The Power of One

At the beginning of February 1999 I flew from hot summer in Melbourne Australia, to cold and wintry Minneapolis.
My intention was to compete in American Vasaloppet in Mora, Minnesota. 

The winter was poor in snow but I managed to have decent skiing in few parks in Minneapolis.
 On Thursday, 3 days before the race, I heard on the radio, that the race has been cancelled due to the lack of snow. 

It was a shock!
Next morning I rang the race office. They confirmed the bad news - sorry, the race is cancelled.
 - That's impossible! I came here all the way from Australia! It cannot be!
 - We are very sorry, but it is cancelled.
 - But there is quite good snow in parks in Minneapolis... 
-  We also have good snow in the forest. But the race is run in the open area and there is no snow there.
- So shift it to the forest!
 - That's impossible, we have around 4,000 participants, we cannot squeeze them on narrow tracks. Anyway, the decision is FINAL, there is NO RACE!
 I tried the last chance - please connect me with the club secretary.
I had Valerie Brown at the other end of the wire and I laid down my proposal:
I understand that you are unable to run the regular race. But on the other hand there is still quite good snow in the forest. And on another hand, I came here all the long way from Australia.
Why not to put these two hands together and let me do a solo race in the forest?
There was a moment of silence and then ....come to Mora, we'll see what we can do for you. I could hear smile in Valerie's Brown voice.
I came to Mora on Saturday morning.
The big red Dalarna Horse reminded me my race in Sweden 3 years earlier.

I went directly to the race office.
It was the saddest place in the world. Thousands of race bags and bunches of medals for finishers.
I took one of them in my hand.... Valentine Day..
Yes, of course! It will be Valentine Day tomorrow! A heart, two skiers inside, Love to ski .

- What are you going to do with them?
- They all will be scrapped.
- O, no! You must let me to race for this medal!

 We studied maps of ski trails in the forest. Valerie showed me ones where the snow should be OK.
I did simple arithmetic...
- Valerie, so if I will ski around these loops until I clock over 58 km, will you give me such a medal?
- Find his racing bag - she said.

9 o'clock Sunday morning, blue skies, light frost, no wind.
In the Log Cabin I left a bag with warm clothes and some food and drinks.
I put on my red racing suit with kangaroos on the back and on the leg. I put on my race number 503...

 START!!! 

For a long time I was the only person on the trails.
Later some people arrived, whole families for a relaxing session of skiing in the sun.
Some of them were quite shocked when out of sudden a crazy racer appeared...
 - Go away from the track - shouted parents to the children - thousand skiers will be here in a moment!
 - But they said , that the race is cancelled.
I left them in such puzzled state and skied on and on...
 5 times around The Point Trail, 4 times Beaver Dam Trail and every possible trail between and around. Eventually my log showed more than 60 km, it was almost 3 pm.
I skied back to the Log Cabin where some local ski club members waited for me with the medal of my dreams. 

Back from home, I wrote a detailed report of my effort, it showed almost 65km.
What a surprise it was when few weeks later I received mail from Valerie Brown.
She sent me a special diploma...

... and another medal.

Valerie explained that some of Love to Ski medals have been given to senior club members and race sponsors so she saved for me something special...

... and there is only ONE such medal in the world!

When I am... Power of One

At the beginning of February 1999 I flew from hot summer in Melbourne Australia, to cold and wintry Minneapolis. My intention was to compete in American Vasaloppet in Mora, Minnesota. The winter was poor in snow but I managed to have decent skiing in few parks in Minneapolis. 

On Thursday, 3 days before the race, I heard on the radio, that the race has been cancelled due to the lack of snow. It was a shock! Next morning I rang the race office. They confirmed the bad news - sorry, the race is cancelled.

- That's impossible! I came here all the way from Australia! It cannot be!
- We are very sorry, but it is cancelled.
- But there is quite good snow in parks in Minneapolis...
- We also have good snow in the forest. But the race is run in the open area and there is no snow there.
- So shift it to the forest!
- That's impossible, we have around 4,000 participants, we cannot squeeze them on narrow tracks. Anyway, the decision is FINAL, there is NO RACE!

I tried the last chance - please connect me with the club secretary. I had Valerie Brown at the other end of the wire and I laid down my proposal: 

I understand that you are unable to run the regular race. But on the other hand there is still quite good snow in the forest. And on another hand, I came here all the long way from Australia. Why not to put these two hands together and let me do a solo race in the forest?
There was a moment of silence and then ... come to Mora, we'll see what we can do for you. I heard smile in Valerie's Brown voice. 

I came to Mora on Saturday morning. It was sunny, cold and snowless. The big, red Dalarna Horse reminded me my race in Sweden 3 years earlier....

I went directly to the race office. It was the saddest place in the world. Thousands of race bags and bunches of medals for finishers. I took one of them in my hand.... Valentine Day.. Yes, of course! It will be Valentine Day tomorrow! A heart, two skiers inside, Love to ski...

- What are you going to do with them?
- They all will be scrapped.
- O, no! You must let me to race for this medal!

We studied maps of ski trails in the forest. Valerie showed me ones where the snow should be OK. I did simple arithmetic...

