Intervals with Border Collie

Today we went for a family ski. I was the rabbit, followed by Noko (chasing the rabbit) harnessed to Enrico, followed by Alex, who is supposed to be taking it easy, since he just had his wisdom teeth out. We did a loop following the skijor trail I set yesterday. We saw family groups of snowshoers and lots of other skiers enjoying the warm day. It was 27 degrees above zero.

When Enrico and I got home (Alex wanted to ski a bit more on his own), I changed my equipment for skate skiing and went out on the skate trail. My first skate ski of the season! I couldn't help laughing out loud with delight. Soon my heart rate zoomed up to 181, so I realized that I needed to slow down a bit, but it is so fun to go fast.

I crossed paths with Alex near the water treatment plant. I took a photo of him and he took one of me, and then we continued on.

I went to Lindenwood Park, where the skate trail ends, and then came back. When I got near the water treatment plant again, I saw a woman skiing, and she said, "You certainly look like you are enjoying your skate skiing." I must have had a goofy happy smile plastered on my face this whole time.

When I got up to the dog park, the skate trail is adjacent to the dog park. A border collie ran right over to the fence. "Let's go!" I called, and he raced me to the end of the dogpark. I had to stop and catch my breath, but he was eager to go again, so I turned back and raced him the length of the dog park again. Hmmm, this could be a great way to do interval training AND exercise a dog. But by now I was tired, so I headed home.

It was warm enough for my lighter gloves today. 

French Braid, Pleather, and Four Deer

With the winter storm that blew through this week, we finally got enough snow for the Fargo Parks track setter to make tracks for the first time this season. I noticed an unusual pattern in the berm between the ski tracks--it looks like the snow has been french braided. I wonder what caused this?

Near Ponte Park, I noticed another new snow texture I had not seen before--it looked just like pleather! The wind was blowing pretty hard in that area, so I didn't want to stop and take off my glove to snap a photo, so I can't show you that one. Just imagine, though, skiing on pleather!

Even though there were set tracks, I decided to spend the first part of my ski breaking a skijoring trail for Noko. Now that he's older, he doesn't really want to skijor through untracked snow. If there is a trail to follow, he is more motivated. Maybe Enrico will take Noko out later on this trail.

I was also a bit worried that the trail was not set up yet because my neighbor, Darren, said the tracksetters were out this morning. I tested the trail on the other side of Ponte Park, and it was firm, so I decided to ski in the new tracks. After a few strides, I melted into a wonderful rhythm thanks to perfect wax, perfect tracks, perfect day.

It was a brisk 3 below and a bit windy when I started out, but 90 minutes later I could feel the warmth of the sun, and I was pretty sure the temperature was above zero.

Although I've been sick with a wicked cold the last couple of weeks and a part of me just wanted to stay in the warm house, drinking tea and reading a book, I'm glad I got outside for a ski. It definitely cleared out my sinuses and filled my lungs with some fresh air. I got to see a group of four deer, too!

Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer, so it should be a great time for folks in the Fargo area to get out skiing!

Skittish fox, calm deer

As you can see, there is not enough snow to set tracks, and there are lots of leaves and grass showing through.

Okay, the snow is pretty minimal, but it was sixteen degrees above zero this morning, so at least there had not been melting since my Monday morning ski. I liked the pre-breakfast ski so much that I did it again this morning, but doing the loop in Gooseberry Park instead of skiing to I-94. I could just barely make out my tracks from a week and a half ago, so I followed them because a bit more snow had drifted in them, making for less contact with grass and leaves. It's a slog on the waxless, cheap Trak skis, but it is still skiing and it feels wonderful!

On my way back, I glanced up just in time to see a fox dart into the brush. I think he will eat well this winter on our plentiful urban bunny population in Fargo. They've been fattening up on garden produce all summer and will make a tasty meal for Fox.

A bit later, I had that feeling of being watched, so I looked around, and there was a deer bedded down in the brush, just a few yards from me. She watched me carefully, ducking down a tiny bit more as I passed by. I'm glad she did not feel the need to get up. Eating is not as good in this season for her as it is for the fox.

