Skiing in the French Alps!

Today my dream of cross-country skiing at Montgenevre finally came true! We had been here only once before in winter, in 2006, when Torino hosted the winter Olympics, and we were too busy going to Olympic events or skiing the fresh powder on the downhill slopes to explore the cross-country trails at the time. This time, however, I was determined to try Nordic skiing in the Alps, despite not having slept well from coughing due to a cold. I drank lots of hot tea, waiting for the rest of the family to wake up. When everyone was up, I made French toast (mais oui!), and then we walked down to the village to rent Nordic skis at the little shop next to the tourist center. For 15 euros a day each (the price is less if you rent for additional days), we were outfitted with Salomon boots, waxless classic skis, and poles. We then went to the little hut to get ski passes, which cost 15 euros a day, a seven-day pass cost. We scanned our passes at the turnstile across the street, and three different loops of wide trails groomed for skating and classic were ours! 

This little pass between France and Italy had received loads of snow in the last week, and the evening low had been 20F; at mid-day, the temperature was hovering above freezing, but the trail was not mushy. The pass is just under 6000 feet in elevation, and the sun was intense. I was glad I brought sunglasses.

We did the first little loop, “Le Lac,” which is at the top of the pass and has very little elevation gain. Within that loop, right on the flat lake, is a round loop dubbed “Espace debutant,” where you can ski in your ball gown, or so I thought, until Enrico told me that debutant just means beginner in French. 

Next, we did Le Stade and Le Golf loops which have a couple of steep downhill pitches, as well as some long easy downhill sections, great for double poling. After days of doing little arm exercise beyond lifting another forkful of pasta to my mouth, it felt great to flex a bit and also try to go faster than the downhill skiers on their route parallel to the cross-country trail. At a certain point, the cross-country trail merged with the downhill trail. We were all sweaty and thirsty at this point, so we stopped at a little outdoor café for some water. It was so warm in the sun that we sat outside without feeling the least bit chilled. We also discovered that we were now in Italy, having crossed the national boundary at some point on the ski trail.

The route back to France was a lot of uphill, and we were feeling the elevation. The Sassi ski train was a bit slower on this section of the trail. We got to go on a bridge over the downhill trail at one point, which reminded me of the Birkie bridge. 

After getting back to the start, Enrico and I did another short loop and the boys did another long loop, and then we were all tired and hungry for lunch, so we headed back to our apartment. Lunch was leftover polenta and vegetables and some soup. After a big post-ski coughing fest, we rested for awhile and started planning tomorrow’s ski.

There is no bad weather, only bad clothing choices

My friend, Kay Beckerman, recently asked me to repost my recommendations about clothing to wear while cross-country skiing, and I am happy to oblige.

Along with the maxim that there is no bad weather, only bad clothing choices, I would add that to be truly comfortable while out cross-country skiing, you do have to under-dress a bit and be willing to be uncomfortable for the first 5 minutes while you get your heart rate up and start producing heat internally. If you go out in a big parka that you feel cosy in while standing still and then start skiing, you will soon be sweating, and sweating=getting cold and miserable.

In Fargo, where we often have wind, it can be tricky to balance the wind protection you want to stay warm in the wind, with the breathability you need to expel excess heat when your body is working hard. Specialized ski clothes are expensive, and I have been a skier through many years of living below the poverty level, so I know there are workarounds that are less expensive. For example, clothing for winter bicycling is less expensive and does double duty for cycling (and using a bike for transportation instead of a car is one way I survived those lean years). I have also made a lot of my ski clothes myself with a serger, a roll of fleece and a roll of stretchy lycra.

Basically, dress in layers and don't wear cotton that gets wet and stays wet. Fabrics like polypropylene and wool that are breathable, wick moisture away from the body, and still insulate you even when wet are the best choices. When using wind protection, choose shells that have some panels that are breathable. Windblocking material in the front of a jacket and breathable material in the back works well.

That said, here is an example of  what I wore on a day when it was 18 below.

