2003 Birkie Race Stories

A collection of race stories from area skiers:

• Don Maher, Hayward, WI
  51K Birkie classical, 87th male
  Congratulations to Don Maher of Hayward, WI in completing his 100th ski marathon (appropriately at this years 30th Birkie). Don is an avid supporter and competitor in the nordic ski world. He recently completed his 25th Birkie (in a very respectable 4 1/2 hours) and has been skiing for almost 26 years. He has filled two World Loppet passports and is working on his third. Don loves skiing and the American Birkebeiner, which he is currently a board member of. Perhaps you have heard the catchy tune, "Ode to Tony Wise". He not only penned the lyrics himself but acually sings it with his wife, Jan, accompaning him on the background vocals. He is not only considered an icon in skiing by his family and friends, but truly an outstanding human being. Ski on Don and we will see on the trail!
-- Signed, Jeff & Cheryl Tumbleson, Bill & Nancy Bauer.

• Steve Thatcher, Hugo, MN
  51K Birkie freestyle, DNF
  After catching a few bad colds this year and not being able to ski very much, even when we had snow, I wasn't too sure about being able to finish this year's Birkie. So much so that I even had my wife stationed at OO just in case I wanted to bail. There were a few times during the first half that I was definitely considering it. But that seems to be par for the course every year. By the time I reached OO I was feeling OK and decided that maybe there wasn't anything wrong with me other than lack of training. I'd been to the doctor a few days earlier for a lung function test and he told me "Well you're not Lance Armstrong, but then who of us is?". So I pushed on through the second half. The part after OO really is much easier. Bitch Hill didn't even seem too bad. It seemed to go by fairly fast mentally eventhough physically it was probably slow. Now I knew I could get to the finish and my favorite part of the race. The push across Lake Hayward and the V2 down Main Street. One last climb after the Hwy 77 crossing and a few rollers and I'd be there. I started to save up energy so I could finish strong. I came to the downhill that was just before last years finish. It was nasty! They were throwing snow out on the hill as I approached. There were many grassy patches and dirt showing. I decided against snowplowing and just bombed between the grass areas. This may have been too aggressive a move. It was very icy and I hit some ruts and a bump at the bottom and did a major face plant. I lay stunned in the middle of the trial for a while. A volunteer rushed over to see if I was alright. I was. My ski had come off, I thought that was strange, but wasn't too concerned. The volunteer tried to get me off the trail because several other skiers were approaching. There were many other falls, The volunteers were stationed there for a reason. While I was standing on the side of the trail trying to clear my head 5 or 6 other skiers fell too in various other spots. I soon discovered that my pole was broken, so I thought "great, no cruising across the Lake and V2'ing up Main Street this year". Ok I'll just do it with one pole. Oops, the top sheet had separated from my ski as well. The twisting fall had cracked the ski under the binding and the boot had been ripped out breaking the binding. So it looked like I was walking. I walked about 1/2 mile to Duffy's Road were there was a Sheriff's car directing traffic. He said he'd give me a ride but he couldn't leave. I looked around and a family in an SUV offered to give me a ride to the finish. The whole time all I could think about was that guy a couple of years ago who got a ride to the finish and then jumped on the trail and crossed the line. I decided that wouldn't be the best idea. The little girl in the back seat had to tell me about her accident. It involved juice in one hand, a cat in the other and her in bunny slippers sliding down a flight of stairs. Well the cat got launched, the juice spilled and she hurt her back. So no skiing for her. So I guess I wasn't too bad off. So from not knowing if I could finish, to actually feeling pretty good it was quite a race. It's amazing what you can get out of your body on race morning. My biggest disappointment however was not being able to ski down Main Street. The Birke is an addiction. I know I'll do it again. I couldn't bear to not be part of this great event. "Birke Fever ... just get to the start line, I'll be ready to go"