After my hour of diagonal striding, I was pretty hungry and devoured a delicious veggie-egg white frittata (made by Enrico) with some toast and water while writing this. Time to head to work!

Fat Tire and Skinny Hooves

Fat tire & skinny hooves

My arms were sore from skiing yesterday, but the snow and sunshine beckoned, so I decided to go for my first bike ride on snow for this season. I wanted to try my new ski tracks app to track the Gooseberry Single track loop. I headed out on the bike path toward Lindenwood Park, went across the bridge to Minnesota and rode around the singletrack in Gooseberry Park. I felt kind of clumsy at first, but soon got the hang of biking on snow again. I still feel the handlebars on the Fat Boy are too wide, though. My app tells me I was out for 1 hour and 12 minutes, which seems right, but that I  covered only 2.9 miles. I'm pretty sure that distance is not accurate. It's a mile and a half just to Lindenwood. Hmmmmm. Whatever--it was great to be outside and get some exercise.

Fat Boy got tired and had to take a little rest.

First ski of the 2018-19 season

We had horizontal snow yesterday, so I didn't think any skiing would come of it, but the wind settled during the night and the day dawned sunny and still, so I thought I might as well take the rock skis out and gear up the dog for a little skijor instead of the usual walk. There wasn't much accumulation, but I figured if we skied mainly on the grass, it should be OK. Noko was game, so we headed out to the dog park. We saw a bald eagle within the first five minutes of our ski. What a wingspan!

Noko was a bit pokey on the way out, but when we turned to come back, he put in three spirited 100-meter pulls. With my new Apple watch, I now know that my heart rate spikes up into the 160s when he sprints because I double-pole hard to get the most out of it. The rest of the time my heart rate is in the 120s-130s, so I guess I could say that skijoring with Noko provides me with some moderate interval training!

After our little outing, I went out again and skied on my own to Gooseberry Park, skiing a little loop and then coming back along the river. I went back up to the dog park again, back down to the water treatment plant, where I took this photo, and then called it a day. I skied for 100 minutes total--not bad for the first ski of the season. I guess my workouts at the Y and biking to work have been good for getting my ski season started on the right boot.

A nice day to zip around on a bike

I woke up shortly after six this morning to the sound of birds starting to sing outside my window. It finally feels like spring time.  The snow is pretty much melted, and I'm back from my travels, so I pumped up the tires on my MB-0 (zip) to bike to work today. Although I'm slow and sluggish, my bike was quick, so it was a fun ride. 

A very wintry 30 days of biking

Well, I'm failing at #30daysofbiking, after just a few days. I had to go up to Turtle Mountains for a  for work, and found that my bike would not fit in my state fleet vehicle, so I just gave up and went for walks. When I got back to town, it was cold and snowy, so I went to the YMCA and biked indoors. Yesterday, I finally got back outside on my fatbike for a loop around Fargo-Moorhead after work, checking out the Gooseberry trails along the way. I saw this neat little shelter someone had built and it reminded me of how my sister and I once built a shelter out of driftwood out near Delta Junction up in Alaska. Whenever we returned to that campground, we would check to see if it was still standing. 

Biked to the Bison on a Snowy Day

You've heard of "the agony of defeat," but have you heard of the agony of de seat? That's what I was feeling on the second day of #30daysofbiking, but I was glad to be using my bike to get to work at North Dakota State University on a snowy morning. I parked my fatbike in the rack by the Bison sculpture, whose posture suggests he is trudging on through a storm--inspiration for the ride home. 

Day 1 of 30 Days of Biking

Although it is still below freezing, and we still have plenty of snow, I chose to bike instead of skiing  because #30daysofbiking begins today. I dragged my fat tire bike out of the basement, pumped up the tires, put on a helmet, and set out. Little did I know I was about to play a little "April Fools" joke on myself.

It was nice to have that blank canvas experience with the bike--I was really surprised that no biker, let alone pedestrian, had been on the sidewalk leading up to the water treatment plant. I rode over and followed the bike path to the bridge that connects Lindenwood Park (in Fargo) with Gooseberry Park (in Moorhead). From there, I had access to the single track trails in the woods by the river. The new snow from our two consecutive snowstorms made me glad I was on a fat tire bike, but was not too challenging.

