Skiing Uphill Without A Clue

Ísafjörður, Iceland, Saturday, May 2, 2009

50km

Colin Blackburn

Although the ski marathon is on the 2nd of May the story begins a couple of months before…

It’s the end of February and I’m spending couple of weeks in the Sudtirol cross country skiing. Half way through the holiday I buy a second hand pair of classic racing skis with the vague idea that I’ll do a long ski race in about a year’s time. Not long after I return the friend that I run mountain marathons with, Chris, suggests a marathon in Norway in April. It’s a date I can’t do but it turns out to be full so the Fossavatn marathon in Ísafjörður is suggested. It’s a set of races from 7km to 50km with only 320 people entering in total. It wasn’t full! A flurry of booking followed: flights, hotels, airport transfers and the race itself. So, with just six weeks to prepare—and no snow!—I was about to embark on the longest ski of my life: 50km with 950m of climb and 1250m of descent.

April 30th. After 3 flights and a few hours in a Reykjavík B&B we arrive in the small northern town of Ísafjörður. It’s a sleepy little fishing town sitting on a spit in the middle of a spectacular fjord. Not much seems to happen in Ísafjörður, especially on May Day and Sunday, the only two days we have time on our hands. There is one “restaurant” selling pizzas, burgers and musical instruments. There is a hotel, the aptly named Hótel Ísafjörður which is, this weekend, full of skiers. The maritime museum with its comprehensive accordion collection fills a useful gap before lunch at one of the town’s two bakeries. Later in the day we take a taxi up to the finish area to get a feel for the snow. It’s warm and wet. The worst sort for XC skiing. After a couple of hours on the mountain we have a pizza but fail to take advantage of the 18 inch pizza/mandolin meal-instrument deal!

May 1st. After a quiet May Day morning discovering that there is a witchcraft shop (closed) and a lunch at the hotel we head back to the mountain for a “track inspection”. The bus ride there and back along with a guided tour of around 16km of the course is all included in the £25 entry price. It also gives me a chance to practice the final 5km descent to the finish, not very well as it happens. The day is rounded off with a pasta party, again, included in the price.

Me starting.Me resting.Me moving.photos courtesy and © Ágúst G. Atlason
Me finishing.photo courtesy and © Benedikt Hermannsson

May 2nd. Race day. After eating the hotel out of oat-based cereals skiers board the free bus to the start area.

Now, here’s a technical bit for Keith. It is possible to ski uphill. Here’s how. A classic XC has a camber. When you put your full body weight on one ski the central cambered section touches the ground. When you distribute your weight equally over both skis the cambered sections don’t quite touch the ground. By putting a sticky wax on this cambered “kick zone” the ski can grip the snow when all the weight is on it, yet glide over the snow when only half the weight is on it. By transferring weight between the skis and pushing forward you can ski uphill.

Anyway, all this science means that there is a lot of faffing at the start as skiers chose the right wax for the temperature and the wetness of the snow. They decide the amount of the kick zone to wax and what waxes to carry with them should they start to lose grip. I just had one suitable wax so my faffing was limited to getting sticky Klister all over myself instead of the skis.

10:00 and we’re off. Everyone else seems to move off dramatically faster than me but then they all know how to ski well. For the first 10km I keep up with the tail-enders and I even leave the drinks station 3rd from last. It doesn’t last. While I have a reasonable level of fitness and stamina for going up hill I have neither the skill nor the confidence to go very fast down hill. I am either checking my speed unnecessarily and so losing time or judging it badly, falling, getting up again and so losing time. The couple of gadgies I was ahead of have no fear and loads of skill, they soon pass me. For the next 37km I am on my own, at the back. Every now and then I’ll glimpse the end of the field and think I’m catching them, then the course enters a hidden switch-back and I realise I am even further behind.

At Fossavatn, the half way stage, I stop for a breather and take a couple of photos of the stunning views. Then it’s through the chip timing gate and just 25km to go till home! The next 15km are a nightmare. The wind picks up, the driving sleet starts. It takes me nearly 15 minutes to do the next kilometre; I have visions of finishing in the dark. Every now and then there’s a little respite from the weather or a short down hill section and things don’t looks as bad as they did. It’s still very hard going though. I finally make it back to the final drinks station at the start area…the marshals have waited for me with bananas, chocolate and energy drink.

The marshal tells me that the rest of the course is easy, just one big hill! It’s still 14km to go, but she is right, it’s mostly descent. The first 7km is gentle manageable descent; then there’s a killer 2km climb where I glimpse the last two or three guys again, briefly; finally, after the Midfell timing gate, there’s the killer 5km death-drop into the finish. Steep and winding this is where I lose most time as my tired legs fail to cope with what little skill I have. The winner did this section is something like 12 minutes, that’s moving at an average of around 30km per hour! I manage about 10km per hour. I finally see the finish and after a few more falls for the spectators—enough for them to consider a sweepstake—I struggle across the line to an amazing cheer from the marshals and the few skiers who’ve not yet left on the bus back to Ísafjörður.

Once I’ve received my medal it’s on the bus and back to the hotel. After a quick shower it’s the Cake Buffet where there is an amazing selection of cakes and desserts that just never seemed to run out. I felt quite sick after insisting on trying as many as possible. The event is rounded off with an evening party where expensive Icelandic beer is consumed in volume while some local teenagers cover a few Abba hits.

May 3rd. I wake up with a very painful knee, I must have picked up a twist on one of the final falls. Other than that everything feels much better than it would have done had I run 30 miles. Later in the day we start our journey back taking in an evening in a wet Reykjavík.

Overall a tremendous experience and it has whetted my appetite for doing more ski marathons. Since there’s no snow now until next winter at least I will have time to train for the next one if not practice.

I’d recommend XC skiing to anyone with the time and, to some degree, the money. There are various ways of learning from a couple of days in Scotland, weather permitting, to very relaxing holidays on the continent. You never know, you might even want to race!

Results

Pos Name Nat Cat Pos Fossavatn Midfell Finish
1 Oskar Svärd Sweden Elite 1 1:09:37 2:21:00 2:32:08
3 Johan Sandberg Sweden M35-49 1 1:15:57 2:34:22 2:46:49
25 Kim Rudd USA F/F35-49 1 1:31:13 3:01:49 3:15:58
43 Chris Dibben UK M35-49 17 1:40:42 3:45:56
66 Colin Blackburn UK M35-49 22 2:24:27 4:54:17 5:25:23

66 finishers.

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