FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

A Love Letter to the Ski North Ultra

I know races are a lot of logistics and times and maps, but I want to talk about my feelings. I just put on the first annual Ski North Ultra. Many people have asked me if I intend to keep this going and to that I say, if everybody lets me, I can’t imagine not. I can’t imagine it because anytime you try something new there’s going to be room for improvement. And there certainly was room for improvement in a lot of ways, but I am currently filled with an incredibly deep sense of gratitude to everyone who participated in this event either skiing or volunteering or spectating.

Sometimes I forget the magic that happens when boundaries are broken. I heard things like “My body’s never felt this way before” or “I’ve never skied trails like that before” or “I’ve never snow plowed in a race before.” I think for a lot of people, this was a totally different kind of ski event. I’ve been reflecting on the differences between perfectly manicured snowmaking loop trails that many of us have become used to and natural snow trails. The differences between hills that are less than a minute climb, and climbs that go on for 10+ kilometers. The difference in mentality between a race that goes on for a few hours vs. the majority of a day. The idea that someone could take an hour break and still come back to a top 10 finish.

For a variety of reasons, this day became an incredibly unique challenge beyond what I anticipated. Let’s start with the weather. It started as conditions were hard packed and maybe a little too fast for comfort, transitioning to fresh snowfall, which sort of miraculously appeared before skiers headed down a 10k downhill stretch from Bally Creek back to the State Park. As skiers headed west for their second “third” of the race, the sun came out and turned the fresh snow into a sort of mush that really loved to cling onto the bottom of everyone’s skis. I heard tales of thick blocks of snow under kick zones, and kilometers upon kilometers of hiking on skis. Stopping every kilometer to scrape the ice off the bottoms of skis. I also caught wind of reports of people making wrong turns, based on some confusing intersections. *Race director’s note for more course marshals next year. Please consider volunteering :)* Some skiers accepted the extra distance and completed the full route as intended; others were encouraged to simply get to 100K and head into the finish. Volunteers adapted aid stations accordingly. And as the sun came back down, after a full day of skiing, conditions came full circle back into fast and furious trails. But despite literally multiple types of conditions and what was absolutely challenging, what made my day was the smiles and resilience that kept shining through. The stories exchanged after the race. The way this day turned what felt like “my event” into “our event”.

People signed up for an adventure, and I’d like to say they found it. 52 out of about 72 skiers completed the 100 km course within the 12 hour time-frame. I think most of those people who didn’t quite make it still had a day they were proud of. I love the Twin Cities ski community where I call home, but this North Shore race drew in a community from all over the Midwest and beyond. That big lake, the snow that didn’t quite come when I was hoping and then came exactly when we needed it, the trails that made all the challenges feel worthwhile, the pushing of bodies to do something that felt hard, but doing it together, the problem solving behind the scenes by volunteers to make it the best experience possible: I really loved every minute of it. So thanks everybody, for getting behind this sort of wild idea. Today I feel filled up and can’t wait to start planning for next year.