2002 Birkie Race Stories

A collection of race stories from area skiers:

• Steve Edling, Osceola, WI
  45K Birkie freestyle, 454th male
  Well I feel this years birkie was my best effort ever. Even though it's my worst finish in 8 years. I've come to realize that it is the process and journey that is so rewarding and that the birkie is the event like a big birthday party. I love it more every year. It's a great chance to run into old friends like Kevin Westlund and crazy Tom Mikunda. The elements were rough on us clydesdales but one of these years we are going to have glide where us 200 lbs. will be flying by you little guys. I loved to see how well the Riverbrooke guys and gals did. Tommy and Kevy in top 100 again. Nobody works as hard as Tom Krenz does. How about this: Al Lindsley finished 184th without being on skis once this year. Al is in his first year of chiropractic school down in Dallas, TX. I always told him that training was overated. Only 362 more days of building ourselves up. Way to go everyone for finishing !!
P.S. See you in Calumet on March 9th.

• Mike Ivey, Madison, WI
  45K Birkie freestyle, 240th male
  It was one of those days where I knew my skis were super fast right out of the gate, literally. One hard double pole push had me smiling from the line. Anyway, what a mental boost to know you have fast skis in suction conditions. It almost wasn't fair as I cruised past buddies I finished 240th in 2:43 in my 15th Birkie. I might have been in the top 300 or 400 back in the old days but certainly not recently. Last year I barely snunk into the top 500 I was on a pair of Germina 901 skate skis with the "wet grind" from the factory. Two coats of Vauhti high fluro purple with a heavy dose of Toko jetstream over the top. All you frustrated Wave One skiers from the Banana Belt take heart. Improvement still possible at age 44.

• Matt Aro, South Range, WI
  45K Birkie freestyle, 265th male
  Most of my races seem to have gone well this year so I was about due for some misfortune :) Just before the 1K mark some guy cut in front of me. I couldn't avoid him and in a split second I did a face plant. The fall wasn't that bad but I knew something was wrong when my right ski was torn from my boot during the crash. My entire heel plate had ripped off my binding and my toe piece was a little bit loose. Not good considering I had almost 46K to go. I was very frustrated when it happened. I waited for my chance to jump back in to the rush of skiers to grab my ski. I put my ski back on and tried my best to make up as much time as possible. It was difficult having a loose toe piece and having no heel plate for my boot to rest and center itself upon. The wet snow caused my boot to slide all over the back of my ski. I guess the good news is that my skis were gliding good and I felt strong. I only wish I didn't have to be in that accident. I guess that's part of mass-start racing. Maybe I'll have better luck next year.

• Claire Wilson, Minneapolis, MN
  45K Birkie classical, 2nd female
    I grew up in Louisiana. I spent my summers in the heat of tennis courts and winter in the humidity of stuffy basketball gyms. I dreamed about winning Wimbeldon, not skiing the Birkie. It was not until college several years ago that I even saw a pair of cross-country skies. It was not until moving to MN last year that I even heard of the Birkie. Consequently, this years race found me in the 11th wave. I have been coaching and racing in the Twin Cities all winter and everyone I knew expressed great dismay when I told them of my starting position. I had visions of being involved in 12 mile long conga lines up hills, being blocked in my quest for a race by people moving at tortoise speed, skiing on a course that had been destroyed. I just knew it was going to be terrible.
   But here is how it was. I strided the Birkie. I chose to classic at six o'clock the night before the race, persuaded by some very enthusiastic classical skiers. I woke early and cheered on my friends in the elite and early waves and then agonized over my wax for two hours. By the time wave 11 lined up at 10:10, it was raining and almost 40 degrees. I was fairly convinced that I was doomed NOT to a magical race experience, but to an experiment in terror. I almost ripped off my red classic sticker and went to the car for my skating skies.
