Mesabi 2015

Mesabi, Mesabi, what pre-race weather drama will you present us with this year? Ahhh...just wind chill advisories and a delayed start. We can deal with that.

The first and only real scare of the trip came within the first minute of the trip. I glanced out door six’s windows and my stomach dropped, the bright yellow of a school bus with trailer burned my retinas, noooooo!!! The wrong bus was ordered, end me!  Cory suppressed my panic attack, “it’s for the band trip.” Life is dreamy on the coach bus. With one three hour trip this season on a school bus the appreciation level goes back up as we board a coach this time around. The temp drops steadily with each hour of northward latitude gain, but my heart warms with each additional inch of snow that is seen along the roadside and in the forest.

This year marks a transition from the old guard skiers to the new at Mesabi. Some students wrapping up five or six year stints of making the northward trek to Americas biggest high school Nordic ski race. The wisdom, mystique and legend now gets passed on to the new generation of skiers here at Tech. The Mesabi experience is one I think you will always fall in love with; the travel, trails, atmosphere, competition, team camaraderie, the name Mesabi becomes something you love…segue Dylan lyrics, I have to keep the streak alive.

Well, if you’re travelin’ in the north country fair

Where the winds hit heavy on the borderline

Remember me to one who lives there

She once was a true love of mine

We’re greeted at Giants Ridge with a sign on the door declaring due to extreme wind chills the Ridge will be closing at 4:30 today. Not super welcoming, but for snow starved skiers it’s merely a friendly reminder to put a bit of Vaseline on nose and cheeks. Ma nature offered up a gruel slap to the face as you clipped-in to start your ski. North winds charge down the exposed downhill base and start area of the Nordic trails. Once the shelter of the trails were found the stagnate legs and lungs from the bus ride were freed and skiing bliss was found.  The ever present kick wax fixation or mania was alleviated with the cold. Kicking seemed possible with glide wax. Kick wax was going to be a no brainer, yes please!

Dinner is always an interesting part of the evening; Insert Sawmill bar room reservations, as the dining room was full. Good memories were a certainty. Lesson one: bar stools aren’t all that comfortable. Lesson two: Reservation cards placed on tables include your phone number. Thanks for making the reservation call Ari, sorry for all the late night calls! Lesson three: pool skills always come in handy. Cory looking for some pre-race competition asked if I’d like to join him in a game, why not. Lesson four: keep your eye on the cue ball when breaking. My break, and I nip the top of the cue ball sending it trickling down the table with just enough speed to gently tap the racked balls, giving me my loudest cheers and jeers of the season. Needing to save face I put my geometry skills to work cleaning the table in timely fashion. To the-what I’ll say was admiration-of the team. Lesson five: you see the warm naivety of high school students when an automatic gratuity is added to large group dinner tabs. Off to the Coates!

Coates Plaza, the Range’s finest hotel experience. Such gusto from the team for our return trip here this year.  The team levied zero in the way of drama, so appreciated. Most wandered the labyrinth of hallways and sitting areas. There seemed to be some sort of large group chanting from a group of skiers on the balcony looking over the pool area. Hey, whatever it takes to channel your inner Mesabi. The TV’s aren’t flat screen and still preserve that static crisp clarity of antennas. Multiple public access channels are still included in your cable package. A time gone by is a lesson taught here for free.  The only oddity, but it is the Coates so maybe not, was the screaming that seemed to wake me and a few others at either 11:30 or 2a.m. no one really knows for sure.

Race Day: the delayed start makes for a post sunrise wake up for most. A key ingredient to a successful morning high school wake up call.  The team volunteer and I made for the local café. Main Street could have been desolation row on this Saturday morning. Bank thermometers flashed -17. Not a soul out, just one car parked two blocks down Main Street. South facing store front roofs just caught the suns glow, helping restrain the brick and mortar bleakness. Enter the Royal Café, 50’s aqua blue, white tile, chrome trim and blue collar patina. Iron Range cuisine at its finest. Butter with a side of breakfast please: eggs, thick bacon strips and 12 inch diameter pancakes, triple cup of coffee. Game on. With a small part of my arteries now blocked and my growing affection for Range life at a premium it was time to get things rolling. Back at the Coates warmth and energy radiated from the lobby as skiers from multiple schools packed and made for buses.

At Giants Ridge the air was crisp, temps leaned hard to get to the legal limit of -4 but the sunshine with not a breath of wind made all the difference. Skis were prepped and the only goose bumps were from the Star Spangled Banner as racing kicked off.

Early morning quote that captures the essence of a late skate time. “Have you seen the freshman girls? They look like they’re at some ones funeral!” I guess that’s the look one gets with a daunting six hour layover before you race; only arcade machines for companions, a cold wind from opening doors and unsettling nerves from the biggest race of the year look you straight in the face.  Each one of your fellow teammates is in and out with excitement, on a post race high while the sun slowly sets behind Giants Ridge. Is it my turn yet?

Kaethe set the record for most steps pacing. Katie wins longest warm-up. Ricky gets an award for flip-flopping. Morning;“I want a race, I want to race!” Race time; “do I have to race?” The beauty of race nerves. Early morning skiers came in with smiles for miles, best feeling as a Coach. Everyone happy with their race and proud of their effort. Afternoon skates time were tight, tenths of a second making differences. Racers uncertainties in performance were eased as results came in. With teeth chattering and bodies froze to the core, finished skiers cheered on our dawn to dusk freshman skiers! With hair, hats and buffs wisped in frost, true stories of mêlée were shared. Kendra exclaimed she snow plowed with her face at the bottom of one hill and nearly stabbed another skier with a pole as she crawled out of the woods. Nordic life is rough. Cloaked in capes and mounting darkness we made for the chalet.

I have to cut and paste the next bit. It holds true every year. I can only share in the background that surrounds the weekend. The skiers make the stories.

I’d love to go into more details, but each skier fought their own battle once again and has their own story. I only escorted their nervous energy to the start gate, sharing words of wisdom and resounding confidence in their ability and saw the joy, pain and elation at the finish line. Everything in between is for them to share.

All along the yellow and white classic track home I think, or hoped, minds wandered with renewed enthusiasm for what hard training has accomplished so far; along with self reflection as to what may be possible during the remainder of the season, and maybe the most pressing question of all, “when are we stopping to eat?”

Thanks everyone for another incredible Mesabi trip!