The big storm arrived a couple of days ahead of the start of the Massachusetts vacation week, so the touring center had time to groom the trails several times before the crowds needed them. Deep snow meant it was time to use good skis.
Fast classical skiing requires a lot more finesse than a slow shuffle on touring skis. Fast skis have a stiffer camber, requiring better timing and balance in order to get any grip. It can be very frustrating, and drives many skiers to wax further forward or give up altogether.
Acting on a couple of tips from Peter the Great, I shortened up the wax and went out to practice.
Tip number one: when you kick forward with one ski, imagine kicking a tennis ball straight down the track in front of you. You have to keep your weight fully on one foot to kick with the other one. Imagining the ball keeps you pushing your foot forward, rather than kicking down and back with the weighted leg.
The first tip wasn't a new one for me, but when I combined it with the second one the results were remarkable. It was a new way to get to a precision I had felt before, but could not always produce on demand.
Tip number two: throw your hand forward as you throw your opposite foot forward. Arms and legs swing on alternate sides, just as they do when you walk or run, but the timing and direction matter more when you are balancing on a long, skinny stick sliding down a slippery track. Make sure the arm swings straight forward. Follow a natural arc almost like bowling, with your pole trailing. The arm swings up with a slight bend. The pole stays angled with the tip back. Peter tells students to imagine tossing a horseshoe.
Throwing the hand seems to make the leading foot come forward automatically. The foot touches down slightly forward of the knee. It's a long step. It even works on climbs. Because the foot leads, the body following it plants the wax firmly on the way over the top. In the dynamic process of skiing, one stride flows into the next. For fast touring, it's a relaxed, easy lope. Let the racers gasp and puke. Just doing the stride correctly, over and over, you'll cover a lot of ground faster than you thought you could. You can also make a colder wax work, making your glide even better. It does not take more effort, more strength. It just takes timing.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Sounds Like Instant Winter
A major storm seems to be headed this way. Predicted totals would be impressive in any year, not just one in which the Nordic areas have been living on a starvation diet.
As always, I'll believe it when I'm shoveling it -- or, in this case, driving in it. It will squat squarely on the first day of my work week, and day one of the twelve-day marathon of Massachusetts Vacation Week.
Two feet of fluff will lure skiers into the back-country, where the base is thin and avalanche hazard will be high. With very cold air in place, the snow will have little density. Once it settles, the initial 18 to 24 inches could quickly become 12 to 18. Fortunately, what fell in the last storm was also light and dry, so the layers will merge securely for the most part. I have not kept tabs on high elevations, so I don't know what crust layers might lurk there. Thin cover will likely be more of an issue than shearing between layers over an ice crust. And with the storm on a Wednesday, the steep slopes will have sloughed by Saturday.
In past winters we have seen the storm track shift so that the second half buried us. By April we had long ago forgotten what a disappointment January had been. But we've also seen one-storm winters, in which we waited and waited for that one big payoff and then clanked through the rocks under two feet of dust when we tried to wail on it.
On the groomies at Nordic centers the news is all good. The big machines may flatten two feet of pow' into eight inches of solid cover on the trail, but that's eight more than we had before.
Cold weather is predicted to continue through the week. After that, from a commercial standpoint, the weather doesn't really matter. But for real skiers, let's hope March brings what the rest of the season could not. And then it's on to kayaking and biking, unless you're really obsessed. But the really obsessed don't read me.
As always, I'll believe it when I'm shoveling it -- or, in this case, driving in it. It will squat squarely on the first day of my work week, and day one of the twelve-day marathon of Massachusetts Vacation Week.
Two feet of fluff will lure skiers into the back-country, where the base is thin and avalanche hazard will be high. With very cold air in place, the snow will have little density. Once it settles, the initial 18 to 24 inches could quickly become 12 to 18. Fortunately, what fell in the last storm was also light and dry, so the layers will merge securely for the most part. I have not kept tabs on high elevations, so I don't know what crust layers might lurk there. Thin cover will likely be more of an issue than shearing between layers over an ice crust. And with the storm on a Wednesday, the steep slopes will have sloughed by Saturday.
