laughter caused Gliding Man to ponder his accomplishments. His tools were old and his shop small and his food simple. His foul mood had dissipated. He smiled and opened the door for his family.

Gliding Man

Gliding Man lived in a cozy cabin in the forest at the base of the Great Solda Mountains. In the winter Gliding man rose early every day to study the snow. He carefully watched the weather and observed the beautiful shapes of snow crystals. He took the temperature of the snow and scooped handfuls of snow, blowing the flakes into the winter air. Gliding Man would then return to his shop in the back of the cabin and pour over his notebooks and begin to cook up a wax that would allow skis to glide with the speed of the wind.



Late in the afternoon one day Gliding Man stepped outside the shop with his favorite pair of old, cold snow skis. It was time to stretch his legs and try the wax that he had been cooking up all day. He skied through the forest in the falling snow and listened to the forest sounds. A gentle breeze fanned the falling flakes and whispered in the trees. He was filled with the joy of moving along the trail when he heard a new sound. It was an unhappy voice crying in the trees.

Gliding man followed the voice and came upon a young woman in the woods. She was working hard to make time on the trail on skis that would not glide. It was getting dark and as the light dimmed she knew that the monsters that lived on the dark side of the mountain would be venturing out for no good purpose. Gliding man knew the monsters from the dark side well and knew he must help this skier get home to safety. He called to the woman and said he was there to help her to glide away to safety.


Gliding man then reached into his Solda pack and found a small cube of special magic wax. He asked the young woman for her skis and he rubbed the magic wax onto the base of her skis. He used a cork to polish the wax and with his magic monster-hair brush he finished the application of the magic wax. It was almost dark when he waved to the young woman as she glided, quickly down the trail toward her home. As she was almost out of sight she stopped and turned. She said, "My name is Petra, and I thank you for the magic wax. I know I will ski swiftly home." Gliding man smiled and returned to his cabin in the forest at the base of the Solda Mountains.

Not long after that afternoon in the forest Gliding Man was reading the Ski Racing News. He saw a picture of a jubilant young woman named Petra who had just won a ski race. She was gliding over the snow like the wind.