• Kevin Brochman, Stillwater, MN
  51K Birkie freestyle, 52nd male
  The Birkie from wave 1.
Having been in the Elite wave for years, was put in wave 1 because of some difficulties in my last Birkie in 1999. So, with the lack of snow I entered with some hesitations of where I would end up this year. I set a goal of trying to place in the top 100. A bit off my best finish of 5th place in 1990 but hey, I am older and fatter than I was 13 years ago.
At the start of the race the FIS skiers took off, then the Elite skiers and Elite women. As I was changing my clothes, the cord went up and everyone ran up to the line to start. Oops, I guess I would have to start at the back of wave one. Then after freezing for a few minutes we were off. The Korte skiers took charge and went out real fast. Many of the top high school skiers were in the race as we all sprinted to the first hill. Once on the hill the pace kind of became relaxed with people spread out. My old 1985 Landsem skis were running quite fast as I could feel the glide. On the first downhill I made up 20 meters on one of the high school skiers and I knew they were good skis. After 20 million layers of wax, they should be fast.
I also had hopes of being in the top 15 of wave 1, this was looking pretty good as I was leading all the 51km skiers after 5km and feeling great. At about 10km I thought I heard someone behind me and I turned around and saw a young skier with a 51km bib on. My thoughts were, "where did this guy come from?" After a while I asked him his name and he told me Matt Leibsch, and I knew who he was. Matt who is just 20 from Osseo MN, had had an incredible race at Mora in the 45 km race on the lake. I pretty much figured he would beat me but I was feeling great and he followed me for another 10km before I let him lead.
When Matt took the lead the pace increased and I had some trouble staying with him. He began to drop me on some of the big hills. As we began to pass some of the women and wave 1 skiers they were making comments. I remember a female saying "you guys are flying." Another guys saying "here they come"
As Matt and I approached 00 he began to pull away on the big uphill. I thought he might leave me for dead but he was a bit slow in the feed station and I caught back up to him and took the lead again. Soon we caught the classic skiers, Brent Carlson from Stillwater, he looked tired. Then Mike Myers from Plymouth, he looked tough but he was chasing someone. Up until then I had been passing everyone on the downhills and my skis were faster than everyone. As I went down a hill the lead classic skier Egil Nilson, his skis seemed faster than mine. Egil went on to win by 5min. He placed 1st, 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, at NCAA in the early 80's. Still very tough in his 40's.
At 35 km I was still skiing with Matt, but I was starting to get pretty tired. It was getting harder to pass people. As I was going up a hill I began to cut over into the fast lane, a skier from wave 1 basically sped up and tried to keep me from getting in the fast lane. I said hup but that didn't mean much to him. I don't think he was to familiar with the fact that a faster skier has the right to over take a slower skier but asking for the best track. We exchanged a few unprintable words then I summoned the energy to drop him like a bad habit. At 40km Matt, had begun to drop me and as we went up the devil hill, he was about 30 seconds ahead of me and while I was still passing people he began to get smaller as he skied off into the distant. At 45km I was beginning to feel pretty whipped and could not wait for the finish. The last 3km on the lake I was too tired to pass any of the line of people that were spread out about 5 seconds apart. As, I headed down main street they announced my name, Kevin Brochman two time Olympian. I waved to the crowd and the volume of cheering went up considerably. It was great, certainly not my best finish, certainly not my best time, but I had energy left for once. On Sunday I found out I placed 53rd, I had reached my goal. That is a good feeling.

• Marsh Jones, New Brighton, MN
  51K Birkie freestyle, 1542nd male
  As I've moved from 'skiing for the heck of it' to 'attempting to race' I've found a number of truths and other experiences. I'd hoped to turn a time somewhere around 4:00, and finished with a 3:55... I was pleased with that.
Some truths about the Birkie:
--Starting from the 11th wave is tough. Earning your way into an upper wave is, I think, a right of passage regardless of age. The better skiers have an entirely different race than those who might be trying to record a time to move up. By the time I got to start, the elite skiers were passing Mosquito Brook, had good snow all the way, and would be interviewed, showered and enjoying the day by the time I got there.
--You no longer ski up hills in the 11th wave. You singlestick and herringbone. The sugar snow was 6" deep (or deeper) on the hills, and like skiing thru beach sand. On many of the hills, the oak leaves were stirred in to make a fine pastelike mixture that was impossible to glide on. Inevitably you wind up having to wait for slower skiers to make their way to the top (or bottom).
--Downhills are a whole new exerience in terror in the 11th wave. Particularly until the Korte fork, every hill is littered with the corpses of the fallen. Any hill with a corner in it had turned into an amazing set of 'lanes' with the shavings of snow piled up to the outside edges. Most of the downhills would not be that terrifying if freshly groomed, but the combination of moving obstacles, shaved ice, berms, made for an interesting experience. I crashed several times trying to switch lanes to avoid either the person who still lay fallen, or twice to keep from skiing over someone who crashed right in front of me. Better a slideout than an over the top.
Lessons:
--GU turns into sludge at 10 degrees. I was glad I transferred it to a flask that I could unscrew the top and bite off a glob. I'm going to experiment with the 'hotfoot' pads inside both the water bottle carrier and GU holster next time I ski a long cold day. By 'OO', what was left in the water bottle was solid.
--I carried a hat and gloves in my fannypack. Changing those at 'OO' really made a difference in how I felt the second half.
--I felt like I managed consumption pretty well. 2 cups of 'energy drink' at every stop after the split, and a chomp of GU as well, plus most of a bottle before 'OO'. I did get a hollow stomach at the base of the last hill, and did another GU, which got me to the line.
Memorable spots:
--The 'carnage crowd' at any downhill. Makes a nice marker that you should use caution if you don't know the course.
--The girls of Birch Hill. What a gas. By Mosquito Brook, I was already starting to cramp on the insides of my legs from doing so much herringbone. The girls made a long tough climb a lot more fun.
--Lake Hayward with the wind at your back. Wow. At that point, I couldn't push hard, but the snow was great and FastWax Green was the ticket. I was able to cruise V2/Field and fly along. At that point, there were skiers strung out every 50 meters or so, so there was a marker to shoot for all the way across.
--Turning onto the finish straight and having enough gas in the tank to V2 up the street:-) Of course if the camera caught me just after the finish as my leg finally cramped completely, all those style points were wasted...
Thanks to Gene, Josie, Andy, Lou, Chris and others for their help and advice this year. A few more weeks and all this white stuff will be wet enough to paddle on.