In past winters we have seen the storm track shift so that the second half buried us. By April we had long ago forgotten what a disappointment January had been. But we've also seen one-storm winters, in which we waited and waited for that one big payoff and then clanked through the rocks under two feet of dust when we tried to wail on it.
On the groomies at Nordic centers the news is all good. The big machines may flatten two feet of pow' into eight inches of solid cover on the trail, but that's eight more than we had before.
Cold weather is predicted to continue through the week. After that, from a commercial standpoint, the weather doesn't really matter. But for real skiers, let's hope March brings what the rest of the season could not. And then it's on to kayaking and biking, unless you're really obsessed. But the really obsessed don't read me.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
It's Like Cat Food
Nordic skiers are a finicky bunch. Laying out wax for them is like throwing down canned food for the cats. They're never grateful.
We got all these requests for Start Green glide wax. Start Green. Start Green. It's legendary. Get it!
The Start rep didn't want to sell us just a truckload of the legendary Green glide wax. And we naively figured if the Green had such a following, skiers like the other colors, too.
Five years later, we're still trying to get rid of the other items from the Start line, some of them perfectly nice kick and glide waxes. They just don't have a fan club.
Start and Rex both have grip tape, a miracle product that replaces conventional kick wax. Rex's is particularly popular, because the dispenser spits out a double strip, to do the whole kick zone in one pass. Do people ask for anything else in the Rex line? Heck no. Fortunately, the Rex rep doesn't mind feeding us just the tape...for now.
A skier asked today whether we did anything with the Rode line. I said we didn't. I tried to soften it with a little humorous apology for our boring Swix line, but the skier was already storming out, snapping over his shoulder, "Rode Multi-grade Purple! The only kick wax you'll ever need!"
Indeed. Then why does Rode offer a fat catalog full of all these other kick products no one will need?
I'm sure every one of these legendary products is just excellent. I promise I'll try them once I've used up all the leftover cat food on our wax rack. Someone's got to ski it.
We got all these requests for Start Green glide wax. Start Green. Start Green. It's legendary. Get it!
The Start rep didn't want to sell us just a truckload of the legendary Green glide wax. And we naively figured if the Green had such a following, skiers like the other colors, too.
Five years later, we're still trying to get rid of the other items from the Start line, some of them perfectly nice kick and glide waxes. They just don't have a fan club.
Start and Rex both have grip tape, a miracle product that replaces conventional kick wax. Rex's is particularly popular, because the dispenser spits out a double strip, to do the whole kick zone in one pass. Do people ask for anything else in the Rex line? Heck no. Fortunately, the Rex rep doesn't mind feeding us just the tape...for now.
A skier asked today whether we did anything with the Rode line. I said we didn't. I tried to soften it with a little humorous apology for our boring Swix line, but the skier was already storming out, snapping over his shoulder, "Rode Multi-grade Purple! The only kick wax you'll ever need!"
Indeed. Then why does Rode offer a fat catalog full of all these other kick products no one will need?
I'm sure every one of these legendary products is just excellent. I promise I'll try them once I've used up all the leftover cat food on our wax rack. Someone's got to ski it.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
"I Hate Classical"
A woman handed me her skating skis.
"These need some base work," she said. "They need a good waxing. I can't put it off."
"We can fix that," I said. "Do you want them right away?"
"No, I don't want to rush you. But it means I'll have to do classical today. I hate classical."
With a few inches of fresh snow, the classical was great. The skating was less than ideal.
"Why hate classical?" I asked.
"After skating, being able to go so fast so easily, it's just horribly frustrating," she said.
"Yeah, but with the fresh snow today, classical will be much better than skating. Just wax long, and do that trick where you put a layer of the next colder wax over your layers of blue kick wax. That's working really well today. Just gear your mind down. It's all part of the dance on snow."
"You're right." She smiled. "That's the attitude I need."
Off she went.
Your own demands and expectations often create the difference between a perfectly enjoyable outing and a disappointing one.
