As I try to explain marathon cross-country ski racing to friends and family, I often tell them, just for kicks, the speed at which elite racers can finish the American Birkebeiner. They are usually incredulous, especially if they’ve actually done a smattering of Nordic skiing themselves.

When I read that Fabio Santus, of Italy, set a new record in the Men’s Birkie Freestyle division this year – 1 hour, 56 minutes, 58.6 seconds – my jaw dropped. Think about it: 50K in under two hours. For those of us old farts who have been programmed for more than a half century to think in terms English rather than metric, 50K equals 31 miles. That means an average speed for Santus of almost 16 mph. For a lot of folks, that would be a pretty good clip on a bicycle.

I tried the freestyle, aka skating, technique myself for a few years. But since I never was able to develop good technique, I returned to the traditional diagonal stride, aka classic, method.

I have not skated the Birkie since sometime in the mid-1990s. On that final freestyle ski, I developed severe pain in my left knee and could not put any lateral strain on it without wanting to scream. With no kick wax, I had to double pole in the tracks on all flats and slight rises, and herringbone up the steeper hills. Never have I “enjoyed” a better upper body workout.

This past February 25, I rode up to the Hayward-Cable area with my friend John Lovaas, whom I met about 20 years ago during the peak of my ultramarathon cycling days. Once again we stayed in a comfortable cabin at Hummingbird Haven, just outside Cable. Even though Lovaas is a faster skier, he was placed in Wave 7, one behind me, for the big race. We theorized this was due either to his registering later than normal or his having to skip last year’s Birkie due to illness.

My race this year

The all-time sunniest Birkie I can recall made for a beautiful day. The downside was that the temperature, as I’ve been told, got up to 38 – eight degrees higher than the forecast. In many places the snow was pretty sticky, so my fellow sloggers and I did not get the usual amount of glide, meaning there was less coasting up the first part of each hill and more climbing.

The only time I’ve suffered a Birkie injury requiring medical attention was in 2006 when I took a bad high-speed fall and drove my left arm up into my shoulder. An MRI showed I’d cracked my humerus and damaged my rotator cuff. I escaped serious injury again this year. I fell on a downhill sharp right turn. So many skiers had been there before me that the surface was as smooth as a pool table from all the scraping. I weighted my left ski all I could and held it at a sharp 45-degree angle to the icy snow, but it just skimmed across the surface. I hit a little ridge or something and did an instant belly-flop. Other than a small strawberry on my right elbow, I have no souvenirs of that spill.

Founders, Birchleggers

Shuffling along the Birkie Trail sometime later, I noticed a lady wearing a bib color I’d never seen. I struck up a conversation. We back-of-the-packers often do this. It helps to pass the time. She said her name was Jackie. When asked how many Birkies she’d done, Jackie told me this was her 34th, which meant she’d skied all but three of them. I later discovered that when Jackie Lindskoog skied the very first American Birkebeiner back in 1973, women were neither invited nor allowed to participate. She skied it anyway. The male-dominated Birkie organization eventually saw the error of their ways and gave Lindskoog credit for that first Birkie. They probably figured she’d keep skiing it with or without their blessing. And indeed she kept coming back.

That special bib I mentioned marked Lindskoog as a Birkie “founder.”

About half an hour after I’d crossed the finish line on Hayward’s Main Street, I heard someone from the local community radio station, WOJB, interviewing Lindskoog. On Sunday, reading a magazine article, I found that Lindskoog herself also hosts a Friday show on WOJB.

A yellow school bus returned me to Telemark Lodge, where the race had begun that morning. I chatted a bit with a fellow passenger sitting behind me. I mentioned having met one of the founders. He said he knew her and that she was a good friend. Then his wife pointed out that her husband was a founder, too. I’d been talking with John Kotar, the legend, himself. Kotar has skied all 37 Birkies.

His name also rang a bell as organizer of the Birchleggings Club for those who ski 20 or more Birkies. Their records showed the 2010 Birkie was my 20th, when in fact it was my 19th. I wanted to wear that coveted purple ski bib as much as anyone, but I wanted to earn it. Everything got straightened out, and I am now looking forward to joining the ranks of all those other veteran skiers in 2011. Obviously, this has been a goal of mine for a long, long time.

Reunited

I found Lovaas seated in front of the big fireplace in the lobby of the Telemark Resort, just as we had arranged. (It’s worth pointing out he had time to finish the race, take a bus to his car and get cleaned up at the cabin before driving to Telemark to meet me.) We sat and listened for awhile to an excellent folk band. Then back to the cabin and off to Lakewoods Resort for an absolutely scrumptious meal. While there I bumped into another old friend of mine, Tom Bulger. He and I drove up to the Birkie together several times in the ‘90s when I lived in Indiana as he still does.

As Lovaas and I packed up Sunday morning, my substandard pre-Birkie training caused certain muscles, especially those in my back and groin, to start talking. Nonetheless, I felt a sense of accomplishment, having passed my yearly Northwoods “fitness test.”

My Birkie time this year was 7:09:49, which was better than four guys in my age group. Woo-hoo! Lovaas, by the way, bested my time by almost exactly one hour. Of course, at 47, he’s a young pup. Before I think about defeating someone like him, I should try to move up a bit in my own age group.

Yet, I reached the goal I set for myself every year, which is to finish officially. Except for in 2000 when the race had to be canceled due to high temperatures and rain, I have skied and finished every single Birkie I’ve signed up for.

Perhaps next year I will train a bit better and finish faster. As much as I enjoy skiing the Birkie, I could certainly handle being out on the course for a little less time. That would allow more time for post-race recovery beverages at the Moccasin or Angler bars in Hayward, anyway.

“Pirate Bob” Friend, of Wauconda, Illinois, operates his own sign business when he’s not trying to keep his skis under his knees.

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