Nevertheless, I noticed that my balance was not the greatest. This could be because 1) I was never a very good technical rider, even when I used to race 2) I have not been on a bike in a long while, and/or 3) This fat tire bike handles differently than the Bridgestone MB-zip that I've spent more time on. Little did I know that it was actually #4 (which I didn't figure out until I had headed home). Anyway, I had fun rediscovering how to ride on snow and not grip the handlebars so tightly. Although some dog walkers had widened the trail, there were a few sections with just the bike tires to follow. I felt wobbly, but did OK following them, until I just spun out, lost control of my bike, and almost hit a tree.

Oops!

I decided to turn back at that point, also because I knew I would have a very sore rear end tomorrow anyway. As I was riding home, I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to put in my contacts after my nap and left my glasses by my bed. I was so excited to wear my sunglasses that I forgot that they are not a prescription pair, so basically, I had been doing this whole ride without being able to see well (#4). Nice little April Fools joke on myself. Getting older comes with free entertainment.

I'm smiling, but I can't really see anything.

More new snow for a March 31st Spring Ski, with Fox!

Big fat flakes were coming down last night when Enrico picked me up after my 90-minute massage. When we got home, I went directly to bed, had a long, deep sleep, and woke up to several more inches of new, fluffy snow!

The clouds had cleared, the snow was shining, so I geared up for a spring ski. The remaining kick wax on my Kneissl classic skis was a perfect match for this morning's cool conditions. Like yesterday, my eyes drank in the unbroken canvas of new snow, sparkling in the sun. I couldn't even tell where yesterday's trail was, so I began breaking a completely new trail.

The blank slate of snow left by last night's storm

After a few minutes, I saw I was not alone--a red fox was running across the river. When it arrived in the shadows at the opposite bank, it paused to look at me for a few seconds before darting into the woods. I skied up to the point at which its tracks led across the river and took the photo below. I followed its tracks in reverse order to see where it had been. I could see that just before making a beeline across the river, he had been meandering around where the pipes from the water treatment plant join the river, and I could see he had slipped and kicked up some slush where the river was not quite frozen.

The fox's tracks crossing the Red River to the Moorhead side.

As I continued on my way, I kept seeing that fox's trail. He must have been hunkered down during the storm last night, and so was active this morning. For awhile, his track ran parallel to my ski trail, and in a more protected part of the trail, I could see the faint indentations of my track from yesterday.

Fox on the left, human on the right

When I got near Lindenwood Park, I came to the open water where I saw the geese yesterday. They were not there today, and I could see that the river had risen since then. Because the Red River flows north, upriver is south, where it is warmer, so the spring "break-up" is quite dynamic, though the signs are subtle right now. Something not so subtle, however, was that some water had flowed over the banks and seeped under the ski trail, and I had an unpleasant breakthrough where I got my skis wet.

This is where the fox first came over to the Fargo side from Moorhead.

I tried continuing on, but it felt as if someone had attached lead weights to my skis, so I had to stop and deal with the issue. But first, I had to pee, so I stopped by a big tree and relieved myself. Using the tree for balance, I took off one ski and used the basket of my pole to scrape all the ice off the bottom. I tapped my boot on the tree to get the snow off before stepping back in my binding. Then I took off my other ski and repeated the scraping. When I continued on, this seemed to have solved the problem, though I would not be breaking any speed records today. As I continued, I watched carefully for other signs that there might be some water under the snow.

When I got near the campground at Lindenwood Park, I saw more geese and a pair of ducks hanging out in the open water. A lot of water had seeped under the ski trail, so I veered upland near the camp ground to avoid it. This spot is always very sunny, so I stopped and watched the geese for awhile, before heading uphill. I decided to ski across the field rather than along the river--a decision with unpleasant consequences, as the wind was roaring across the open field and hitting me head on, sucking all the warmth from my body. I regretted choosing to wear only a headband today instead of a hat.