Skating is great. I love the surge of power when the timing is just right. I love the leap of a freely-gliding ski, waxed to perfection. I love the constant subtle shifts of angle and poling. But I hate to plod through soft snow in a V-stance. I hate the drag of a slow skating ski when anything inhibits the glide. Dirty snow, deep new snow or really slushy old snow turn skating into a waddle.
Sometimes classical is faster than skating. Certainly when fluffy new snow has only been groomed one day, it is easier to wax long and kick lightly to fly forward on the classical tracks. Out on the skate lane, your angled edges just dig in. Unless you pole like a monster in a narrow V2, you can't help gouging deeply into snow that really needs another day and some more passes with the big machine to set it up.
Another writer compared classical to a fixed-gear bicycle and skating to a multi-speed. This seems true at first glance. You can stride faster or slower in classical, but you can't make changes as significant as from Diagonal V to V1 to V2, and all their variations. But the tempo changes in classical almost qualify as multiple gears. A cyclist on a fixed gear will ride uphill at a slower tempo than on the flats, and a much faster one on a descent. A classical skier goes the opposite way. Uphill, stride shortens and tempo speeds up to put the least stress on each individual moment of grip.
Double poling and double poling with a kick count as separate gears. Fit skiers can use these techniques over a greater range of terrain than recreational tourists will. So the classical skier has about four gears, compared to about seven for a skater. How you choose to use them is up to you.
"These need some base work," she said. "They need a good waxing. I can't put it off."
"We can fix that," I said. "Do you want them right away?"
"No, I don't want to rush you. But it means I'll have to do classical today. I hate classical."
With a few inches of fresh snow, the classical was great. The skating was less than ideal.
"Why hate classical?" I asked.
"After skating, being able to go so fast so easily, it's just horribly frustrating," she said.
"Yeah, but with the fresh snow today, classical will be much better than skating. Just wax long, and do that trick where you put a layer of the next colder wax over your layers of blue kick wax. That's working really well today. Just gear your mind down. It's all part of the dance on snow."
"You're right." She smiled. "That's the attitude I need."
Off she went.
Your own demands and expectations often create the difference between a perfectly enjoyable outing and a disappointing one.
Skating is great. I love the surge of power when the timing is just right. I love the leap of a freely-gliding ski, waxed to perfection. I love the constant subtle shifts of angle and poling. But I hate to plod through soft snow in a V-stance. I hate the drag of a slow skating ski when anything inhibits the glide. Dirty snow, deep new snow or really slushy old snow turn skating into a waddle.
Sometimes classical is faster than skating. Certainly when fluffy new snow has only been groomed one day, it is easier to wax long and kick lightly to fly forward on the classical tracks. Out on the skate lane, your angled edges just dig in. Unless you pole like a monster in a narrow V2, you can't help gouging deeply into snow that really needs another day and some more passes with the big machine to set it up.
Another writer compared classical to a fixed-gear bicycle and skating to a multi-speed. This seems true at first glance. You can stride faster or slower in classical, but you can't make changes as significant as from Diagonal V to V1 to V2, and all their variations. But the tempo changes in classical almost qualify as multiple gears. A cyclist on a fixed gear will ride uphill at a slower tempo than on the flats, and a much faster one on a descent. A classical skier goes the opposite way. Uphill, stride shortens and tempo speeds up to put the least stress on each individual moment of grip.
Double poling and double poling with a kick count as separate gears. Fit skiers can use these techniques over a greater range of terrain than recreational tourists will. So the classical skier has about four gears, compared to about seven for a skater. How you choose to use them is up to you.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Fast and Thin
Less experienced skiers will often slide along in a comfortable, evenly-weighted stance, waiting for something to happen before they respond. While this may seem like a good strategy, you need to take a more dynamic approach when sliding over variable snow.
Don't wait for something to happen. Make it happen.
When the snow is fast and the cover is thin, you need to evaluate it all the time. Obviously you don't want to ski something steep and rough. But some parts of the lower-angled slopes you might choose will still have short, steeper drops within them. To negotiate these, you may not be able to maintain a wedge or snowplow position, because the trail is narrow or obstacles stick up to catch your skis. In that case, step from ski to ski, angling each ski inward before you transfer weight to it. Once you have weighted the ski, bring the other ski over parallel to it. If you start this sequence before you have accelerated to a speed that bothers you, the move will be easy and it will automatically control your speed for you.