- Valerie, so if I will ski around these loops until I clock over 58 km, will you give me such a medal?

- Find his racing bag - she said.

A couple of club members drove me to the forest to see how it looks. I found it in much better condition than expected.
After return to the town, I still managed to participate in sled races with some Swedish guests (I am the one in the red top) and eventually went to sleep as the happiest person in Mora.

9 o'clock Sunday morning, blue skies, light frost, no wind. In the Log Cabin I left a bag with warm clothes and some food and drinks. I put on my red racing suit with kangaroos on the back and on the leg. 

I put on my race number 503, START!!! 

For a long time I was the only person on the trails. Later some people arrived, whole families for a relaxing session of skiing in the sun. Some of them were quite shocked when out of sudden a crazy racer appeared...

- Go away from the track - shouted parents to the children - thousand skiers will be here in a moment!

- But they said , that the race is cancelled?

I left them in such puzzled state and skied on and on - 5 times around The Point Trail, 4 times Beaver Dam Trail and every possible trail between and around.
Eventually my log showed more than 60 km, it was almost 3 pm. I skied back to the Log Cabin where some club members waited for me with the medal of my dreams. 

Back from home, I wrote a detailed report of my effort, it showed almost 65km. What a surprise it was when few weeks later I received mail from Valerie Brown. She sent me a special diploma... 

... and another medal. Valerie explained, that some of "Love to Ski" medals have been given to sponsors and volunteers so for me she sent a special one - Winners's Time + 50%, Year 1999...

And there is ONE and ONLY ONE such medal in the World!

When I am... Meeting the Snow Queen

I woke up in the bed after the afternoon nap.

First Sunday of March.  I looked at a wall at a blue diploma with a silhouette of the brave King Gustav.

Yes, Vasaloppet is held today. 

It reminded me THIS day, 23 years ago...

My host knocked to the door at 3 am. I jumped up, did not sleep anyway. Quickly devoured hot porridge and soon my host drove me to the town limits. 

Streets were closed to the traffic. I walked to the town centre on well-frozen, squeaky snow. From many streets dark shadows were coming out and hurried in the same direction. Goretex coats rustled like medieval armours. Sometimes one could hear clicking of skis or stocks. Great army of skiers came to the embarkation point.

In the town square long row of buses waited for us. Organizers gathered us in groups of fifty and packed into buses. And soon the bus started for a 2 hours journey, and the next one, and the next… 

I fell asleep. I was awaken by some noises. There were police lights blinking outside, sharp whistles. Get out!

With a black crowd I hurried towards the start area. Looked like a battlefield. Thousands of skis and stocks laid evenly on the snow. At the back, powerful blowers pumped hot air into some shapeless balloon. I found my section and placed skis on the snow. 

On a small wooden tower an aerobic instructor led some simple exercises. Loud music of ABBA. Thousands of skiers jumped and waved arms together with the instructor. Suddenly the music changed to Let’s the sun shine from Hair.

- Greet the rising Sun! - shouted the instructor.

I turned my head back and gasped in awe. Behind us towered 20 metres high great Red Horse, a symbol of Dalarna province. 

And behind him, there was a pinkish light in the black sky. 10 minutes to start – announced loudspeakers. Quickly I put my outer layer of clothes into a plastic bag marked with my starting number and threw it on the side of the course. Army and volunteers feverishly collected bags and loaded them into tracks. Will I see my clothes again? Around me clicking of ski bindings and shuffling of skis in the tracks.

START! 

Loud cry from 15 thousands lungs. I looked back. Great Horse wavered in the wind, leaned forward like it was to go with us, like a great war machine.

Faster! – shouted somebody behind me and stepped on my ski. 

Oooops, I was too slow, there was a gap of few meters ahead of me, I pushed strongly with my poles. 

Vasaloppet started. Long, easy climb. Bark on the birch trees had a pink hue. After one hour I got to the high plains. The sun was already well above the horizon. Fog in the valleys was still pink but the snow under my feet was getting gold. 

What a joyful day! I got a feeling that I waited for this day for a long time. And now it came. I was doing, what I always wanted to do. I felt so happy. 

The racecourse was made of 6 parallel pairs of tracks. Unending row of skiers in each track. 

When we climbed up I got impression we were in ancient Egypt pulling stone blocks for pyramids. And from the hill the serpent of skiers looked like Chinese Great Wall. 

Every dozen kilometres we came to a food station. Few cups of blueberry soup. For next half kilometre the snow was blue. And later again, whiteness, rustle of the snow, clicking of ski poles.How many hours I‘ve been in the race?

Noon passed. Shadows grew longer and deeper. The course narrowed, line of skiers stretched thinner. That’s good. I was already tired with this crowd. 

Suddenly I heard a tone of violin.  Was I hallucinating? I slowed down, tried to move quieter. No, it was not a hallucination, violin for sure. I passed a turn of the track; there was no skier around me. 

At the side of the course stood small, maybe 9 years old girl and played some Swedish folk song on the violin and her even younger brother was sitting on the stool and kept on his knees a towel and some candies on it.