   Yet, to my amazement, it was absolutely lovely. Everyone in wave 11, and then wave 10, and then wave 9 and so on and so on were incredibly supportive. People would shout encouragment. Founders would grunt approval. Women would whoop for the classical skier from wave 11. These were folks out for the day. It was hard to stay focused on a race when everyone around me was enjoying the views, slowly making their way up the hills, cruising in the tracks. All those skiers, the ones whose mission was just to get to that far away field, reminded me every step of the way of why I love to ski. Why this sport matters so much not just to elite atheletes, Olympic powerhouses, and committed citizen races, but to lovers of the outdoors and people whose spirit far exceeds physical capacity. It was hard to stay motivated with all of that magic out on the trail.
   But at 00 I knew I was having a decent race, even without anyone to pace myself against. I had to stop to apply klister and rid my skies of all the gu packets I had picked up along the way. The last half of the race found my klister accumulating everything from orange peels to cups. I had klister in my hair, mouth, and my gloves were stuck to my poles. Like everyonelse, I thought that at 45k they had decided to lengthen the race. At this point I was in tears of some sort. I had spent the majority of the race out of the tracks, trying to keep my sights on various skaters from various waves. I had used up all my energy just trying to get some form of kick. But then those darn skiers from wave 6 and wave 7 and wave 8 kept yelling encouragement, kept moving out of the way, kept allowing me to draft them on the flats. I ended up finishing in just over 4 hours. Good enough, evidently, for 2nd overall. I would not have done as well in an earlier wave.
   As a native southerner, I still find skiing almost a mystical experience. It was a pleasure to spend my first Birkie with others who feel the same way.

• Pete Thurmes, Cottage Grove, MN
  45K Birkie classical, 2nd male
     On Friday night I waxed my regular (waxable) racing classic skis and my Fischer RCS Crown (waxless), both for wet conditions (100% fluoro, tons of structure) after hearing the forecasts of "light snow changing to rain about noon". While driving to the start in a drizzle, I breathed a sigh of relief - no agonizing wax choice needed - waxless were the ticket. And I believe my Birkie experience proved me correct.
   I started out double-poling a little slower than the other First Wavers around me, but within a few hundred yards I was able to hold my own double-poling with the skaters. A skater kindly informed me that there were tracks only a few yards to my left (or perhaps he wanted me out of his way ;) After that I was able to mostly hold my position relative to skaters by virtue of having no climbing interference - I could lope up the powerline hills on the edge of the trail at my own pace. At that point my skis were gliding a little more slowly (in the tracks) than the skaters (in the skate lane).
   By OO I had not seen another strider since turning onto the Birkie Trail, so I knew I was either out in No Man's Land (ahead of everybody) or getting hopelessly dropped by faster striders. Spectators at OO confirmed that I was the 4th strider to pass, which I could hardly believe. In the middle third of the race, my waxless skis seemed to be gliding (in the tracks) about as fast as the skaters in the lane. By the 28K marker, the tracks were sandpaper slow so I used the skate lane for the remainder of the race, and my skis were faster than skaters! I was actually outgliding skaters on downhills on the exact same line that they were using! So the crown pattern on my skis wasn't holding me back too much.
   In the first few K's, I got annoyed a few times by inconsiderate skaters, some blithely skating back and forth across "my" classic track. But by the time we turned onto the Birkie Trail, the skaters were much better. Several even yelled out, as I'd pass them at the start of a climb, "TRACK!!! Strider back!!" for me. On the longer climbs I never had a problem with a skater in my way, and for the most part the tracks were unadulterated by skaters except on the really steep sections where I was just running up the hill anyway. Even there I could always get skaters to give me room by just yelling "track". Overall I was very pleasantly surprised by the way the skaters respected my presence (sometimes interference) in their race.
   All in all skiing the race classic was a great success and a lot of fun for me. The only disappointment was the lack of serious competition. I had really expected many elite skiers to opt for classic in this first year of "legitimized striding" with separate classic award categories. I can only hope that the poor conditions were the reason for the low striding turnout among the front-wave skiers.
