DECEMBER 21, 2022 – The temperature on the dashboard of the car read 1F. Honestly, the air hadn’t felt that cold, except when I was skiing into the wind blowing across “Little Switzerland.” The car warmed up quickly, as did the icicles hanging off my face, then dripping and dropping onto my lap. However invigorating my 45-minute dose of winter (after 40 minutes of shoveling it) had been, I was grateful to have warm hearth and house nearby.
Two inches of downy snow had fallen already, with lots more on the way. Visibility was restricted to a few hundred meters, and for my first two laps around the circuit, I saw no other skiers. When I skied into the wind howling up the “Aletsch Glacier” (in actuality, the second fairway), which extends north from the summit of glitzy “St. Moritz” served (I pretend) by a heated tram (in reality, the second tee during golf season; “Mt. Como” in winter, served by a blistering rope tow), I easily imagined skiing up the real Aletsch Glacier between the Jungfrau and the Eiger in the Bernese Oberland of real Switzerland.
The “pretend” aspect of my location was enhanced by a large snow-making machine blasting its own blizzard into the real one. I stopped to laugh at this classic Minnesota scene, orchestrated, it seemed, to poke fun at winter. To complete the big tease, the machine spreading “the wealth” over the backside of Mt. Como was pointed . . . north. . To join this Minnesota one-upmanship, I skied off the track and through the artificial blizzard, much as a kid runs through the neighbor’s sprinkler left on during a rainstorm on a hot summer day.
Admittedly, after two laps around my circuit, I felt a touch of frost-nip on my face, and to keep my thumbs warm I had to remove them from their respective private rooms inside my mittens and crowd them into companionship with my other fingers. This inhibited poling and slowed my progress. The slower rate reduced generation of body heat, thus requiring a recall of my thumbs to active duty, which, of course, rendered them cold again. After a few cycles of this, I decided to conclude my outing with three laps.
I schussed the backside of “Eiger,” then turned off the track to make a short-cut to the section of track that leads up “Schilthorn.” Off in the distance, I saw another skier in a high-end, aerodynamic outfit, making nice, strong, even, powerful V-1 strides—way out of my current league. Having a lifelong aversion to people passing me, I avoided the annoyance of a clearly superior skier yelling “Track!” at me and waited for the skier to pass where I stood in my shortcut before I entered the track and resumed my version of V-1.
As the skier approached, I saw it was someone at least two generations younger. Being a non-grouchy old man, I conjured up a greeting laced with my brand of humor. As any comedian—publicly acclaimed or self-deluded—knows, timing is everything. Accordingly, I waited until the skier was two strides away before delivering the “zinger.” (Cont.)
(Remember to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.)
© 2022 by Eric Nilsson
2 Comments
I have been out on my skis this year too, though not a daily routine. I still manage to alternate short runs with skiing with emphasis on “short” but consider myself lucky to still do so.
My Mt. Eiger is the 9-hole Highland gold course which is regularly groomed and tracked, a series of loops with uphills and downhills, but none steep enough to be worthy of a nickname. But it’s close to home and therefore easy for me to get in regular rounds on skis. I was out Tuesday around Noon, 4 degrees Fahrenheit with a stiff NW breeze. Ran into a similar frozen finger problem as you, no matter what gloves I wear, my finders always get cold and take about 20 minutes before the increased blood flow (from my exertion I assume) finally make the numbness abate. I planned to just do a single loop but upon arriving back at the parking area I just felt so good and strong that I headed out for another.
I’m thinking now that whenever those our age (and admittedly I’m much older than you) feel that positive, it’s a great time to go for it!
Paul, we’re living in parallel universes–or should I say, “Alpine countries.” Or maybe Highland is “Little New Zealand,” being south of the “equator”–I94. Once key to keeping the digits warmer is to make sure your core temp is high by way of good, layered clothing at that level and, of course, cranking up your internal combustion machine. As for hands–I’ve long gotten past the “fashion statement” to be made by sleek x-c gloves. On exceptionally cold days, I resort to old-fashioned “choppers.” I’m lucky with the feet. I’m good with normal wool socks over cotton athletic socks. My biggest vulnerability seems to be the face–I hate wearing anything that fogs up my glasses/goggles, which often means frost-nip on the nose, which, in turn, is why you’ll often see me with my head down when I’m skiing into the wind. The worst thing are frozen eyelids, which make it difficult to navigate. In a Birkie Race, I experienced frozen eyeballs–as did a number of other skiers. Well, they weren’t exactly “frozen-frozen,” but that’s what the medical personnel were calling the phenomenon as we afflicted stumbled into the medical tent at the finish line. Today’s ambient temp is tolerable (I was out shoveling quite early), but the wind is wicked; might have to try skiing backwards today on the “Aletsch Glacier.” In any event, Paul, great to hear that you’re getting out there–long or short, fast or slow; doesn’t matter. The key is breaking free of creature comforts and experiencing the great outdoors in the heart of winter weather. — Eric
Comments are closed.