birkie bound

Since 1981, my Dad has been travelling to American Birkebeiner cross-country ski race. Starting in the small northern Wisconsin town of Cable, the race travels over 51 km of hilly, wooded terrain to Hayward, WI. The race commemorates the 51 km cross-country ski journey two hearty men took hundreds of years ago in Norway to save the life of a young heir to the Norweigen throne from the murderous intentions of other members of the King's court. The race is apart of several major international ski race series and this year there were 9,000 some skiers from around the world racing through the north woods.

And for the first time in my life, I was one of them.

Although I still really liked the idea of X-C skiing, I hadn't actually gone since early in my high school years. However, this year was special - it was my Dad's 20th Birkebeiner. When someone completes 20 Birkebeiners they become a member of the prestigious Birch Leggings society (named for the leggings worn hundreds of years ago). It's quite a feat and it carries some weight in X-C circles, so I went up to commemorate my Dad's 20th Birkie by skiing one of my own.

I skied twice before the race. I went about 10 km each time because the skiis I was borrowing were too big for me and didn't work very well. Unfortunately I was stuck with these skiis for the race so I signed up for the 26 km half-way race, the Korteloppet.

The night before the race we hunkered down in our cabin to wax our skiis, debating what wax to match to the snow granule shape, moisture content, and temperture range of the following day. OUr educated guesses must have been dead-on because at the start line the next morning I knew my skiis were ready to go, gripping and sliding on the snow perfectly. It was about 10 degrees but with bluebird skies and bright sun - a pefect day. I knew instantly that I was not going to stop at the halfway mark - I was going all the way.

So, after 9 km I skipped the turn for the Korte and kept on my way to completing my first Birkie. I caught up with my Dad, who was surprised to see me, at the 30 km mark and we skied the last 21 km together, right up the main drag of Hayward past the cheering throngs of small town residents and skiers from all over. My time was not counted in the results but I did receive the medal that every first year skier receives at the finish. We finished in 5 and a half hours - more than three hours behind the Italian winner.

It's safe to say I got Birkie fever. Now I just have 19 more to go.

www.birkie.com