After making a dash for the woods again, I got to put in a little telemark turn on the hill descending back down to the river bottom--fun! Once I was down there, I had to bushwhack a bit to get back over to the trail, but I didn't want to rejoin it until after the wet spots I'd encountered on my way out. I picked up a few burrs and got slapped by a few branches, but I didn't care, as I was happy to be out of the wind again.

As I got near the ski trail, I saw a skier coming toward me. Could it be? Yes, it was my husband. He had his head down, concentrating on striding along at a good pace. I decided to have some fun with him. I hid behind a tree, and when he got close to me, I whistled at him.

No response, I whistled again, louder, still no response. "Hey, good lookin'," I shouted.
Still no response. I guess he doesn't tolerate sexual harassment from his spouse.
It was then I realized that he had headphones on and he had passed me and was moving at a good pace, so if I wanted to say hi, I had to disentangle myself from the brush quickly and hop into his tracks and sprint to catch up, which I did. I then skied right up next to him. When he finally saw me, he was appropriately startled, having been deep into listening to his jams--Deep Purple, Dire Straits, and Meatloaf.

We chatted for a little while. He told me he wasn't even sure I had come this way, as my track got completely filled in by the wind-driven snow. By now I had been out for an hour and half, and with that windy section to look forward to at the end, I reluctantly said good-bye and continued on my way.

Before getting to the windy section, I put some muscle into my ski to build up internal heat before it would be leached away by the wind again.

I got back to the part where I had seen the fox. His tracks were almost erased, as mine will be--whether by wind or by spring melt. But I remember seeing him, and I hope, by reading this blog, my "tracks" left behind in this world, some soul will remember me.

JK about Last Ski on March 13th--Good Friday Ski Today!

The dike covered in new snow

I woke up at 4:30am because it seemed lighter out. When I looked out the window, I saw there were several inches of new snow! I did go back to sleep, but as soon as I woke up again, I got dressed for skiing and went outside. It was about 14 degrees F above zero and NO WIND.

A close-up of the new snow on the dike. 

It. was. magical. Fluffy powder that had accumulated on the west side of the dike, flowed around my legs mid-calf, as I kicked up to the top. It was still cloudy out from the departing winter storm, but a few rays of sunlight reflected on the new snow crystals and sparkled back at me. As I descended down the dike, I delighted in the floaty feeling of gliding that I thought I wouldn't feel again for several months. What a treat! And a day off work, so I didn't have to rush through this wonderful experience.

I took time to take photos of the new snow. I love the blankness of it. No one else had been out yet, and the possibilities seem so exciting. What kind of ski would this be? It didn't matter at all because it is a bonus ski--I really thought that when I left for Kansas City on March 13th, I would not be skiing again this season. I like the untracked snow just as I love the blank page. I know a lot of people don't like staring at a blank page, but I do. I like the newness, the potential. Anything could happen...

More untracked snow. But this is different. 

Like today--I was startled by the honking of a flock of geese wheeling above me. On the surface, this looks like another white, wintry day, but it's not--this is just a temporary covering on what is really spring. There were lots of little reminders of this, not just the big, loud reminders like the honking geese. For example, look in the top right corner of the photo above, and you will see a barely covered puddle. It didn't get *that* cold last night, so I doubt it's really frozen. I wouldn't ski across it.

Another little reminder, every time I planted a ski pole, I could feel a little give to the ground under the snow--it's not frozen hard anymore. And in a couple of spots, a frozen puddle gave way under my ski. Once there was water underneath, and I had to stop and clear off the clump of snow that immediately collected on the wetness.

Canadian Geese taking a break in the Red River of the North

I heard new bird calls--the woods are filling up. Also, the light is different--the sun is up early and rises in a different spot on the horizon. The river is flowing in the open spots, and it has flooded some of the lower areas near the river already. So, despite looking a lot like any other winter day, this really was a spring ski.

When I got home, I encouraged Enrico to go out skiing right away, while the snow lasted. When he came back, I had a big brunch ready for him and Max and our neighbors. After brunch, I tried going out again with Noko, but the magic was already gone--I couldn't glide at all without snow clumping up on the bottom of my skis, and each stride completely denuded the track of snow, leaving a muddy strip behind. I took off my skis and walked home with the dog, both a little glum, squinting as the now bright sun reflected off the rapidly melting snow.

