Vakava Team Photo

Vakava Team Photo
Vakava Racers at the Mora Last Chance Race

Thursday, February 22, 2024

Where Are You Winter? Finding Snow in Colorado

Throughout my life, I’ve been struck by the quotes from others I remember. One occurred 30 years ago while my friend's mom was driving me home from a sleepover. It was just the two of us in the car and it felt a bit awkward without my friend, but the mom led the conversation, saying that she lived in Minnesota for the changing of the seasons and to experience the summer and the winter so distinctly.

I thought about this in our relatively snowless winter of 2016 when Erik and I finally found some snow up near Lake Louise and above Canmore in Alberta. And I thought of this now in 2024 as we prepared to travel to Colorado.

Last year we drove to Idaho to ski the Boulder Mountain Tour, but we were only gone a week and it just wasn’t enough time. I proposed we spend two weeks in Colorado this year, working towards completing the mostly defunct American Ski Marathon Series with the Alley Loop in Crested Butte and a “pre-camp” at Snow Mountain Ranch. So a year ago we laid the groundwork for this trip and as it approached and the Twin Cities had seen zero natural ski days of the winter, the timing couldn’t have been better.

Snow Mountain Ranch


We drove to Colorado, leaving the Twin Cities on January 27th in fog with bare ground. By the time we made it to western Minnesota, the snowbanks were high, collected from drifting snow. This persisted throughout Iowa and eastern Nebraska. Then as we entered Colorado the snow disappeared and the high was near 60 degrees. That of course all ended as we drove west out of Denver on Sunday on I-70 and then turned north to drive over Berthoud Pass on Hwy 40. The snow returned, deep, but obviously not fresh.

Back in 2015 over Thanksgiving week we spent a handful of days in Frisco and Breckenridge skiing before doing one day each at Devil’s Thumb Ranch and Snow Mountain Ranch. We decided then that we had to come back to Snow Mountain Ranch to ski more and so that’s what we were about to do. As an added bonus, probably because Snow Mountain Ranch is one of the YMCAs of the Rockies, lodging at Snow Mountain Ranch is both economical and trailside.

After a brief unpack, we got right to skiing. It was nearing 4 pm and we had less than two hours before dusk. The sun was still warm and we didn’t wear much clothing which became a big mistake once the sun went behind the mountains. After an hour I had to call my ski quits because it was simply too cold. I added a jacket and rallied with a run to get just over 1.5 hours on the day.

First natural snow ski day of the 2023-2024 season for me at Snow Mountain Ranch with our friend Emily. Photo Erik


Monday morning was again sunny but with clouds condensed in the valley. We set out to ski up to the top of Blue Ridge. It was a slow, tiring climb at 9,000 feet of elevation and the very top section wasn’t groomed so we turned around (well, we did try for a bit but I’m terrible at skiing in rutted-out powder so gave up). We did take the out-and-back trail to the overgrown scenic overlook which was a flatter and hence more enjoyable trail.

Sunrise from our lodge room at Snow Mountain Ranch.
Classic ski most of the way up to Blue Ridge. 1,800 feet of vertical in 14 miles.

That afternoon Erik and I skated all the trails in the southeast section around the biathlon range, criss-crossing and hitting up the rollers by the Nordic Center. 

Sweet braid and views of the Continental Divide from Columbine Point.
 

Afternoon skate ski - only 1,350 feet of elevation gain in 14 miles.

Tuesday morning I wanted to do some 30-30s classic style. This is of course a bit crazy at almost 9,000 feet. I did these last year with Ben in Idaho but we were “only” at 6,000 feet on relatively flat trail. Erik wanted to do these striding, I wanted to do them double poling. We compromised by heading to the north trails for a combo of both. The first 15 minute block we started on near flats but as soon as we began climbing, our heart rates jacked up super high. In the steepest part of the hill, I just stopped to breathe during my 30 seconds off. Once the terrain leveled off though I was able to ski during the “rest” 30 seconds. I finished up the first 15 minute block and then went back to find Erik.

I mis-read the map and so instead of the second 15 minute block starting on more uphill, it was actually a big downhill. Like a really big downhill so I just skipped those intervals. Once we hit more level terrain, I resumed the intervals. Turns out they are pretty easy to do on a gentle downhill grade. Then we finished up one more 15 minute set (5 minutes of rest between sets) that included an uphill section as well as a gradual double-poleable grade. Lesson learned: I can’t do 30-30’s at 9,000 feet on steep uphill or downhill grades.

That afternoon we skied the D loop on the northeast side with my old high school coach Karen who currently lives in the area. That probably has the best “rolling” terrain and we greatly enjoyed the company, trails, and sun!

 

Karen and I enjoying the viewpoint on the D loop.