From top to bottom: a fleece hat (thicker than the hats I usually wear), earmuffs, and a neck gaiter; Three layers on top: a thin skintight Odlo baselayer, a fleece sweater, and an REI shell. Two layers on my legs: Odlo baselayer and Novara bike tights with a wind panel in the front. Smartwool socks, Alpina boots with thinsulate. I wore lobster mitts. If I were to stay out longer than the hour I was out, I would add overbooties and a liner to my mitts. Possibly a thicker layer under my bike pants would be helpful too.

For today, when it was 15 above, I swapped out the thick hat for a thinner one, and a thin shirt for the fleece. I stayed toasty for 2 hours. 

Blessed by a Bald Eagle

Last night I wasn't sure if I was going to make it back home to Fargo after spending the Thanksgiving holiday with my sister in Pennsylvania. I knew a winter storm was coming across the Plains, but as I prepared to fly out of the Philadelphia airport, it did not appear that my connecting flight in Chicago was delayed. However, after boarding, our plane did not move for 30 minutes due to lack of a captain. Now I was worried that I would miss my connecting flight in Chicago. About 30 of us were in danger of missing connecting flights, so other passengers allowed us to exit first. I ran to my gate, thinking I had about a 50/50 chance of making it before they closed the door. When I got to the gate, huffing and puffing, I found out that flight was delayed--hurray! I would make it! We boarded, but then this plane also did not take off. Just when I thought they were cancelling due to weather, the captain announced that they just had to sign off on some "maintenance paperwork," and we would be on our way--hurray! More waiting on the runway ensued. Again, I worried we would just head back to the gate. Then the captain announced, "We are cleared for take off. It will be a bumpy flight, so please keep your seatbelts on." We flew into the storm. Indeed, it was a bumpy flight. I had just started to fall asleep when, Bam! We landed hard on the runway in Fargo. It was midnight, and the wind was blowing hard, making the snow fly horizontally instead of falling vertically. Enrico expertly maneuvered our Prius through the snowy streets. I was glad to make it home, and fell asleep dreaming of skiing the next morning...

I woke up as it was getting light, and eagerly looked out the window--nice big drifts of snow and clearing skies! I had a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and an egg, brought Enrico a cup of coffee and prepared to go out for my first ski in 6 weeks. It was still windy as the storm clouds departed, but not too cold out--about 15 degrees F. I took the waxless touring skis out to break trail.

It was slow going with snow drifting up to mid-calf or higher in places. However, I was just happy to be out--nothing like cross-country skiing to recover from air travel. It was about 9am when I started, and I didn't see another person until I got to Lindenwood Park, where I saw someone out snowshoeing. As I got near the bridge that leads from Lindenwood to Gooseberry Park, I saw a large bird in the distance. From the way it flapped its wings, I thought it might be an eagle. Usually I would ski eagerly toward it to get a better look, but this time I just stayed still and watched as it tacked back and forth across the river, each time getting a bit closer. Yes, it was a bald eagle. I watched, entranced as it got closer and closer, until it flew right over my head. For a long second, it looked at me, and I looked at it. Then it tilted, flapped its wings and rode the wind again to the other side of the river. I watched it continue this way downriver, back and forth, gliding then flapping. Maybe looking for fish in the open water. I felt blessed by this eagle and continued on my way with an extra spring in my stride.

When I got into the woods, I came onto a spot where the floodwaters had not yet receded from the ski trail. I tried to remember what this spot looked like in summer, and stayed on the higher ground to avoid getting my skis wet.

Soon after that, I encountered another set of ski tracks. Glancing at my Apple watch, I saw that I had been skiing for an hour already--talk about slow going! I turned back, eager to enjoy a faster pace skiing back in my own tracks, and that was the case for awhile, but as I got to Ponte Park, it had been long enough since I passed that way that my ski tracks had already been filled in with snow by the unrelenting wind. The stretch from there to the water treatment plant was just as hard going coming back as it was going out.

The sun came out on my way back, and my tracks had already been filled in by the wind.

I extended my ski by breaking a little skijoring trail to enjoy with Noko later. I got back in at 11am, pleased that my fall workouts allowed me to be able to ski for 2 hours continuously, except, of course, a few moments to snap these photos.

I hope that the snow doesn't melt, and this is the beginning of continuous skiing for the whole winter.