• Jim Farrell, Minneapolis, MN
  51K Birkie freestyle, 528th male
  Broken concentration
The 30th Birkie was from my wave, a very friendly race. With only one cranky exception, people were encouraging, and always had a good word when passing each other. I found I had plenty of wind to discuss the good kick classic skiers were getting, the gorgeous day, and the surprisingly good trail we were experiencing. Once again, my limiting factor was not the heart and lung, but the quadracep cramping governed my speed from about 15K on. All of my talking this year was done in passing because I never found a group to ski with. After letting the hot shots from my wave go, I skied the rest of the course alone until I pulled a Riverbrooke guy half way across Lake Hayward, he thanked me and said he'd take his turn, but I couldn't hold on for his returned favor. Earlier in the race, somewhere after OO, a minor disaster struck, bringing out the best in my fellow skiers and the support people along the trail.
We've all done it, and usually we get a face full of snow for our lack of concentration. I stuck a pole between my legs and it snapped off with hardly a sound 8" from the bottom barely interrupting my recovering ski. As the witness behind me later told the story, "A second wave skier passed me, but then stopped ahead and was fussing with something on the trail." I had stopped to pick up the basket attached to the bottom of my pole and stuffed it into my water bottle holder. When he caught me, we began to talk about my predicament. Without really looking at each other, he offered me a pole, "My wife is at Mosquito Brook, I'll tell her you're coming." Before he left, he asked if I was a skinnyskier. Wearing the skinnyski suit, I always feel the expectations are a little high of me now that the skinnyski team is full of so many rocket fast skiers, so I replied, "I'm not a race team member, I'm just a citizen who bought a suit." As he was beginning to pull away, he told me to return his poles through Bruce Adelsman after the race, then the 'masked man' told me his name, "Lou Chouinard." Well, we know each other! I held him up a little longer with my name and explaining I didn't recognise him from behind. Before he got too far away, I asked where Mosquito Brook was. "Fourteen K ahead," I thought I heard him shout out. "That's something to look forward to, Thanks!"
Fourteen K? I didn't know if I could do it. Skiers I had passed began to pass me, I started seeing third wavers and even a fourth waver pass me before I figured out I could get some poling action with the broken shaft. Without a basket, it poked through the snow all the way to the hard ground. Each time I pushed on it I thought would be the last, and each time I bent the pole in its near vertical post hole, I thought it would snap again on me. But it held up. I must have looked strange leaning to the left on that pole 16" further down into the snow than the right. But it worked, I could climb with it as the hang side of V1, though it was useless for V2 and open field.
I must have gone right past Lou's wife. She didn't see me skiing without a pole, and I don't really know the trail well enough to have seen Mosquito Brook at all. Of course, I thought it was going to be a longer haul to those fresh poles. But my new savior had stationed himself in the middle of the woods. I saw the Atomic jerseys in the trees and knew there was a refreshing feed for me, riding the Atomic RS-10's. I also saw someone I knew. "Henry, do you have a pole?" He told me he was sorry, he didn't as he handed me a drink, but his buddy gave me an old Exel Ion just my size. I thanked them not profusely enough and was off to the races again, refreshed and balanced, picking off people to pass again. What was in that feed, I got just the jump I needed? (Tang!) Too far down the trail, I thought I should have taken both of those stout Ions, given the flimsy construction of the super lights I had brought to the race. I needlessly feared breaking the right one.
The next friendly face I knew was Jey Carlson, who, for the last couple of years, has finished his race and skied back out onto the course to encourage us in. Last year he stationed himself at the 45K marker, the reported shortened length of the course to let us late wavers know we had an unexpected 2K to go. "You only have to go over the next bump, then you are on Lake Hayward." Just the incentive I needed to kick it up into a higher gear before even seeing the lake. I felt great pulling into the wind, but the lake was long and ultimately tiresome leaving nothing left for a glorious looking finish up main street. I resorted to a slogging V1 on the mashed potatoes and was passed at the line by a wave one gal. I gave just about all I could have. With all the help and encouragement, I finished tired, spent and with a personal best. The unnamed volunteers passing out the drinks, warning us of dangerous downhills and grooming the trails set the scene. And those I could name for going the extra mile deserve special recognition. Thanks to all who helped this skier to one of his best races ever.