Last ski on March 13, 2018

Tuesday morning, March 13, 2018 Last ski of this season

Today I had to drive down to Kansas City, Missouri--a nine-hour drive--for the Conference on College Composition and Communication, so I went out for one last ski before leaving. The trail was a bit icy in the parts that had melted yesterday, but it was still a very good ski. I have definitely made the most of the skiing in these last few weeks, getting out virtually every day and sometimes twice a day. Quite frankly, I'm pretty tired out at this point! Nevertheless, I will be sad when I get home on Sunday and there will be no more skiing in Fargo for this season. Until next winter!

Skiing Under the Full Moon after NDSU Press Party

After watching my friend Denise Lajimodiere rock the NDSU Press party (she read from her recently published book of poetry titled Thunderbird), Enrico and I went out for a ski in the moonlight. The full moon was bright, lighting the ski trails, and there was no wind, so we could really enjoy the experience. Some of the untouched snowflakes caught reflections of the moon and magically sparkled at us. The trail was very fast, with a few icy spots from the day's thaw.

On the way back, it seemed like the edges of my peripheral vision were becoming blurry. "I'm just getting tired," I thought, but then I noticed that there was a fuzzy halo around the moon, and as we went around a bend of the river, it was clear that a fog had formed since we headed out. It made the whole scene look even more mysterious and magical. We were out for about an hour and half, gliding along, then pausing and talking. It was kind of romantic and the closest thing to a date that we have had for the very busy past two months.

Birkie Video

Here is a video of the 2018 Birkebeiner--the largest ski race in North America

Divine Diagonal-stride Dawn

After the weekend's snowfall, Fargo Parks groomed the ski trail along the river from Dike West to Lindenwood Park. We finally got enough snow to cover the sticks that had been poking through the trails all season, so I took out my "good" classic skis for a ski this morning before work. I left home just before 7am. The whole circuit took me about 65 minutes from my doorstep, which is quite a bit faster than I was skiing it in December, so that feels good. What I really liked about the first part of my ski were the beautiful colors in the sky. I don't know if you can see it in this photo, but the part of the tracks that has been smoothed by the first few skiers skiing over them is reflecting that lovely pink in the sky. It felt magical to glide along these two rails of ethereal light.

When I turned around at the I-94 bridge, a different sight greeted me--the sun was up. This was also a delightful view. I had a good sweat worked up by then, and the fire in me greeted the fire in the sun. It was an electrifying moment of connection with the natural world. This is why I ski--to feel connected to the earth, to be a part of it, and to really know I am alive.

New Navajo Nordic Skier in the Morning--Unexpected Ski Next to I-29 in Afternoon

We got MORE new snow last night, and this morning, Wahleah Watson came over to learn how to ski. It was a joy to introduce this strong Navajo woman to what I hope will become her new favorite sport (after Crossfit). She took to it immediately--executing step turns with grace and style and figuring out the weight shift right away. It was a perfect day--no wind, warm temperatures, soft new snow, and the clouds cleared and the sun came out while we were out on the trail.

After she left, I packed up the Subaru to head up to Belcourt to lead a workshop for juniors in writing on demand, and I had a full car of stuff to bring to Denise's cabin, since she is clearing out her house in Moorhead. I was zooming along on cruise control at 75 miles per hour about 35 miles north of town. I turned into the left lane to pass a car, but noticed that I wasn't passing, so I tried pushing down on the accelerator, and something weird happened.

It felt like the gas pedal was stuck in the "floor it" position, yet the car was losing speed. I took it out of cruise control, maneuvered back into the right lane, keeping an eye on another car coming up to pass. I continued to lose speed--something serious was wrong, so I pulled over onto the shoulder, and the car died. I smelled something burning, and I could see a bit of smoke coming out from under the hood. I quickly turned off the car. Then I sat there for a moment, wondering if it just needed time to cool off.