Practice on a slope with no obstacles, so you can feel how it works without having to worry about navigation through hazards.
This stepping technique is the basis of jump turns on steeper terrain at higher speeds. As you become more comfortable with it you will find yourself doing it at faster speeds. The step and jump turns will evolve by themselves if you let yourself explore progressively steeper terrain. If you feel anxious, scale back to easier ground for a while. Just keep practicing, and don't let anyone force you into a dangerous or scary situation. Often the only thing that keeps us from mastering a skill is our own arbitrary timetable for the learning curve, or the pressure put on us by others to get "up to speed."
Don't wait for something to happen. Make it happen.
When the snow is fast and the cover is thin, you need to evaluate it all the time. Obviously you don't want to ski something steep and rough. But some parts of the lower-angled slopes you might choose will still have short, steeper drops within them. To negotiate these, you may not be able to maintain a wedge or snowplow position, because the trail is narrow or obstacles stick up to catch your skis. In that case, step from ski to ski, angling each ski inward before you transfer weight to it. Once you have weighted the ski, bring the other ski over parallel to it. If you start this sequence before you have accelerated to a speed that bothers you, the move will be easy and it will automatically control your speed for you.
Practice on a slope with no obstacles, so you can feel how it works without having to worry about navigation through hazards.
This stepping technique is the basis of jump turns on steeper terrain at higher speeds. As you become more comfortable with it you will find yourself doing it at faster speeds. The step and jump turns will evolve by themselves if you let yourself explore progressively steeper terrain. If you feel anxious, scale back to easier ground for a while. Just keep practicing, and don't let anyone force you into a dangerous or scary situation. Often the only thing that keeps us from mastering a skill is our own arbitrary timetable for the learning curve, or the pressure put on us by others to get "up to speed."
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Ski for Light
Several hundred skiers have been here all week. They found unacceptable conditions at their intended venue, so they shifted here to Jackson at the last minute. After the last minute, in fact, because they made the decision when they drove by and saw the trail conditions en route to their original destination.
The Ski for Light program serves skiers with visual and mobility impairments. The group includes skiers on sit-skis, double poling ferociously, and skiers who can't see, skiing with guides.
Right away one has to be impressed with the mere idea of managing these challenges to ski cross-country. But yesterday I really started to think about the relationship between a blind skier and a guide.
The temperature was zero (Fahrenheit). There was a breeze, though not the hard winds we'd been told to expect. Trail conditions varied between grabby, cold, granular snow and occasional patches of sheer ice. With overnight temperatures below zero and a high that never surpassed four degrees, nothing was soft.
Because of the thin snow cover, lots of little hazards stuck up through it. As I skied I was constantly making the little automatic adjustments you learn to make in response to each little micro-change in conditions. At that point I realized that the guides for the blind were skiing this stuff and describing it quickly and clearly enough to allow a person who cannot see to negotiate the same terrain right near them. The guide can never ski too far in front for the other skier to hear the description.
Granted a partnership like that probably won't ski those conditions as fast as I was. But I couldn't have described it in real time at half the speed I was doing.
Later in the day we did some glide waxing for sit-skiers. I noticed that some of the skis had two sets of bindings on each ski, while others had only one. I asked one of the skiers about this. He told me that the experienced sit-skiers can have what is effectively a free heel, so they can lunge forward harder onto their poles at speed without ploughing the tips into the track. It makes the skis trickier to control on descents, which are already tricky enough, but it's the choice they make for more speed and power when they are propelling themselves.
Wherever you sit or stand, keep pushing to see if the limits are where you thought they were.
The Ski for Light program serves skiers with visual and mobility impairments. The group includes skiers on sit-skis, double poling ferociously, and skiers who can't see, skiing with guides.
Right away one has to be impressed with the mere idea of managing these challenges to ski cross-country. But yesterday I really started to think about the relationship between a blind skier and a guide.