   To those who have ever considered striding the Birkie but felt daunted by the prospect of "fighting" all the skaters for the tracks, I have to say, "GO FOR IT!" I found that striding opened up the race for me, since I could always go my own pace. There's a lot to be said for always being able to ski at the speed YOU prefer rather than being slowed or pushed by surrounding skiers. And don't worry about losing your wave placement - you'll have two more years of grandfathering to give you ample opportunity to regain your hard-earned wave placement. And you may be surprised to find that you can ski in your wave while striding.

• Andrew Wall, Champaign, IL
  24K Kortie freestyle, 315th male
    I have been a competitive athlete in endurance sports for fifteen years, but never have I had the challenge of making to the start line that I had for this year’s Birkebeiner, and never has it been so worth it.
  Sometime this past fall I decided that I was going to ski the Birkebeiner again after an 8-year hiatus. After the birth of my son last summer, I was seeing my workout time decrease, my waistline grow, and it was becoming clear to me that just jumping into a Category I-II bike race in Spring 2002 was not going to happen without some serious winter workouts. With the help of my brother’s roller skiis I began on October 1st of last year to prepare for the Birkebeiner. I started out slowly, as roller skiing proved to extend the limits of my technique, but during October I progressed pretty well.
  Then, the bumps that are a part of all training began; I just didn’t know there would be so many in making it to the start line. Bump number one on the road to the Birkie occurred in the month of November, when each weekend found either my children or my wife sick. My great October progress stalled out, but alas December came and I found myself on a great training track again. Between roller skiing and riding my bicycling on a trainer I was making great progress all through December.
  Bump number two wasn’t so much an event as it was a series of events. First, a family decision was made that my traveling to a January qualifying race in Minnesota just was not feasible. Then my young son went through a six-week series of illnesses, including several colds, the flu, two ear infections, and a period of undetermined respitory distress that found us in the emergency room. I found myself more often in the doctor’s office than working out. January slipped into February when bump number three struck.
  Eventually, I too picked up some sort of respitory crud, and that took me out of the other qualifying race I had planned. This meant starting with no qualifying time for what at this point had become a switch to the shorter Korteloppet. Even in trying a few hard efforts the days before the main event, I found myself coughing more than breathing.
  Bump number five I shared with everyone in my Midwest, as living in Champaign, Illinois meant that as of February 20th there had not been a meaningful snow fall all year. As I was preparing to leave for Wisconsin, it was clear my first time on snow would be the 10km warm up event at Telemark scheduled for the Friday, February 22nd.
  Bump six happened somewhere between Bloomington and Rockford, Illinois. Not sure where the bump was, but the tire of the minivan is still there to mark the spot. With my four-year-old daughter and 8-month-old son crying and yelling bloody murder in the car, I changed the flat tire and put on the temporary spare. We drove on to Madison, Wisconsin and replaced the tire before continuing our trip into the night to Hayward.
  I almost relaxed that evening upon arriving at my parents cabin near Hayward, thinking that at least I made it here to have some fun and do what I could in the main event. I even fully enjoyed a wonderful 10km at Telemark on Friday afternoon. Then bump seven occurred in the Hayward Marketplace Supermarket parking lot. We turned off the car to run in for some last minute groceries and upon trying to turn on the car again, mysteriously the ignition key was locked. Now it was at this point that I thought that karma was not on my side, but karma is also a funny thing.
  Bill, of Bill’s Locksmith in Hayward, arrived about 4:45pm on Friday afternoon to repair the ignition lock. Now Bill was about the nicest locksmith for which one could ask. As he repaired the lock, he told us stories of other Birkie skiers who had locked themselves out of their cars; he entertained my cold and tired daughter; he told us stories of his daughter (of how they were going to be watching Alladin and eating popcorn later that night); and he reminded me that the lock could have broken on race morning and kept me from making it to the start line all together. Then he charged me what can only be called his absolutely lowest rate.