The car shook back and forth as traffic rushed by. I was definitely beyond the rumble strips, but I wished I had pulled off further. It was unnerving to feel the car shaking with each passing vehicle. I tried starting the car to move it over more, but there was no response. I called AAA--was going to need a tow home. They said it would be about an hour. I was feeling anxious and I didn't want to be rocking back and forth, so I got out, put on my skis, and just skied up and down the side of the interstate until the tow truck arrived. Skiing is a great stress reliever, and I got a bit of a workout in while I was waiting.

My ski trail leads to the back bumper, which reads "I'd rather be cross-country skiing" 

My wax was perfect for conditions--extra blue--and the sun shone brightly. There was a bit of a breeze, as you can see in my selfie below, but I stayed toasty warm until the tow truck arrived.

Presidents' Day Ski: "Topographical Buddhism"

Today was ten degrees colder than yesterday. And windier. There was no new snow. I worked most of the day at home because it's Presidents' Day, but about 3:30pm, I decided it was time to get outside, even though it did not look very appealing. Enrico, who had been out for a walk earlier, cautioned me to dress warmly and not forget my neck gaiter. 

Once I was bundled up, I headed out, but my legs felt dull. Perhaps I was tired from  the three skis on Saturday and long ski on Sunday, but I just didn't have much spring in my stride. As Sam Anderson writes in a recent NYTimes article, "What Cross-country Skiing Reveals about the Human Condition," cross-country skiing is "notoriously, almost inhumanly, exhausting — a brutally sustained nonthrill." So why would I want to choose to ski as a "break" from all my other work? 

Anderson thinks it is because "cross-country skiers lean right into a bleak truth: We are stranded on a planet that is largely indifferent to us." I can see his point there, especially on a day like today. There's nothing really warm or welcoming about this gray day--the cold temperatures make my skis drag; I don't take any photos today because I don't want to expose my skin in the wind; the dull light makes it hard to see irregularities in the snow surface, causing me to slip and almost trip at times. There are no other people out here--even the animals and birds are hiding today. Nature is indifferent. And to connect with it while out skiing on a day like today, I literally had to "lean in." Lean in to the wind, lean in to the camber of my skis to get purchase on the icier parts of the trail.  And also mentally lean in to find a connection inside myself with the cold, gray environment around me. In fact, I did a couple of extra loops today, staying out for ninety minutes. Because it was too cold and windy to stop and rest, I kept moving the whole time, but why? 

Anderson might have an answer. He asserts that "Cross-country skiing expresses something deep about the human condition: the absolute, nonnegotiable necessity of the grind. The purity and sanctity of the goddamn slog." In reflecting on this assertion, I thought about how none of us had a choice about coming into this world--we got signed up for "the grind" by our parents. So here we are. Choosing to cross-country ski is a way to make that choice our own. It's a way of saying, I'm here, I can do this. 

Another answer about why cross-country skiers do what they do takes Anderson longer to unfold: "And yet consider the world that this suffering unlocks. Racers rake the stark landscape with their angular shadows. They slide into a whiteness beyond civilization, etching thin parallel tracks over the face of infinity, through places most of us will never go, past the pitter-patter of animal tracks in old-growth forest. This is one of the sport’s great consolations: access to a landscape so stark it merges with the spiritual state of absolute exhaustion, a simultaneous emptiness and fullness that is essentially religious — topographical Buddhism."  Yes, that gets at it. When I "slide into whiteness" here along the Red River of the North, on the flat white, in the flat light, I become flat as well. In a state of exhaustion, I'm no longer me--I am becoming a part of everything else in the world. As I get colder, approaching the same temperature of the snow around me, my self slips away. Anderson is right--it is a spiritual state. 

New Snow on Sunday!

I still get excited when I see new snow in the morning. It also looked a bit windy, so Enrico and I felt it was our civic duty to get out to the trails and ski the new snow into the tracks before it all blew away. We had a good, long ski at a steady pace. The new snow felt soft under our skis. Compared to yesterday, it was like the difference between leather slippers and shearling-lined slippers. We saw another family out skiing; one of the parents was pulling their child behind them in a pulka-type sled.

The new snow was white compared to patches of old snow that were kind of grayish.

