Bridger S.F. Luminaries: Heather McPhie

One thing that makes Bridger Ski Foundation such a great organization is that they put serious support behind all kinds of skiing - alpine, nordic, freestyle, biathlon back in the day. I'm pretty sure if women's nordic combined ever made it to the five rings competition Bozeman would build a jump, start a team, and help support some serious talent for the red, white, and blue. Which brings us to Heather McPhie.

Heather McPhie is a talent just entering her prime. Just read that bio - a handful of World Cup wins, 3rd in last season's World Cup overall, requisite RedBull Sponsorship. Don't be surprised to see Heather sharing the cover of the Wheaties box later this spring. 

Action card layout by  DMLEUSCHEN DESIGN  from BSF's Countdown to Sochi Event

Bridger S.F. Luminaries: Hank Kashiwa

I first met Hank through his son, Hennie on the back porch of the Nystad brother's infamous Denver house. For a couple spring breaks during my University of Utah days I'd head to Denver (and perhaps the Black Hole, or some other Southern Utah locale for a desert adventure) to visit friends during a long weekend. What I remember most about Henni and Hank was how much energy both father and son had, and how great they were with guitars and lyrics. 

I first heard about the Yellowstone Club through Hank, the uber-exclusive resort on 13,600 acres outside Bozeman. Big hitters like Bill Gates, Justin Timberlake, Bill Murray and the like call the Yellowstone Club (probably one of many) homes away from home. At the time, I remember being, "Really, a place like the Yellowstone Club and a private world-class alpine resort only open to members could even exist?" Although I've still never been within the Yellowstone Club's pearly gates, I heard it really does exist.

The 100 Countdown with Bridger S.F. Luminaries: Scott Schmidt

With 100 days until the big show in Sochi, I thought to take an Olympian or pioneer of skiing from the Bridger Ski Foundation every day this week. Each of these individual's passion and dedication has helped paved the trail for myself and all the others to come. 

With Scot Schmidt I first remember him from the film The Blizzard of Aahs where Mr. Schmidt and Glen Plake brought a whole new attitude to alpine skiing in America. Seeing these two for the first time drop out of the cable car from the top of Chamonix's Aguille du Midi, then proceeded to ski harder than I'd then ever imagined, must have opened many kids' minds to the allure of big mountain skiing. I know it more than piqued my interest.   

Action card layout by  DMLEUSCHEN DESIGN  from BSF's Countdown of Sochi Event

Snow in the Hills, Holsteins in the Stables

Somedays the light is just right, and you were lucky enough to have packed the camera in the back pocket. Somedays, this extra pound of metal and synthetic silver salts isn't a burden, and you have an image to remind you of where your strides took you. Here, the road up the Dischma to Durrboden doesn't disappoint.

With snow in the hills, the cows throughout Graubunden have now made their trek back down to the lower elevations in town. Thank you for all the time-honored work, the gruyere cheese has been mighty tasty.

If I could ever offer any expertise in picking a book from the cold winter months ahead, it would have to be The Lonely Breed. Written by none other than the brilliant athletics man from Australia Ron Clarke, The Lonely Breed chronicles twenty-one characters of the sport of running. Mr. Clarke's writing is sharp and introspective. He also fills the sentences with insight only a seventeen-time world record holder could possess. Consider this opening on the Kiwi Murray Halberg:

If one word can begin to describe Murray Halberg, it is perhaps ruthless. His whole attitude before a race, his demeanor, his bearing, all seemed to indicate to his opponents his utter invincibility. There is no doubt that Murray was a tough competitor. He was perhaps more feared by his opponents than any other world champion has ever been. 

There was something about the man which seemed to say 'I will win this race.' His reputation was always one of the tough, hardened and bitter competitor, who would give no quarter and expect none. And yet, when you get to know him over a quiet beer, or in an Olympic Village, he is the most friendly of characters -alive with personality, ready with a joke at any time, possessing a dry and remarkable sense of humor. It was my fortune to meet and run against Murray Halberg, and I feel he is one of the great athletes of our time. ... 

