Scenes from the Road: Davos, Suisse Edition

In Davos the ski trails ramble off in three distinct directions. Up the Fluela Valley is home to the old-school World Cup trails, the steepest of the bunch. The Dischma Valley has been renamed Sunny Valley by many and holds the hearts of more than a few skiers. By my favorite valley in Davos on a classic distance day is hands down up the Sertig. The trails twisty and turns at a steady, unrelenting, if entirely skiable grade for a good hour straight up from my trailside home.




The tracks today were fast and bulletproof hard, making a layer of green klister covered by viola absolutely necessary. The sun was out, too. Ahh, yes, the days are good and only looking up, up, up.

After Nationals off to Winterwonderweg

After the competitions ended and all the competitors headed for whiter pastures I bid farewell to Maine for a day along the Connecticut River. Before making my way to the state line towns of Lyme, New Hampshire and South Strattford, Vermont, I stopped off at the Washington Hotel in Bretton Woods to check out the scene by skis and get a little oxygen in the lungs.



Since my days studying a bit of economics at the University of Utah, I've been interested to one day check out the trails of Bretton Woods. Finally, the opportunity finally came. Way back in the summer of 1944 all forty-four of the Allied Nations came together for three weeks to hammer out how a system of monetary policies to help us from having more great wars. To schuss around on the 60 kilometers of immaculately buffed out trails, and at least get an idea of what its like to hop-nob with the elite - have you ever seen a hand-crafted mahogany clad ski locker room before? - made for an interesting diversion.

From Bretton Woods it was off to Bull Moose Acres. The farm sits three miles outside the classic, quaint New England town of Lyme, New Hampshire. After climbing for two miles up a meandering unlined country road, one reaches the former horse racing stables that now is home to the In The Arena world headquarters. I've heard awed rumblings about this place and its mission, but I still didn't know what to expect. Whether it was the alpen glow of the early evening or the wild turkeys scurrying about, I knew I was headed someplace special as I made my way up the maple-lined drive.

To one side rests the Dartmouth SkiWay, along with 20,000 acres of protected wilderness. To the other, clear views run to the peaks of the White Mountains fifty miles away. For someone who might use the word claustrophobic as one way to describe the East, this came as a most welcome surprise.

Soon though it was time to say goodbye to Amory and David, to Thea and little Torin as well and head across the Connecticut for a family dinner in Vermont. Six years had past since the last time I was here. It makes one think how time and opportunity can both pass far too quickly if we're not attuned to the world around us. If another six years must pass before I hit the the eastern backcountry with my cousins Casey and West and Jay, that many springs transpire before I tap another sugar maple tree, or that many classes of young athletes make their way through the ITA summer training&life camp experience before I return, well, it will be far too long.

Until then, I'm in the Alps of Switzerland, prepping for all the real races left before I call an end to this season. Until then, enjoy the days. I'll do the same.


( this photo by Bettina G.)

US Nationals 2011: Slush Cuppin'

My weeklong domestic ski season kicked off today with the US Nationals Classic Sprint in scenic Rumford, Maine. With little snowpack and temperatures reaching up to 47 degrees, made for a unique battle between fatigue, technique, tactics and the elements. Fortunately, my coach Scotty J. and teammate Sam have been prepping for days exactly like this. In addition to long the expert help in the waxroom I got from Ben Husaby, Janice Sibilia and Justin Beckwith, this was all the measure I needed to come out on top today. To everyone, from the snow shovelers out on the trails of Black Mountain, to the fans and friends back home, thank you.



Through the rounds of racing it was really cool to see how well some of the young 'ens were skiing. Mikey Sinnott of Sun Valley made a beautiful move to splinter the final pairing to pieces. I was particularly impressed, though, with Erik Packer's stride-and-glide on the climbs. And from all those summer workouts back in the Methow Valley I knew the younder Bjornsen's got more than a little talent in this ski racing game.

Scenes From the Road: Rumford, Maine Edition

In Washington, we have the towering Cascades to captivate the photographer's lens. In Utah, the deserts, the mesas, and the views that stretch for miles in every direction are certainly picture-worthy. With its four distinct seasons, the small towns of New England have their unique charm. From turn-of-the-century farmhouses to scenic schoolyards like the Lukin School House I pass everyday from the MOD's stay at the Inn at the Rustay to the race trails at Black Mountain.




My favorite sights stray a bit from the postcard-worthy, though. Like this one taken a little before noon on a Thursday, complete with a full rack of Natural Ice, minus eight empties. Hey, at least its five o'clock somewhere. Maybe Stockholm, Sweden.. Living the dream, South Maine style.

The Boys of MOD Back At It

With my training compatriot Sam's mono-i-mono battle, followed by a NorAm throwdown in British Columbia, combined with my recent transatlantic adventures, the boys of MOD finally came together again for a good old fashioned throwdown on the trails of Sun Mountain. What follows in the video below is a couple of the scenes from the day.

From the Evergreen State, its now off to US Nationals in sunny Rumford, Maine. Racing kicks off on January 2nd with the sprint, classic style.

Old Skool Skiing - A Christmas Time Gift

With school getting out for both Mrs. Beavon's class at Liberty Bell Junior High and Mr. Peck's 5th graders in Leavenworth, I thought the time couldn't be better for a little old school skiing from Billy Koch. I vividly remember watching this for the first time at my boyhood friend Scotty's house. He'd commandeered a copy and fired up the 16mm reel player, and seconds later I watched transfixed as the king of momentum did his thing on his skinny Silver 44s.

Adjø Norge, Hello Home

After five weeks of practicing my rough Norwegian, eating brown cheese daily, along with a journey north of the Arctic Circle to Rovaniemi Finland, along with a trip for a little city sprint action in Dusseldorf, it's been nice to get back to the Northwest. Along with getting in a couple kilometers on the old familiar trails of Leavenworth, I dropped into Mr. Peck's class and caught up with Mr. Peck's class before heading a little farther North to the Methow Valley. Up here. I'm getting back in touch with the seventh and eighth graders in Mrs. Beavon's AVID class that looks to close the achievement gap of these talented and inspired, though sometimes sidetracked students. It's pretty cool to see how much progress the kids have made in class here. Also out the door here the snow is piled high, almost reaching the windowsills of my little cabin in the woods.