This photos shows the new snow blown into the ski tracks is whiter than the old snow revealed by the wind. 

The sky was gray and the light was dull. But Enrico and I skied side-by-side the whole time, so my heart was warm. 

Skiing around the Hjemkomst Center with Job Candidates

     NDSU English lost 7 professors last year, and due to budget cuts, we can replace only two of those positions. I'm on the search committee, and our finalists for the positions have been visiting campus, but two wanted to try out cross-country skiing. I jumped at this opportunity because I believe the cross-country ski trails in Fargo-Moorhead add significantly to our quality of life here, and I love introducing people to this wonderful life-long sport.
     After picking up the candidates from their downtown hotel, I took them over to Scheels in Moorhead to rent skis. Scheels just got new cross-country equipment in their rental department. After getting the equipment, we drove to the Hjemkomst Center, where there are about 5 kilometers of trails groomed for both classic and skate skiing. Prairie's Edge Nordic Ski Club's groomer, Arnie, had just done a fantastic job of re-texturizing the snow and laying new tracks, so conditions were the best they could be with the minimal amount of snow we have. To make the outing even more pleasant, the sun was shining, and the wind was light. With temperatures in the low 20s, this was an optimal ski day. We ran into a couple of other ski club members, Jay Richardson and John Pfund, and they made our candidates feel welcome on the trails. We also met a man and his son who had driven all the way from Minot to try out our trails. There was a deer sighting as well.
     The candidates said they had a great time skiing! Afterwards, I took them to visit the Hjemkomst Center to see the Viking Ship built by Robert Asp. When I dropped them off at the hotel, I hoped they would think of Fargo as a place where one can enjoy winter and local culture.
     When I got home, I had some lunch, took one of my 20-minute power naps, then changed over to skate equipment for a skate ski on the trails by my home. I had a fast ski in the great conditions, and when I got home, my dog Noko looked like he also wanted an outing, so I changed equipment again, and took him out for a skijor. With the crust, we could go off trail easily so as not to disturb the grooming. Occasionally he would break through, but he was so happy to be out that he just powered through it. We had a fun time together. Anyone else want to enjoy skiing today?
     

Twilight and Sunrise Skis

February has been busy with chapter revisions due, reports to write, and candidates visiting at NDSU, not to mention teaching and starting a new research project, but I have found time just before sunrise or just after sunset to dash out to the trails for a quick ski. Here are photos from an evening ski last Sunday and a morning ski on Wednesday. It's great to have a bit of extra light in February to make time for skiing.

Skiing in the Turtle Mountains

Saturday Morning Skate Ski with My Dear Husband and Deer

It was 26 degrees this morning--perfect for skate skiing--so I asked Enrico if he wanted to go with me. He said it had been "years" since he had skated, which I find hard to believe. After some hemming and hawing, he agreed to go with me. This morning's conditions were a bit icy because of the melting yesterday, which made for fast conditions, but we both felt our shins and ankles tensing up quite a bit from efforts to keep our balance on the icy trail. However, with rising temperatures, later in the day it would be too mooshy for good skate skiing, so we enjoyed the moment.

It was a cloudy morning, which is probably good because there are some spots that are very thinly covered with snow and any sun on them will probably cause melt-through to the bare ground. We had a nice ski, even stopping to take a selfie, above, (which Enrico doesn't often agree to). When I got up to the dog park, there was an Irish Setter, so I whistled at him to race me the length of the dog park, which he did for awhile before giving up.  I had fun doing a series of quick step turns at the end of the dog park to turn around, but when I did, I saw Enrico was nowhere in sight! I hustled back to see what had happened to him. He had fallen, but he was okay.

As we were standing there talking, we saw some movement across the river--a herd of deer was moving through the trees. At that moment, a skier came by and I asked if he saw the deer. He was into his skate ski and didn't hear me. We saw him again after he turned around at the dog park and pointed them out. I skied the length of the dog park. This time the Irish Setter was completely uninterested in racing me. When I turned around, Enrico was not there again, so I skied back to find him. He had stopped to talk to the skier, who told him that he often sees a red fox when he skis in the morning. This time, Enrico and I skied to the end of the dog park together.

