It was warm this morning, but the trail was firm and a bit icy in spots. The early light makes it easy to get an hourlong ski in before work. The skate trail was a bit rutted in spots that got a lot of sun yesterday, and the city has dug a trench from the water treatment plant to the river, so one has to step gingerly over that, but mostly the trail is hard and fast. It was just lovely! I saw one other skier (classic), two runners, and no bikers. Two Canadian geese flew by. A cloudy sky, dirty snow, the bridge raised in anticipation of the coming flood--all signs that the end of the ski season is coming. But just maybe the clouds will protect the base today and we can sleep to ski another day.
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Sunday, March 17, 2013
A ski for Ginny
When I started my ski today, I said to the trees, "This ski is for Ginny." Ginny Wood died yesterday at age 95. The last time I saw her was in 2010, when we visited Alaska and spent a few days at Camp Denali (which she founded) before traveling to Fairbanks, where we visited her at her home. She kvetched about an award she was given. Typical Ginny.
As I started my ski, the new snow sprayed up on my shins. It was fine grained snow with high moisture content. It wasn't too deep for skate skiing, but the spray felt funny--I imagined I was waterskiing. After the novelty of these unusual conditions wore off, I settled into a slow, steady rhythm and it was then that memories of Ginny came back to me. I had heard about Ginny and Celia from friends, from reading the Northern Alaska Environmental Center newsletter, etc., but it wasn't until I lived in "Dogpatch," their neighborhood on Musk Ox Trail, that I got to know them better.
I had just moved back to Fairbanks, after living "Outside" for a couple of years. I had left to join my boyfriend in Idaho and I came back married to another man--an Italian named Enrico. My friend, Buck Wilson, had a cabin on his land that he rented out, and it was free around the time we planned to move back, and he kindly rented it to us. That was a lucky break for us. We were in master's student poverty at the time. I had just finished my M.A., and Enrico was working on his M.F.A. Furthermore, I decided to pursue my teaching certification that year.
I knew the neighborhood was special from being a guest at Buck's house, attending some of his weekly saunas or movie nights, but now I begin to really see how so. As soon as you pull on to Musk Ox Trail, you can tell this is not your typical neighborhood. The road is dirt, and it is only as developed as it needs to be, and it meanders through the Taiga. Romany's cabin is the first one you come to and then Ginny and Celia's cabin. After that, the Beneschs and then a left turn uphill to Buck's place. The homes are set back from the road and all handbuilt, unique and fitting to each family.
There is a ski trail at the bottom of Ginny and Celia's property. It loops around through Herreid land and connects with the rest of the 20K university trail system. I didn't get to do much skiing in the neighborhood that first winter--first I had major abdominal surgery and then I was student teaching in North Pole, so I had to leave by 6am to make the drive and often didn't get back until 5pm. My evenings were full with preparing for the next day. The next winter I didn't ski much in the neighborhood either. I had my first teaching job at West Valley High School and I was also coaching the ski team. I had a knee surgery partway through the season--an ACL replacement--and then in spring I found out I was pregnant.
Ginny and Celia kindly rented Romany's house to us the next winter so that we would have more room and running water for when the baby was born. That winter, I skied with Celia, especially during winter break, the month before Alex was born. I felt like my joints would seize up if I did not get out and move each day, but I was nervous about going out alone. What if I fell and could not get up? I was HUGE by this point in my pregnancy. Celia was so kind--she met me to ski each day, and I think she even had to tie my boots the last few times.
When labor finally started, it was slow, so I walked up and down Musk Ox Trail, pausing to look at the stars every so often. Finally, Alex was born, and I was on child care leave for the remainder of the school year. I loved to see Ginny and Celia walking to the mail box each day, always in deep conversation with each other. Sometimes they would stop by on their way back to check in on me and Alex. Other times, I came by to see them. I loved to hear Ginny tell stories about their days as WAC pilots and starting Camp Denali. She told the same stories over and over and I never got tired of them.
When we had enough money, we bought our own house and moved away, but later I would regret it. Just being there with these wonderful neighbors was better than having one's own home. I wish we had stayed longer. I'll always be grateful for that time in our lives.
Good-bye, Ginny.
As I started my ski, the new snow sprayed up on my shins. It was fine grained snow with high moisture content. It wasn't too deep for skate skiing, but the spray felt funny--I imagined I was waterskiing. After the novelty of these unusual conditions wore off, I settled into a slow, steady rhythm and it was then that memories of Ginny came back to me. I had heard about Ginny and Celia from friends, from reading the Northern Alaska Environmental Center newsletter, etc., but it wasn't until I lived in "Dogpatch," their neighborhood on Musk Ox Trail, that I got to know them better.