  It was 8 or 9 km into the Korteloppet that my frustration from my last few weeks, days, and hours worked itself out as it so often does during a great workout. Sure, those first 8 or 9km were painful, as I fought myself, the skiis, the snow, trying as I so often have in life to make things go just as I have them planned. It was only after the hi end alarm on my heart rate monitor went off, that I let go of it all, and started to just glide where the snow took me. I relaxed for the first time in weeks and started to enjoy myself.
  The next 14 kilometers were blissful and they were my own. I forgot about sick children, flat tires and balancing all of life’s demands. I breathed in the cool air, smiled and took each bump in the course as it came. I finished strongly, but finishing wasn’t really the challenge this time around . . . starting was.

• David Byrne, Minneapolis, MN
  45K Birkie freestyle, 1342th male
     Ben Byrne placed 11th in the 23k Kortelopet! (out of 1636 skiers); second place in the 15-16 age/class. I wonder if my brother Jon will take him to any of the region's remaining races in the final weeks of Ben's winning season. I bumped into Ben and Jon after picking up my race packet at Telemark Lodge. I also met Open School teachers Leo Bickelhaupt and Tim Leone-Getten.
   I skied the 46.7 km race in 3:35:00.7 at a pace of 4'36"/km, one minute slower (PER KM!) than Jon. Ben skis at a blazing pace of 2'49"/km (over 13 mph). I dropped to 1485th place (out of 4,300) from 1258th last year. Jon advanced to 345th place from 587th last year with a time of 2h48:40.3 (3'36"/km); but is still 3 minutes shy of qualifying for the first wave (40% back from the winning time of 1h57:09.2). Perhaps the Birkie officials will alter the percent back percentages because Jon should be among the fastest 400 skiers starting in the first wave of next year's Birkie. He started in the second wave this year and passed hundreds of first wave skiers. I started in the third wave and finished with a fourth wave time; but I can start in the third wave for two more years based on my qualifying time in 2001.
   " Will global warming put a sudden death to winter sports?"some Birkie skiers wonder. Rain cancelled the 2000 Birkebeiner and last Tuesday Birkie officials waited with bated breath to cancel again if the rain failed to turn to snow. Six inches of heavy wet snow on the ground Wednesday morning in Cable meant the race is on. But not all the way to Main Street in Hayward. This record warm winter created open water on Lake Hayward, so the race was shortened by 3 1/2 km to finish at Duffy's field. Three days of cool weather allowed the freshly groomed trail to firm up. After a low of zero Friday morning the forecast called for a rain/sleet/snow mix Saturday as the temps rose from the 20s into the 30s. I splurged on a magic powder that waxing wizards advise for fast skis in wet conditions: Rex TK-244 fluor pulver ($89 for 20g). I invoked its power in an esoteric application ritual ("look closely for sparkling stars") over Salmon Fastwax (for 25-35 degrees) on my Madshus XTC 334 Lillehammer Skate skis. I brought my rock skis to Hayward as a back-up, waxed with yellow ( good for 30-50 degrees).
   Saturday morning dawned with a dusting of snow that was already turning to a light rain. I put wool briefs on under my lycra skin-diving suit and then added on a sleeveless wool undershirt when the rain picked up before the 8:50 am start of my wave. I was concerned about hypothermia from getting soaked in a cold rain with temps from 33-38 degrees. Delays with clothing layer adjustments meant that I could not line up near the front of the third wave. I wondered how well I would do in this winter of minimal training. I didn't feel prepared for the Birkie's 39 hills. Almost the only skiing I did in the past month was the 24k Vinterloppet and the 45k Vasaloppet (on a lake with no hills). Last year I skied after work 2-3 days per workweek, usually on Battle Creek's challenging hills. This year I could ski only during one workweek and needed to head north to ski on weekends (and during a vacation week the end of January). I skied only 400 km before this Birkie, compared to 730 km last year; and it shows. That extra five pounds is not hidden by a lycra suit .
