Distinctly Montana Magazine
Issue link: https://digital.distinctlymontana.com/i/20776
were stronger than they for 38 kilometers! If only you had got more sleep! If only you had rested more during the last two weeks instead of going dancing! If, if, if... The ifs finally stop, and I just slide into the land of hypoglycemia, that wonderful place, so close to death, where stopping at the next aid station and asking for a snowmobile ride back to the start seems to be exactly what I want to do. I coast down the hill to the 39th kilometer, drink six cups of Max, and eat a dozen chocolate stars. The jolt in my gut is like a lighter held to a pile of crumpled newspaper. I go out and up the next hill, knowing I’ll finish skating. Ahead, climbing through a grove of aspen, the man in red and the woman in blue maintain their endless, steady pace. This part of the course, called Windy Ridge, is high and open and lets you see the track for hundreds of meters. For six or seven kilometers the three of us skate along, up and down, never gaining, never losing, the hazy cirrus descending, the wind picking up a little, my left side aching, the snot run- ning down my chin and freezing where it falls on my leg. What more can you ask for on a Saturday morning? such repetition. You can give more to each stroke when the end is in sight and you’ve let your anger go off into the clouds. Besides, I haven’t given up. Rapidly approaching is one of my favorite parts of the West Yellowstone course. As you come out of the aptly named Dead Dog Loop there’s a long uphill followed by a right turn through large conifers. Then a modest climb gives way to a left turn and easy skat- ing through open woods, where you can enjoy the race’s last long views: sprawling valleys, big mountains, the Big Sky. The course then turns down into lodgepole, down, down, down nearly four kilometers toward the finish line, with only three short hills in between, all of which can be skated fast, giving you a last chance to really race instead of just survive. On that long hill out of Dead Dog I close in on the man in red and the woman in blue. I don’t try to close on them. It just happens. Then it crosses my mind: Catch them. But I know I can’t. This last Dead Dog hill will turn me into exactly that. I skate 150 meters behind them, through the How swift do you Have to be to know you skied your own good race? A man in silver passes me. There he is, on my shoulder, saying so politely, “On your left.” Then he’s ahead of me, with a “How’s it going?” Where he came from, I don’t know. I passed him hours ago—hours. Where did he find the strength to ski so hard at this stage of the race, after being back there so long? And his good cheer! For a min- ute I feel anger well up in my chest at this silver android with those dumb iridescent sunglasses who’s going to beat me and be nice about it. Yes, anger—anger at my body for not being able to imitate what I am witnessing. As he disappears over the next rise I give a huge, letting-go sigh and go back to concentrating on my rhythm: Pole-glide.. . pole-glide. . . When all is said and done, and everyone who is going to pass you has passed you, there’s beauty to be found in big trees and out into the open woods. Where the course starts its long downhill straightaway I step into the track. For some reason they stay in the skating lane. I double-pole and see that I am gaining on them. I am also plotting. If you’ve skied the course many times, you know that this grade ends in a very hard right turn followed by a 70-meter uphill that at this stage of the race appears to be Himalayan in size. But knowing the course, you also know that at the top of this hill there is a slightly climbing flat, where if you can somehow suck enough Os to skate hard, you can tuck into one of the most exciting downhills of the entire race. At its bottom lies a right bend, which looks likely to throw you into the trees if skied at top speed but which can be turned handily in a tuck, flat out—if you don’t lose cour- age. This turn leads to a smooth dip. Going fast through www.distinctlymontana.com 33