The temperature was zero (Fahrenheit). There was a breeze, though not the hard winds we'd been told to expect. Trail conditions varied between grabby, cold, granular snow and occasional patches of sheer ice. With overnight temperatures below zero and a high that never surpassed four degrees, nothing was soft.
Because of the thin snow cover, lots of little hazards stuck up through it. As I skied I was constantly making the little automatic adjustments you learn to make in response to each little micro-change in conditions. At that point I realized that the guides for the blind were skiing this stuff and describing it quickly and clearly enough to allow a person who cannot see to negotiate the same terrain right near them. The guide can never ski too far in front for the other skier to hear the description.
Granted a partnership like that probably won't ski those conditions as fast as I was. But I couldn't have described it in real time at half the speed I was doing.
Later in the day we did some glide waxing for sit-skiers. I noticed that some of the skis had two sets of bindings on each ski, while others had only one. I asked one of the skiers about this. He told me that the experienced sit-skiers can have what is effectively a free heel, so they can lunge forward harder onto their poles at speed without ploughing the tips into the track. It makes the skis trickier to control on descents, which are already tricky enough, but it's the choice they make for more speed and power when they are propelling themselves.
Wherever you sit or stand, keep pushing to see if the limits are where you thought they were.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
The Woods, not so Good
On a scouting trip up the hill behind the house, Laurie and I found somewhat good sliding on the level bits, with one or two inches of fluff over the crusted two or three inches on the ground before last night's little contribution.
Climbing up the steeper, wooded rise at the back of our land, we found the snow too thin over many of the obstacles to give us reliable purchase.
I'll try a couple of jump turns on anything, but nothing was safe on this stuff. If I skied smoothly and tried to steer the turns, the skis would bite into the crust or catch snags under the thin cover and refuse to come around. If I put enough torque into them, they might break loose abruptly from whatever held them, and snap across to a new angle which might or might not be the one I had intended.
Jumping worked only slightly better. With long skis in tight spaces, I jump sequentially, one-TWO, setting the rear ski at a wide angle, tip nestled against the front ski. Ideally, as the skis slide forward I can bring the rear ski closer to parallel, though still trailing the front one, then slide it forward as I rotate to launch the next jump. With grabby crust and snags, the rear ski tends to stay in the wide angle and won't slide up alongside the front one. I get stuck in an ugly stem. A few times I nailed the perfect angle to land the jump and set up the next one, but it didn't seem to be worth the trouble. We skied back down to our woodsy trails for a few more minutes.
Over the next three weeks, Laurie decreed, we should have a 12-inch storm each week. Tuesdays, Wednesdays or Thursdays would be convenient. That would also get the snow down and give the ski areas a chance to groom in time for the weekends. And those midweek days wouldn't interfere with people traveling to the ski areas on Fridays.
Shouldn't we be in charge of the weather? We have a workable plan here.
Climbing up the steeper, wooded rise at the back of our land, we found the snow too thin over many of the obstacles to give us reliable purchase.
I'll try a couple of jump turns on anything, but nothing was safe on this stuff. If I skied smoothly and tried to steer the turns, the skis would bite into the crust or catch snags under the thin cover and refuse to come around. If I put enough torque into them, they might break loose abruptly from whatever held them, and snap across to a new angle which might or might not be the one I had intended.
Jumping worked only slightly better. With long skis in tight spaces, I jump sequentially, one-TWO, setting the rear ski at a wide angle, tip nestled against the front ski. Ideally, as the skis slide forward I can bring the rear ski closer to parallel, though still trailing the front one, then slide it forward as I rotate to launch the next jump. With grabby crust and snags, the rear ski tends to stay in the wide angle and won't slide up alongside the front one. I get stuck in an ugly stem. A few times I nailed the perfect angle to land the jump and set up the next one, but it didn't seem to be worth the trouble. We skied back down to our woodsy trails for a few more minutes.
Over the next three weeks, Laurie decreed, we should have a 12-inch storm each week. Tuesdays, Wednesdays or Thursdays would be convenient. That would also get the snow down and give the ski areas a chance to groom in time for the weekends. And those midweek days wouldn't interfere with people traveling to the ski areas on Fridays.
Shouldn't we be in charge of the weather? We have a workable plan here.
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