Wednesday morning we classic skied with Ben up to the Yurt Loop and hit up a couple other trails. That afternoon Erik and I skated the remaining trails we hadn’t yet done, including a few big climbs and descents.  

Myself and Erik at Snow Mountain Ranch. Photo: Ben Mullin

Thursday we left Snow Mountain Ranch and went downhill skiing at Winter Park. Lift tickets are considerably more expensive than cross-country skiing but it was nice to have a day off from breathing so hard. As always, it took me awhile to get my downhill legs under me and I almost quit fairly early after doing some steep chewed-up blue runs but then found some easier slopes. We spent that night two miles high in Leadville. 

 

Downhill skiing at Winter Park.



Alley Loop Marathon


When I read into the Alley Loop, I learned that there was a team competition whereby six people had to ski all of the different race distances/techniques and at least two had to be women. There’s a big purse and top five teams all take home money. Last year there were only six teams. I can’t say our flatlander team was terribly stacked, but it was still fun to have our contingent represent as the Minnesnowtans. This included myself in the 42 km classic, Erik in the 42 km skate, our friend Emily in the 21 km classic, fellow Vakaver Ben Mullin in the 21 km skate, Ben’s wife in the 10 km skate, and Ben’s son in the 5 km skate. Our team name felt a bit hypocritical seeing as we’ve barely had snow in Minnesota this year!

I had decided to do the 42 km classic because there weren’t many women in the field last year and the course appeared to be a good one for double poling. Because I had good chances of winning, or at least being on the podium based on the 2023 results, I decided to preview the course on Friday. Erik, Ben, and I set out to ski an easy lap of the 42 km course (it’s 3 laps total with the first loop having a special start and the 42 km course having an extra 3 km section per loop). We skied easy (or at least I skied easy) and found that there were some sneaky false flats, a few climbs (that wouldn’t have been much at sea level) and that the course starts with a 150 foot climb. It snowed on and off on us during the preview, temps were around 35 degrees, and the sun kept trying to pop out.

The forecast had been calling for snow on both Friday and Saturday, race day. Even though I don’t particularly like a slog, I know that I do relatively better with a slog. I just wasn’t sure if a slog at 9,000 feet would also be my jam. The wind was forecasted to pick up for the second lap of the race. Nothing dramatic, but 10+ miles per hour wind is noticeable. Temps were otherwise in the 20s. The Alley Loop is a costume race and contest with lots of prizes. As such I wore my hot pink polka dot spandex suit while Erik wore his winter camo one-piece, both Erik Pieh exclusives. 

Some hard to ski in costumes. Photo: Crested Butte Nordic



The race starts in the town of Crested Butte which sits at an elevation just under 8,900 feet. The course climbs to just above 9,000 feet. I’ve spent enough time at altitude to know that I don’t get altitude sickness at that elevation (or even higher) so I was confident in that. I hoped that by being able to double pole more, I would use more muscle power rather than cardiovascular endurance to better manage the race at altitude. 

 

Main street (Elk Avenue) Crested Butte with snow on it, ready for the Alley Loop.


The race starts on Elk Avenue which is the main street of Crested Butte. This is an old Victorian style street with mostly real fronts, painted quite festively. Other than dirty snow on the street and being at 9,000 feet, it would’ve been awesome. I warmed up on the hill heading out of town and quickly realized there was no way I could stride this hill, even easy, without being in level 5. I was definitely in Level 3 just walking up the hill so I planned to do a little run/slide to start the race and not bog down in the first 5 minutes. Otherwise I did a slow jog and then it was time to line up. I got invited up to the front row in the small field of 40 combined men and women. While waiting for the start I looked around for all the women competitors and a few were looking a little fast!

The gun went off and the field started. I counted the women and as we headed into that first climb, I was in 5th with two women just in front of myself. Settle Elspeth, you cannot push this hill. It’s a long race. So I tried to chill but my heart rate still jacked up. I herring-boned walked the short steep section at the end and passed one of the women back up. As I went to double pole, I was gassed. My arms had that I-just-ran-an-all-out-400-meter feel. It’s OK Elspeth, you didn’t push the hill that hard. You will recover.

I set my sights on passing the next woman in front of me as we snaked down some gradual turns and did. I was into 3rd for women - on the podium. As we went into a gradual uphill, I caught a guy wearing Crested Butte spandex. I could hear myself breathing hard. Now I couldn’t see anyone in my field ahead of me. Over the previous 24 hours it had snowed about 4 inches making conditions soft and slow. Even though I couldn’t see anyone ahead of me in my race, I could see their tracks out on the skate deck instead of in the even slower classic track and followed suit. Even though I felt like I was creeping along, I was working plenty hard. It was interesting noting that on some of the short steeper uphills that the nine skiers in front of me, including two women, had been able to double pole. I took a few running strides on these. Once I got to the steeper uphills, I just herring-bone walked. 