I had just moved back to Fairbanks, after living "Outside" for a couple of years. I had left to join my boyfriend in Idaho and I came back married to another man--an Italian named Enrico. My friend, Buck Wilson, had a cabin on his land that he rented out, and it was free around the time we planned to move back, and he kindly rented it to us. That was a lucky break for us. We were in master's student poverty at the time. I had just finished my M.A., and Enrico was working on his M.F.A. Furthermore, I decided to pursue my teaching certification that year.
I knew the neighborhood was special from being a guest at Buck's house, attending some of his weekly saunas or movie nights, but now I begin to really see how so. As soon as you pull on to Musk Ox Trail, you can tell this is not your typical neighborhood. The road is dirt, and it is only as developed as it needs to be, and it meanders through the Taiga. Romany's cabin is the first one you come to and then Ginny and Celia's cabin. After that, the Beneschs and then a left turn uphill to Buck's place. The homes are set back from the road and all handbuilt, unique and fitting to each family.
There is a ski trail at the bottom of Ginny and Celia's property. It loops around through Herreid land and connects with the rest of the 20K university trail system. I didn't get to do much skiing in the neighborhood that first winter--first I had major abdominal surgery and then I was student teaching in North Pole, so I had to leave by 6am to make the drive and often didn't get back until 5pm. My evenings were full with preparing for the next day. The next winter I didn't ski much in the neighborhood either. I had my first teaching job at West Valley High School and I was also coaching the ski team. I had a knee surgery partway through the season--an ACL replacement--and then in spring I found out I was pregnant.
Ginny and Celia kindly rented Romany's house to us the next winter so that we would have more room and running water for when the baby was born. That winter, I skied with Celia, especially during winter break, the month before Alex was born. I felt like my joints would seize up if I did not get out and move each day, but I was nervous about going out alone. What if I fell and could not get up? I was HUGE by this point in my pregnancy. Celia was so kind--she met me to ski each day, and I think she even had to tie my boots the last few times.
When labor finally started, it was slow, so I walked up and down Musk Ox Trail, pausing to look at the stars every so often. Finally, Alex was born, and I was on child care leave for the remainder of the school year. I loved to see Ginny and Celia walking to the mail box each day, always in deep conversation with each other. Sometimes they would stop by on their way back to check in on me and Alex. Other times, I came by to see them. I loved to hear Ginny tell stories about their days as WAC pilots and starting Camp Denali. She told the same stories over and over and I never got tired of them.
When we had enough money, we bought our own house and moved away, but later I would regret it. Just being there with these wonderful neighbors was better than having one's own home. I wish we had stayed longer. I'll always be grateful for that time in our lives.
Good-bye, Ginny.
Logging the Ks
I have been skiing 54 times this winter (since December 14th), from 25min to 2 hours each time. Yesterday, I got back from Las Vegas around 2pm and was out on the trail by 6pm. It was only 5 above, so I chose to do some classic skiing, and I had the perfect wax and perfect glide. It was sunny and lovely out, and my heart and lungs felt great, so I just went full steam for about an hour, enjoying my engine, feeling the fluidity of the kick-and-glide rhythm. It was "like butter"!
Today I went skijoring with Noko. He is obviously in better shape than at the beginning of the winter too. He doesn't have to stop and rest so often, and he can really pull hard sometimes. I had to tuck a few times because I just couldn't ski fast enough to keep up with him.
We are supposed to get 4-8 more inches of snow tonight! I'm delighted that the ski season is continuing. I really thought I would come back from the conference, and it would be over. So . . . I skied a lot before I left, even just before getting on the plane. Now, with cool temps predicted for the rest of the week, it looks like I will get a few more ski outings in. Maybe I can break 60?
Today I went skijoring with Noko. He is obviously in better shape than at the beginning of the winter too. He doesn't have to stop and rest so often, and he can really pull hard sometimes. I had to tuck a few times because I just couldn't ski fast enough to keep up with him.
We are supposed to get 4-8 more inches of snow tonight! I'm delighted that the ski season is continuing. I really thought I would come back from the conference, and it would be over. So . . . I skied a lot before I left, even just before getting on the plane. Now, with cool temps predicted for the rest of the week, it looks like I will get a few more ski outings in. Maybe I can break 60?
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