The Muscle

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It was 12 degrees when I left and the sun was blazing-low in the horizon at noon. A gorgeous day to go skiing at Kincaid Park. With 70 Km of cross-country ski trails Kincaid is almost twice the size of Point Defiance Park at 1,500 acres. In high school our ski team would practice there. Meaning I spent many hours in the woods goofing off.

As I set off and felt the muscles start to warm up and the blood begin to run, I felt vibrantly alive. What a wonderful thing snow does to the landscape, and the sun at a low angle only adds to the magic. As I crested a hill and looked south out of Anchorage a low fog bank covered Tunagain Arm with the Mountain hovering above.

Beginning to work the hilly trails it became evident that things had changed since I had last skied these trails. When I was a kid groomed ski trails where a skinny affair with two parallel tracks. Like this…

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When I training in High School we used a combination of the herringbone and the straight line to move forward dependant on the terrain. Like this…

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Alas, time has moved on without me and it appears from the lack of any straight tracks what so ever that skiing today is a matter of constant herringbone in motion.

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I have been gratified to learn that I still have my ski legs and I can do a pretty graceful herringbone. But it turns out that Alaskans have this muscle on the instep of their foot. This muscle, when properly conditioned allows one to continue the herringbone for more then a few yards. I, apparently, have lost that muscle, shriveled away and transformed into webbing between the toes.

So, feeling like my old man grumbling about how the old leather boots, wood skis, and metal bindings were good enough in my day I climbed the hills…

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As I went from the moderate trail to the advanced trail and my endurance waned I realized that the key to enjoying the rest of my ski was to make up for my lack of skill and endurance with patience.

Note: All of those who have wondered where my love of speed comes from; it comes from many hours of having skis strapped to my feet pointed down hill. It was a good friend to run into today.

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Comments

[Rob]

I'm envious!
I have only been to Anchorage once - back when I was in college at the University of Puget Sound and I was part of the cross country running team that ventured up to a competition at Kincaid Park. I can remember the rolling hills in the park pretty well, and I imagine it is pretty striking with the Alaska snows on the ground. In my mind's eye it seems like a perfect place for cross country skiing, just as it was a perfect place for cross country running in the mid-1980s when I was up there for a few days. Of course, as we wallow in the rain and waddle down the streets that have been converted into streambeds here in Tacoma this morning, the idea of snow on the ground and crisp temperatures in the 20s sounds pretty nice too!

[Kitty]

Wow
Sounds like you did the herringbone for awhile, anyway. Nothing to sneeze at - its pretty hard, especially for people with short legs (I'm referring to me, not you). Anyway, sounds fun!