Just Ken from New Mexico skied the 21 km classic with this box around him and subsequently won "hardest costume to ski in." Photo: Crested Butte Nordic

The downhills were slow. Everything was just slow. The 42 km skate leader, David Norris, passed me in the 42 km-only section, wearing a fox tail. Once we joined back up with the 21 km course things were more interesting. I was glad to have learned about all the hills the previous day. These are a doozy at 9,000 feet and I double poled wherever I could since double poling doesn’t spike my heart rate like striding. The 21 km classic race had started just 5 minutes before us and now I was passing up a bunch of these skiers (they had gotten ahead of me while I skied the extra 3 km section) which kept things interesting and they were skiing the track in for me.

This year the Alley Loop went cupless for the aid stations, although I only read this fine print a couple days before the race so hadn’t planned ahead. Hence I skied with my water pack and decided to make some super sugary coffee blend since these ingredients were available. I planned to take it on the wide downhill heading into town where I could first catch my breath. My drink was simply delicious as I’d really maxed out the sugar..

Next up was my first lap through town for which the Alley Loop is named. The course goes down an alley, back up Elk Avenue, and then through more alleys/streets to head back out on the trail. While this is obviously really cool, the snow was dirty and slow and between trying to ski fast, avoid the dirtiest snow, not run over anyone, or get run over myself by skaters, my mind was plenty occupied and I can’t say I really enjoyed the scenery although it was a good diversion from the usual trail. 

Alley Loop course and elevation profile from my Garmin.

As we left town there was crazy traffic. It turns out the 10 km rec division is incredibly popular by costumed skiers. The lap route out of town was almost completely flat, thankfully we didn’t have to climb up and over the starting hill, but it was so crazy passing so many people and then trying to stay out of the passing skaters way. The snow was still slow and now we were battling a headwind. I was exhausted and my right tricep tendons got sore. It’s like how I should’ve been feeling on the third lap, but this was only the second. Elspeth, everyone has to deal with the new snow and wind and altitude.

I wasn’t entirely sad to leave all the costumes behind and head out mostly on my own on the 42 km section. A handful of skaters slowly made their way by me as it was slow for them as well. I wondered why Erik hadn’t caught me yet. But double poling the gradual uphill was rough and I didn’t want to completely burn my arms out yet so I resorted to a shuffle stride. And then we hit the uphill section and my motto simply became: just keep moving. Of course this was easier because I didn’t see any women behind me.

I was happy to only have the hilly section one more time and to get back out on the gradual downhill (and pass back up some of the same skiers I’d passed before including a woman wearing boots with rainbow colored fur) but then it was a slog up the last hill before the downhill into town. By the time I took my second feed on that downhill, I realized I should’ve taken at least one more feed on that second loop because this was going to be a long race. It was just so slow that there was nowhere else good to take a feed without coming to a standstill (except for the steep hill with the right turn that would’ve been too treacherous).

I caught one male 42 km classic skier as we headed through town and then I headed out onto the flats by myself.

While I appreciated seeing all the costumes on my second lap, I think it was mentally more draining trying to pass so many people while being considerate of those trying to pass me. At least they had skied the track in well and I could just put my head down and try to hammer on that third lap. My tricep tendons weren’t bothering me any worse and I got through the section fast enough. Then we briefly headed down valley before turning back up valley on more gradual climbing. Back down to the yurt, then back up. Just keep moving. More 42 km skate women were passing me and finally as we squiggled around, I saw Erik, having a very slow race. At least then I knew he hadn’t had to drop out and he was OK.

Then it was up to the hills one last time, double poling wherever I could maintain enough momentum. I walked the steep uphills, but always pushed over the top with a few running strides and then into a strong double pole. The downhills seemed to be getting slower, especially on the farthest out part of the course where it was gently snowing. Soon enough I was past the gradual downhill and climbing back above town and then taking the descent back into town. There was one kinda steep one with a right corner at that bottom that by now was rather snow-I tried to double pole the alley and the gradual uphill finish on Elk Avenue with a bit more vigor than I had the two previous laps. I was definitely exhausted when I crossed the finish line in 3 hours and 22 minutes with a few 10 km skiers who had been out for some 2 hours. I was relieved to make the 3 hour 30 minute cut-off to get my special bell/medal although the finish line wasn’t very organized and I actually didn’t get said prize (or my age class award). Not sure if this is merely a blessing as I already have too much race crap!

Overall our team didn’t fare well. The others said they really felt the altitude and had slow skis (I had hot waxed mine before leaving home and hadn’t skied on them - the others all used spray wax) and the team division was way more competitive than last year with double the number of teams so we ended up 9 of 12 teams. 