Here in this chapter, I  try to illustrate the very invincibility of Halberg. The race selected is not one of his wonderful wins in the Empire or Olympic Games, but rather one which he should not have won - but he knew somehow that he would win, and so did his opponents.

                                                                 

                                                                  *     *      *

Most of the hours of the days here follow the rhythm of the training cycle. I'm quite fortunate to have the opportunity to train with many different teams. This allows me to never check or curb my enthusiasm. It's pretty easy to put the whole of yourself into a session of 5x8min intervals when you have Toni Livers and Dario Cologna and others doing the very same thing you are, chasing the very same feelings, at that very same moment. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oYtEiI4jq8w

Until the next time. -T

Scenes from the Road: Ramsau am Dachstein Edition

The sleepy Austrian village of Ramsau am Dachstein holds a special place in both mine and many others' ski racing career. My first ever international trip, to the 2000 World Junior Championships in Slovakia's High Tatras began with five days in Ramsau to acclimate before the races began. For the last three years, I've spent two weeks in October skiing the serpentine trails atop the Dachstein Glacier. "The place where champions go to put in some heavy work" is how I would most succinctly describe Ramsau. I know of no Olympic champion - ever - that has not melted at lease few snowflakes with their skis at this venue. If there is, let him or her be named!

Ramsau rests at 1200 meters. The base of the gondola resides at 1700 meters. The top of the gondola rises to 2700 meters. The top spire of Dachstein reaches 2996 meters into the air.

Dachstein has been doing some home improvements. Today, you can ride to the top either in the glass enclosed gondola, or atop the gondola in a steel cage, open to the elements. Riding atop the gondola is highly recommended to those without a great fear of heights, or feats of engineering. Above, the tram's station awaits.

In my limited experience, snow cover at the Dachstein has never been better. Everyday, we skied on the the big loop, which took about a half-hour to ski. 

The last two years, I joined the Norwegian outfit Team Sjusjoen in Ramsau. This year, I teamed up with the Swiss Power Sprint Team. Here I pose with (L-R): Mauro Gruber, Eligius Tambornino, myself, Martin Jager. The Swiss Power team is led by Christof Schmid. In addition to coaching skiers, Mr. Schmid cut his coaching chops working in track & field, most notably the 800 meter world champion from 2001, Andre Bucher.

The Estonian National Sprint Team and Swiss Power combine forces at training camps throughout the year. This is a pretty sweet collaboration or national teams working together. It's also for this openness that I suspect I should be greatful that the two teams are happy to have me join them in their Olympic preparations. The Swiss Sprinters are great skaters. The Estonians are most talented in classic skiing. To have both teams to challenge each other with is an ideal situation. For those University of Fairbanks fans out there, NCAA alumni Vahur Tappan oversees the Estonian's technique and preparation, with input from Mr. Schmid.  In the picture above, Kein Einaste takes on Marco Kilp in table tennis. The Estonians ruled on the small table, the Swiss on the tennis hardcourt.

Alaska has its Bridge to Nowhere. Dacstein must have been jealous. Now they have their own Stairway to Nowhere.

Until next time, Ciaoti und Viel Spass!

Postcards from Helvetica

After almost a month across the Atlantic, I haven't sent any handwritten notes to Mr. Haberberger's 6th Grade Reading & Writing class. Fortunately, I'd been picking up postcards, and writing notes while traveling from Davos to  Andermatt, Switzerland, and the Italian mountain towns of Seiser Alm and Livigno. With an eleven-day on-snow training camp coming up tomorrow in Ramsau am Dachstein in Austria I had a rest day to catch up on trips to town and the post office. With Mr. Peck having moved from Peshastin, Washington to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, I wanted a class closer to my hometown to connect with. Fortunately, Carl Haberberger and his wife Anastasia moved back to Leavenworth, with Carl teaching down at Orchard Middle School, a two-minute spin on the bike from my parent's house.