At the end of the park, we saw a dog off leash--his owner was watching him from the car. I've met the guy before--he's older and a veteran and had knee surgery last year. I pick up his dog's poop because he doesn't seem able to do it. I was sad to see that he didn't even feel well enough to get out of his car today to exercise his dog.

On the way back, Enrico and I stopped to catch our breath. I looked across the river.
"The deer are still there," said Enrico.
"It's amazing how good they are at hiding in a place where there is actually little cover," I responded.

"Hey, do you remember our first date?" I asked, "When we met up in McCall, Idaho?" A friend of my roommate had won a weekend at a timeshare in McCall, and she couldn't use it, so she let me have it.
"Did we go downhill skiing that time?" he asked.
"Yes, we went cross-country and downhill on that trip," I replied. "I was entranced by how beautifully you downhill skied, how supple your hips were."
"Oh, if you had seen anyone from my high school team, you would not have been so impressed," said my modest husband.

We chatted a bit more, then we saw a burst of movement on the opposite bank. There were some children sledding who had startled the deer, and the herd was on the move. We watched as the deer streamed down the bank in a line and onto the river. We counted nine of them; one had a limp. They began running up the river, and I said, "Let's ski beside them!" So we skied in the same direction, watching them run, until they turned to go up the riverbank again and into the woods.

"The last one twitched his ears, then waved his tail back and forth, as if to erase our memory of having seen them," said Enrico to our son later. 

Two morning skis: Sun Salutation and Mother-Son Ski

Twenty-Six degrees ABOVE zero today! I went for a ski to greet the sun, enjoying watching the light first touch the buildings and trees on the river bank, and then slowly light up the trees below. Skate conditions were fast. I could see that there had been a lot of skate traffic on the trail since yesterday morning--perhaps the Moorhead High School Ski Team was training yesterday afternoon. I enjoyed this solo ski today because it gave me time to think about my older son, Alessandro, returning to college today. I am really going to miss him!

When I got back, I made him a cup of chai tea and asked if he would like to ski before heading to the airport. He said yes! My heart swelled--one more mother-son ski before he heads back to Wesleyan.

When we headed out about 9:30, the sun was already high in the sky. We stopped a couple of times to take photos and talk. OK, I got a bit tearful, as the picture of a day out skiing with my dad popped into my mind's eye. I'm so glad that I have this same ski bond with Alex. He really enjoyed being out in the warm temperatures on the fast trail.

After our ski, we quickly showered, ate, and headed to the airport. Before he left, he said, "Maybe we can do a mother-son outing this summer too, like a hiking trip." He knows just what to say to make it easier for me to let go. 

Pre-Dawn Skate Ski on Newly Rolled Trails

I got on the ski trail at 7:38am this morning, and it was light enough to ski during this time that is called "civil twilight," although sunrise was not until 8:06am. It was 16 degrees warmer than yesterday (6 above!), so I decided to skate ski, a good decision as the trail had been freshly rolled, leaving a corduroy surface. Unfortunately, some parts of the skate deck were marred by someone being too eager to ski on after the groomer passed by:

Trails that have just been groomed need time to "set up" before they are firm enough to ski on. I learned about this when I was a teenager, out skiing on the UAF trails late at night. The groomer passed by, paused, and waved me over. He explained how the trail needed to set up overnight, so if I could please ski on the trails he wasn't grooming, then I and other skiers would have a much nicer trail to ski on that week. I was glad to know this and changed my route.

Here's an example of my track this morning on a segment of trail that had been set up (to compare with the above):

Even when the trail is "set" it is best if walkers and bikers stay off the trail. In a couple of sections, I saw how a fat tire biker had dug into the skate deck when he or she tried biking on the trail for a few yards. Fortunately, this person thought better of his decision and moved off the trail:

When I got to the Dog Park, I noticed that Fargo Parks had put up a new sign to remind people of ski trail etiquette. I hope it helps educate people about ski trail use:

The ski trails, like the swimming pools and hockey rinks, add to quality of life in Fargo-Moorhead. I hope people will treat them well, especially given how little snow we have right now.