Cross-country skiing is great winter exercise
Brian Baxter | Hagadone News Network | UPDATED 11 years, 10 months AGO
Slowly awakening, I noticed the sounds of the early-morning train seem muffled from my place near the Kootenai River. The running well water in my bathroom sink is a tad colder than usual. Sunday mornings are always special.
I realize how special this one is as I gaze out my kitchen window and welcome a fresh, new snowfall. It’s about time. I know that with the warmer temperatures lately, this several inches could melt off by noon, or at least be sticky. I dress in layers quickly, and head out to breakfast. It’s one of my favorite things to do in Libby.
The interiors of the local cafes genuinely reflect the cultures of the outside surrounding area. A sharp-featured red-faced young grandfather straps his grandson into the compact, new-wave collapsible nylon folding highchair. Smells of coffee and baked goods float between the taxidermy and mountain artworks.
Sounds of local accents and terms set the stage for deciphering the more nonfamiliar or tourist dialects as two young couples dressed in colorful nylon ski outfits talk excitedly about Turner Mountain.
Waitresses hustle about, dishes clacking, as the wind picks up outside and flags flap.
It’s a beautiful dilemma as to where to go on my morning cross-country ski tour. Should I hit Timberline or Flatiron Mountain up the Pipe? How about Bear Creek or Flower Creek. Maybe just go on up to a gated road and start into the forest. “It’s rough in the west,” smiling I think to myself.
Cross-country skiing originated in Fennoscandian countries in prehistoric times as a practical method of moving through an area and also hunting members of the ungulate, or moose, deer and caribou families for nutrition, clothing and tools. This style of skiing has been used by explorers as a means of locomotion. I actually went to high school with a kid named Friend Amundsen, who was an exceptional athlete and rumored to be a distant relative of that famous explorer Roald Amundsen. Roald led a party who’s mastery of icebound ships, skis and sled dogs ensured rapid and fairly trouble-free travel. They arrived at the South Pole on Dec. 14, 1911, five weeks ahead of Robert Falcon Scott’s group, which they later discovered had perished on their return journey.
Nordic armies have ski-trained infantry for winter operations and history notes this additional fluid mobility enabled the Finnish army in small groups to help defeat larger Russian armies. In more ancient combative contests, Finns and Karelians were armed with crossbows and ski poles which had a spearhead on the other tip. In Northwestern Montana, we have a few very talented ladies who train Karelian dogs to haze and repel grizzly bears from inhabited areas to prevent any negative incidents. I believe the 10th Mountain Division, which had several Montana guys who operated in the Italian Alps during World War II, also had ski-trained troops that were extremely light, mobile and effective. As part of the Nordic skiing family, I am hoping that this winter’s Olympics might include contests in ski-orienteering and the biathlon event that combines skiing and rifle marksmanship.
Cross-country skiing is a great workout and one winter outdoor activity that utilizes all muscle groups. My ski tours are pretty mellow these days. I like to meander along, look at tracks and let the snowflakes tickle my nose. But I do remember a time up on Flatiron many years ago that with the sweet stupidity of ill-perceived immortality, I attempted an Olympic event myself. There was about four feet of nice powder, and when challenged, I took a shot at a 360-degree flip. Well, I dang near had her done, when my right ski came loose from the binding and soared away over a rocky outcrop. I remember catching my breath and burrowing out of the deep snow to the muffled sound of invigorating laughter from my friends, to which I eventually joined in. They said I looked like a confused ermine, popping up not knowing which direction to look.
Take your sweetheart on a cross-country ski tour. It’s great exercise and may be good for a few laughs, too.
(Brian Baxter is an outdoorsman who writes a column for The Western News.)
ARTICLES BY BRIAN BAXTER
Voices in the Wilderness: Forest Choir
After the snowfall, Old Man Winter rests. He is warm now, with his long white hair flowing down his shoulders. After conjuring up infinite patterns of snow flakes, each one unique, and gently laying down the soft blanket of albescence, he tucks his chin into his full beard and begins to dream. In the mountains, the creatures of the earth begin to stir after the quietness of the last flake falling has been fully appreciated.
The Camaraderie of Hunters
Although the rather unexpected warmer temperatures and lack of snow at low- to mid-elevations during most of our recent hunting season did not help much, many hunters had a great season. And seasons are measured in a variety of ways, depending on each individual hunter.
Please thank our tireless firefighters
In the pitch dark, with layers of smoke blocking out the moon and stars, a lone driver takes off on a mission. He meanders his pickup through a maze of old logging roads that would trap a man easily. He feels a slight adrenaline rush of the fight or flight syndrome as he encounters ridiculously steep drop offs at every switchback. It’s a long, treacherous drive, and as he approaches an alder tunnel he fears he has missed his drop point. There are no turnouts on the hill where the Bay Horse fire is active. The old road warrior continues through the brushed in access road in hopes of finding the initial attack team that is spike camped out for the night. Busting through the one last bottleneck of vegetation, the wheel man arrives at the bivouacked squad’s location. Justin Figgins’s exhausted, black-faced crew are glad to see the driver, who has hot meals, Gatorade and other goodies, as well as humorous comments for the men and women of this squad.