“There is nothing cross-country skiing can’t make better.”
Norweigan saying
Most people who try cross-country/Nordic skiing for the first time don’t like it. I didn’t. I was never a sporty child nor did I enjoy the outdoors. Growing up in the Bronx, I preferred sitting inside with a good book. I even hated recess.
In my late 20s, my best friend Cathy got me on cross-country skis for the first time when I visited her in Washington state. It was her favorite activity, but to me, clomping up hills with skis felt like a forced bootcamp march. Going down was worse, as even the slightest slopes had me careening out of control. Terrified I’d run into a tree, I’d opt to fall instead — a sometimes painful and always awkward experience as I’d found myself sprawled in the middle of the trail on my back like an upside down turtle unable to get up. I did not see the appeal of this activity.
The winter after Cathy died of metastatic breast cancer was a snowy one, and oddly, I found myself wanting to ski. It felt like a way to bring her back to me. I bought a set of cheap used skis and boots on Craigslist and headed to the golf course down the road. It wasn’t much fun. At first, I was ready to give up, but decided I would try again at Notchview, a property of the Trustees of Reservations in the foothills of the Berkshire Mountains, in Windsor, with 25 miles of groomed cross country trails with stunning vistas. The conditions must have been pretty good because I liked it enough to go back the next week. And then I went back again. Soon I could feel my thigh muscles strengthening and my balance improving. I fell less and less. Then one day, with my playlist of favorite songs piping through my ears, I found myself gliding weightlessly up and down the snowy hills, the closest feeling to flying I have ever felt. I was hooked.
Cross-country skiing is hard at first. You have to learn how to kick and glide, even up hills. You have to figure out how to keep from falling. But once you learn how to do that, it transforms you — both from the glee it provides, but also because it’s one of the best exercises for cardiovascular health, while also building muscle mass on both your upper and lower body. But I like Nordic skiing for more than its health benefits. It’s the only thing that will reliably lift my mood. It’s also taught me about confidence and balance — and how fear of falling can make me fall. It made me understand why Inuits have 53 different names for snow. The buttery snow that feels like skiing on cake icing. The fast granular snow embedded with bits of ice. And the powder-packed snow that gives you perfect control. It made me fall in love with winter.
I love that you can Nordic ski in so many beautiful settings beyond just groomed ski centers. I’ve skied in the woods near my house, on snowmobile and rail trails, across gusty ponds. Once we were on the Cape in February during a blizzard and I skied right next to the ocean.
What intensifies my love of cross-country skiing is the knowledge that I can never take it for granted. Cross-country skiing requires the vigorous use of all four limbs, leaving little room for injury or illness. Even a measly bunion can put a wrench in things. Also, global warming means that snow is never a given. A few days of warm temperatures combined with a heavy rain storm can destroy even a decent base overnight. Climate change has already forced the closure of many New England Nordic ski areas due to lack of snow. Some people retire to Florida. I wonder if there’s assisted living at the North Pole.
But whether or not skiable snow disappears in my lifetime, I mourn its inevitable departure at the end of every season, when the thawing earth starts peeking through the snow. It will be at least nine months — if not longer — before I can return to these trails. Given the warming planet and my aging body, I never know how many skiing days I have left. But for as long as I can still push off, glide and feel the snow beneath me, I will ski for my body and my mind, for Cathy, and for the fleeting beauty of winter.
Happy skiing!
A beginner’s guide to finding joy on two planks
Stop before you’re exhausted. Leave the trails wanting more.
Check with your healthcare provider if you have any medical conditions. Nordic skiing is rigorous. Unless you have downhill skied before, you will probably fall in the beginning.
Take lessons. It doesn’t take long to learn.
Start on tracked trails. It makes it infinitely easier to learn. Plus, most Nordic centers, including Notchview, rent out equipment and offer lessons. Their trails are usually groomed for both classic skiing and skate skiing (a high-intensity variation; think Olympics racing style).
Always check trail conditions. Even when there’s no snow in the Valley, at more than 2,000-feet elevation, Notchview can be a winter wonderland. Slightly further away, near Bennington, Vermont, Prospect Mountain has the highest base elevation of any cross-country ski area in Vermont at 2,250 feet. While it might be raining everywhere else, they will reliably get snow. Like Notchview, they have a cozy lodge, and even serve food. The nonprofit organization hosts an annual moonlight ski, complete with bonfire and a shared meal.
If you buy equipment, choose wisely. Skis are sized by weight not height. If your ski is too short, you will be sluggish. Too long, and you might go faster than you want. I prefer the wider, shorter backcountry skis with metal edges which give me great control without compromising my glide. Plus, I can use them in ungroomed areas. Go with waxless skis and boots with rigid ankle support. After 12 years, I recently upgraded my skis and boots, drastically improving my skills. I only wish I had done it sooner. (Berkshire Outfitters, 20 minutes west of Notchview, in Adams, has a great selection and a knowledgeable staff.)
Don’t ski if conditions are too icy or there are thin spots. During late winter and early spring, the snow will start melting in the afternoon and then freeze up again at night, producing dangerously icy morning conditions. When that happens, wait until temperatures rise above freezing and be cautious on downhills — especially if bare spots and rocks are starting to protrude. It’s a perfect setup for a fall.
Dress wisely. As the saying goes, “There is no bad weather, only bad clothing. ” Dress in wool or synthetic base layers — not cotton which absorbs sweat and can make you colder. I’ve skied comfortably in subzero wind chill temperatures, wearing several wool layers and a nylon shell. When it’s not that cold, carry a pack so you can shed layers as your body heats up. When it’s cold, mittens are better than gloves.
Sarena Neyman is a writer living in Leverett.