   I got off to a good start and noticed a difference my first time skiing in the third wave. The throng of hundreds of fellow skiers were skiing at my pace. I didn't have to wait behind slower skiers on the hills. I greeted a skier in a skinnyski.com suit, saying:"I check your website every day". I then planted a pole between his skis, jostling him. "Sorry, that wasn't on purpose". Soon after I did a 360, catching a ski tip on a power line pole I treated like slalom gates; cutting them close to avoid the mob. Several "superfriends" were in my wave, wearing Superman capes. I often skied near one of them. At first the capes seemed a burden, until recalling that I felt faster than a speeding bullet when I used to wear a cape. I was also keeping pace with a second wave classical skier, he must be the Finnish guy who finished 12th, a minute ahead of me. This is the first year the Birkie is awarding classic skiers, and attracted over 300 striders.
  Kent York (from my hometown) overtook me at the 13.7k food station; which aren't as crowded in this more competitive crowd. Knowing from previous races that we ski at the same pace, I kept up with him as far as the 23km halfway point at highway "OO". We'd been skiing a pace of 4'15"/km. Then I did the first of several delays: I stopped to shed clothing layers. The rain had let up and I was overheating in my wool undershirt. I hung it from a branch near the road, along with a windvest and assorted gear in it's pocket. I drove back to retrieve them after the race, wishing I'd asked that inquisitive spectator to bring it to the finish area for me. At 24k I stopped again at the side of the trail to pee, and also switched my skis (each to the other foot for more even wear). I was already tiring and thought that longer stops, consuming plenty of Power Gel and Powerade would prevent bonking and make my race more enoyable. Although I didn't bonk (run out of energy), muscle cramps in my thighs slowed me down several times ( around 33k, 37k, & 43k). At 37k a woman who previously passed me was stopped, squeezing her thigh and crying. I considered sharing my condition with her (as misery loves company) but continued on in pain. She eventually passed me again. I worried about Bitch Hill (at 40k ) long before I reached it; but made it up OK, albeit slowly, in minimal pain. The bitch hill gals were back again, cheering (and jeering) us on in patriotic costumes with huge Uncle Sam hats. Those last few ks went by slowly. I could see a field through the trees, but had to admit:"you're not out of the woods yet". My legs were still sore and I tried to compensate with more powerful pole thrusts. The pole baskets kept sticking in the softening snow requiring extra effort to extract.
  I sure am glad this race has been shortened. But when I passed the 45km marker on a hill after crossing highway 77, I joked to my weary fellow racers: "This race is supposed to end at 45k. I'm stopping here." I actually felt stronger climbing the final two hills, but didn't attempt to pass a struggling fourth wave skier until I was almost on his ski tails on the last downhill 100 meters from the finish line. I risked venturing into the sticky soft snow off to the side and did a face plant. I got up and across the finish line a few seconds and several skiers behind him. The sticky snow was still packed tightly into my ear. I tried to dig it out, then realized it'd be safer to let it melt and drip out. I figure my pace for the second half of the race slowed to 4'55"/km, my pace in last year's slower deep snow Birkie.
  As I was staying only a few blocks away, I avoided the long line to board a bus and walked home. The walk felt good and hardly any buses passed me. What is the delay? I checked the lost and found for my missing pants and noticed one blue Birkie gear bag there with the name of Leo Bickelhaupt. He finished the race just 3 minutes and 40 seconds behind me. Why didn't his gear bag make it into the third wave truck at the start area so it would be waiting for him at the finish? Jon was still at the Angler Bar on Hayward's Main Street when I finally got there at 2:30 pm.It had warmed up to 43 degrees and a Leinie's Big Butt hit the spot. Eight of us staying with Rob and Dana Wallace had supper club reservations at six-o-clock at Club 77, which they own. One of our group was late, being among the last skiers finishing the Birkie.