The New Mexican cross-country skiers, including old friend Kristin from U of M days, fielded a few teams in the competition.

I had learned just a couple days before the race that there was actually prize money in the classic. I thought this was pretty crazy given the very small field but cool to get a big check for the third time in my ski racing career! 

 

Awkward big check photo by Erik



More Skiing in Crested Butte and Heading Home


Erik and I were super glad to spend a few more days in Crested Butte, especially since our first two were cloudy. Sunday morning dawned clear and since we were staying up by the downhill, Erik suggested we make use of the free uphill skiing before 8:45 am. I climbed 700 vertical feet up a green run, stopping multiple times to take in the spectacular vistas, particularly the view west, before I skidded my way down the run. Next up we headed into town to ski a bunch of trails on the east side under bluebird skies and mountain views. After lunch we skied farther up the valley that the race had been in, doing the CB loop twice. We missed some good scenery during the race with the low clouds. 

The view west as we skied up the Crested Butte downhill. Photo: Erik

 

The pointed top of Crested Butte mountain during our uphill ski. Note the fresh snow on the trees!

 

The rock face of Crested Butte from the trails on the east side of town.

 

Up the valley. It was cold in the shade and warm in the sun.

Monday Erik went downhill skiing while I did a run around town (I love looking at architecture) in the morning and skied on the free Town Ranch trails in the afternoon. There’s a ton of old bikes around Crested Butte that for the most part are unlocked and people were riding with their skis to the trails! The town is relatively small and with 4+ trailheads, it’s easy enough to walk to a ski trail. We stayed at the Old Town Inn on the south edge of town and had about a 200 meter road walk to access the closest ski trails. Not bad. I thoroughly enjoyed my ski on the Town Ranch Trails but think I made the right decision to classic as the tracks were pristine while the skate deck was a bit chewed up from paw prints. It was nice to ski on very flat terrain and be able to enjoy the amazing views. 

The old Crested Butte Jail circa 1883.

A fun garage in Crested Butte I found on my run.

 

One of the old bikes around town. Note the container for hauling skis!

Tuesday we started with Ruthie’s Run, an FIS homologated course above the Nordic center with plenty of uphills, although none were unpleasantly steep, and downhills, most of which were easily navigable but a couple required some good skid turns. In the afternoon we headed back to the east side to do Middle Earth and Mordor. I’d highly recommend Mordor counterclockwise as there is a brutally steep hill going the opposite direction that would be an incredibly intense downhill.

Wednesday we moved on to Salida, but first we did some 30-30 intervals on the flat and free Town Ranch trails. It was snowing again and I found that by doing these in the track, which was slower than the skate deck, it really brought up my heart rate. On our way to Salida, we stopped for a sledding adventure on Old Monarch Road. This involved an hour hike up the gradual road and then one incredible powder sled run directly down to our car that took 5 minutes. By the end I was hiking in snow that was crotch deep to get back up to the road.

 

Big mountains popping through the trees off Old Monarch Road.

Getting higher and hence better mountain photos before the clouds rolled in.

Thursday we did two different adventures. First, we climbed the hill directly above Salida marked with a big S on mountain bike trails (turns out that Salida which sits down in the valley around 7,000 feet, is a year-round mountain bike destination). Lacking enough motivation to climb something taller, we ended up doing a second hike on more mountain bike trails that only got us up to 7,780 feet. I guess this way we didn’t have to worry about any avalanche danger but I would’ve liked to hike through a bit more crotch-deep snow. Then we spent the night near Colorado Springs. 

Salida afternoon hike on mostly mountain bike trails.


 

Looking down on the old Salida train station from S Mountain above Salida.

Snowless valley on our afternoon hike.

 

View from the east side of the same mountains we had seen yesterday from Old Monarch Road.

Friday I began my day early with a run around Old Colorado City. By now we were down to 6,000 feet and I was both able to breath easier and run faster, although a dusting of new snow with some occasional ice still kept the pace down. Next we hiked all around Garden of the Gods. I was bummed that it was cloudy and snowing so we couldn’t see Pike’s Peak, jutting 8,000 feet above the valley with almost as much prominence as the Himalayan behemoths. I managed to overdress once again. Despite the snow coming down, I could see my shadow and began stripping clothes like mad. 

Snow at Garden of the Gods.

20 minutes later the snow had stopped, the sun was poking out, and I was roasting!!!

By noon we were back on the road, driving to the Kansas state high point, Mount Sunflower, before spending the night in Norton, Kansas. Saturday was our day off as we finished the drive home.

 

Selfie on the Kansas high point. If I've done my counting right, I'm now half done with the US high points.



Sunday we went back to the hamster loop at Hyland. I had intended to do intervals but simply ran into too many friends. Not a bad problem:)

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