I slowed down and stopped. I wanted to ask who they were, if they will find their way home. Then I met the eyes of the girl. She looked into my eyes intensely, like only children can look. 

- Skier from the faraway country. Why did you stop? You came long way for this royal race. And I am playing for you. Because this is your truth. Be faithful to it. 

And she brought violin to her chin and ordered: 

GO! 

Obediently I straightened skis in the tracks, took a deep breath and pushed with ski poles as strong as I could, until I felt pain in my ribs, like now. But I still managed to shout: 

- Little girl! And what is your truth? 

-To play for you – answered the pure voice - .. to play for you – repeated echo in the woods. 

I did not notice when I passed the finish line. Young girl ran next to me pulling my arm to stop me. Another girl embraced me while another one was taking off my skis. I came back to reality, collected a ticket for skis and another one for a hot soup.

- What a great service - I remarked.

- Oh, we have to stop you older guys - answered the girl - otherwise you would ski forever. She waved a hand towards a dark wall of trees.

I found my clothes, ate the soup and asked for a taxi. If you haven’t booked earlier you’ll have to wait more than one hour.  

There was 6 kilometres to my home. I better go, maybe will catch some lift.
I reached quickly the town limits and stepped on the road. I did not walk too far when I heard something stopping behind me and an order issued in strong female voice: 

- Get in! 

I turned back. There was a sleigh of a Snow Queen.

I looked into her eyes, were dark blue and deep as an ocean. One short spasm of shivers and suddenly I did not feel any cold nor tiredness. The sleigh moved on and took off in the sky. 

- Where are you taking me? - I asked.
- Where would you like to go? - asked the Snow Queen.
- Maybe, to Hokberg, to check if this girl and her brother returned safely home.

The sleigh turned back towards the ski trails. There was night around us and I could see only the racetrack marked with thousands of torches placed in the snow. 

We approached settlement of Hokberg. The sleigh lowered and stopped in front of a little house. I got of from the sleigh. I could hear the tone of violin coming from the house. Same violin I heard during the race, this time however it was simple minuet by J.S. Bach. I sat on the snow and listened. The music ended. Out of sudden I felt terribly tired and sleepy. 

- Get up, we go home. – I heard the voice of the Snow Queen. 

- Home? – I awoke like from the sleep. 

- Yes, your home. 

- So this is the end? - I asked feeling somehow helpless and lost.

- You may still come here.

-  Here? To listen to the music? 

- To listen the music and to ski the race. 

- And laughing girls will stop me again at the finish line? 

- No, this time nobody will stop you; this race never ends.

I stretched in the bed, turned around and I heard a noise of a book falling on the floor - Julian Barnes - The Lemon Table.

Story of Mats Israelson... about Anders Boden, the man who waited 23 years before he invited Ms Lindvall for a long excursion.

23 years, like today.

I got out from the bed and walked in the street.

After few steps I recognized a familiar melody of J.S. Bach's Menuet.

Of course, it was a daughter of our neighbours at the corner.

I passed the music and walked up the street.

At the corner I noticed a girl waving to.

Snow Queen? - a thought struck me.

Not this time - it was a girl from corner house, who usually does some gardening around.

She waved again - come closer, I have something to tell you.

I made a step forward.

- You ate garlic - frowned she. I stepped backwards.

- Come, I have something important to tell you.

- I stepped forward, but not too far, I already knew her story.

- Did you notice, there are many cars driving up and down the strret, without any purpose, very strange.

- Very strange, I confirmed.

The girl stopped talking and I moved forward.
Soon a dark wall of trees was ahead of me..

Wall of trees?

Wattle Park, just narrow line of trees and then an oval, playground.

Definitely not a place for the Snow Queen.

Where is she?
Maybe she was in those cars driving up and down the street?

Maybe the garlic repulsed her?

What a joke!

Return to snow

Sunny and snowy winter was too tempting. I returned on snow after few years break. On 1 August I drove to Bogong Village for a social weekend with my old friends from Melbourne Nordic Ski Club - MNSC.
Saturday morning was sunny and frosty. The road was clear but at some places icy and we had to put snow chains on. Luckily we got help from a couple of young Chinese guys and drove smoothly to the top...

Ski trails looked very tempting...

The skier was tempted, but limited by age and other conditions...

On Sunday the weather continued a sunny spell. This time I tried some downhill...

Sharper turns on blue trails caused some pain in knees, so I spent most time on beginner trails. Still enjoyable and the views compensated my fitness shortcomings...

Winter

Winter is coming slowly. Most of July there was cold but minimal snow falls. Lately we had mixture of both.

Last Saturday (17/07), I accompanied Michael and his family in snow play in Lake Mountain.

First, Michael transported Matilda on his back...

Then we tried to build a snowman and an igloo.

Felix invented a modernized version, with a glass roof. As a material we used ice sheets from the frozen creek...

During drive from Melbourne, Felix told me:

- I know how to ski, I saw it on TV.

I think it was not so much TV , but his ballet training which helped him to cope quite well with icy snow and slippery skis.

But playing on toboggan was most enjoyable.