A nice benefit from getting to travel is seeing the different architecture that places in particularly harsh environments foster. In tight alpine valleys like the Engadin in Switzerland, not to mention the difficulty of reaching an Italian town like Livigno in the winter months - or a four month ag growing season - towns that now mesh luxury with high alpine have centuries-long history of regional poverty. This made building dwellings where form followed function more than a design ideal. When I see the architecture of places like these, I wonder what my friend-turned-architect Syndicate Smith would have to specifically say about each of these places. When I see a house of his making with his trademark clean simplicity, I can't help but think he's been inspired some by various alpine architecture. 

Last time, I wrote a little report from Nordic Weekend in Andermatt. The final race. the "berglauf" finished atop the Gotschener Pass, beside this lake. I stiched together several photos to try and capture the scene in more detail. At the top, I ran into some Americans from Boulder, Colorado cycling through the Alps for the fourth time. I could tell, though, they were more than a little uneasy about all the flooding and destruction going in their Colorado backyards.

Coming back from Nordic Weekend, I step my first steps in the Swiss National Park. If I was king for a day, I'd make sure there were than just the one national parks here in Switzerland that sits beside Zernez and the Ofenpass. I think Teddy Roosevelt, for whom this blog is named after, would agree as well.

The Breaking Bad finale awaits on Sunday. I know my mind wanders from time to time to try and glimpse the future of the destruction on Walter White. What about yours? 

Finally, a cool little story about Alan Webb and Shalane Flanagan getting all In The Arena with Portland State Cross Country.

Scenes from the Road: The Nordic Weekend in Andermatt, Switzerland

For the second consecutive year, I've had the opportunity to race the Nordic Weekend in Andermatt, Switzerland. It's always cool to travel to unique towns and locales. Andermatt is certainly not the exception. The tight, green valley sits below the three towering passes of the Gotthard, the Furka, and the Oberalp.  Andermatt is so geographically isolated, Switzerland built fortresses into the granite mountains to serve as its last stronghold against foreign invasion.  This kanton (county) of Switzerland identifies itself with the bull. This white steer head was definitely the coolest one I found in my short time in town.

The race series got underway with a 3.5km prologue on the military grounds of Realp. This track is the official training grounds of the Swiss biathlon team. The weatherman said it was supposed to be 50km winds with pelting rain. The breeze was in the air, though the rain thankfully didn't yet arrive with the opening stage. With these race photos, I have to give a big shout out to photographer Urs Steger for sending them my way.

The highlight of the three-races for me was the classic hillclimb on a crazy Euro country road that ran up the valley beside the Furka Pass road. Last year, I finished this race totally gassed, and satisfied with the performance. This year, I was again right on the limit, but 40 seconds closer to Dario than last year. I was stoked with my performance, and the way my body was responding to my first real sustained ski-like race of the preparation season.

The weekend finished with a punishing 8km mountain run. Heading to the early morning race start, I passed the most impressive goat devil carved in bas relief into the mountain side. My companions told me the legend of this figure comes from a Swiss herdsman making a deal with the devil to make a bridge across the brutal Reuss river. The Devil offered to build the bridge, though he insisted on the soul of the first to cross as repayment. The Herdsman fooled the devil by driving a goat from his herd across.  

This Devil's Bridge allowed people to traverse from the Milano region of Italy to the Rhine, and thus North Sea of Scandinavia. Spending more time here in Central Europe I'm slowly discovering just how important North to South routes through the Alps are, both in times of carriages and cars. 

Heading back to Davos, Bettina took me for the first time to Switzerland's one and only national park. There is snow in this neighborhood these days. Maybe winter isn't too far off. I will glide on the real thing again in just over a week, atop the Dachstein Glacier. I'm pretty sure there will be a story or two to tell then.