Tales from the White Side
Updated excerpts from the Latest edition of the Nordic News
The Flying Scotsman
By Jimmy Donaldson
Jimmy Donaldson spent the Northern Hemisphere winter training at Silver Star in Canada, and then competing in a number of World Loppet races in Europe and at the Masters’ World Cup in Austria. Jimmy kept his friends in New Zealand fully informed of his experiences, via e-mail. Following is an extract of those e-mails.
First stop Silver Star, Canadaﾅ
“Silver Star is at a similar altitude to Waiorau, and it benefits from having over 100 km of Nordic trails open in early November. The downhill aspect doesn't swing in to action until mid December. So, early season is Nordic season, and a race programme and series of training camps attract skiers from all over North America, and New Zealand!
I took a couple of private lessons; the best by far was with June Hawkins, who runs a venture called ‘Sun on Snow'. In general, I clocked in a lot of hours, and learned that although my knee (& only my knee!), will never let me ski like Bjorn Daehlie that you can only work with what you have.
The temperatures were extraordinarily low during my last week. Skiing at -20° was different, I don't carry wax for those temperatures and it was so slow. Water bottles froze, camel backs were useless, and I could barely force my mitts through my pole straps. The trails were quiet, however, and the scenery was wonderful.”
Next stop Italy and the Marcialongaﾅ
“Been there, done it, which I accept is not a very healthy attitude, but despite my best efforts, it was one which developed through the actual event. If you have been here, you may empathise. Maybe you had a different experience, however, and maybe (just imagine!) it is my perceptions and expectations that need to be realigned.
I arrived in Italy a few days before the event and had a reasonable look at the course and the set up for the Loppet. None-the-less, I was unable to mentally prepare for thousands of skiers charging for their part on a 2m wide, 70 km long, white conveyor belt.
The event was extremely well organised. A great deal of work went in to preparing the track, and although there wasn’t a great deal of snow, the track was well presented and maintained to last the duration. The race logistics were impressively efficient. There was regular feeding, medical support and ski pole replacement along the route. Kit bags, which had been dumped at the start area, were waiting in numerical order for collection in a competitor only “servicing” area at the finish, where there were more hot energy drinks, pastas, fruits, and breads than the 5000 competitors could consume.
I feel compelled to compliment the spectators. They were great, and there were lots off them along the length of the course, loud, generous and enthusiastic. Many had programmes and picked out names against bib numbers, and shouted to you. It was in Italian, but I assumed it was encouragement! In the last 10km, one particular humanitarian insisted on pushing me up an ice climb, I think his frustration, in seeing my repeatedly slide back, got the better of him.
After I had done all one does after a 70 km ski: fed, watered (from my camel back), collected the diploma, had the passport stamped, tripped over my face, I took a bus the 30km journey to where I was staying. As I was getting off, I could see a stream of skiers on the track; they had been going for 6 hours and hadn’t reached the half way.
“Gulp”, and that was an involuntary big gulp of the humility pill. I went straight over to encourage them. Some of these brave souls, including the Saracen and the Franciscan Monk, whom I presume were in fancy dress, did not look in good shape, and were unlikely to make the cut-offs. I drove straight back in to the finish at Calvese and joined the still enthusiastic crowds to applaud and acknowledge the spirit of the athletes finishing the course. I don’t mind saying that the lump was still in my throat seeing the tremendous effort some had to put in to climb the final hill after 7 or 8 hours skiing. It put me in my place; I hope I can still do that when I am 30!
So, for me a few lessons to be learned, and they are not all to do with skiing, but then, isn’t it that skiing isn’t all to do with skiing?
ﾅ.And then to Germany and the Knig- Ludwig-Lauf
It took only a few hours to drive from Italy, through Austria, and on to Oberammergau, famous for its once every ten-year Passion Play production. The area is very scenic, with numerous fairy tale castles and Bavarian ‘old worldly’ towns, buildings and “kultur”. Understandably, it is a holiday destination, and cross country is popular, but at an altitude of only 800m, this tends to be ‘recreational’ touring in tracks, but better skating facilities are within driving range.
The event is over two days, first is the freestyle Loppet and a 23 km event, which start together. Classic is on the following day, same course but with separate starts. Over 3000 skiers in all events, and some skied on both days. I nearly started my introduction to classic, but the Atomic agent wouldn’t let me borrow the kit on the second day – “ honest.” There was a huge international presence, and particularly noticeable were the number of skiers from Eastern Europe. The Australian team, who had been training in Europe for some time, were present as were a good number of Aussie Loppet hunters.
Unfortunately, the standard 55km Knig Ludwig was reduced to a generally flat 46km, as a precaution due to a lack of snow. - 9 km less, same entry fee – and that’s fine by me! The new course was basically; a 5km start, two 18km loops, and 5 km back to the start/finish. As it happened it snowed every day on the week before and no less than 40 cm the night before the event.
With experience from Marcialonga, I turned up early to complete a minimum warm up, and have half an hour to find a reasonable start position. Alas that was still too late. The start was split in to two areas. The first being for skiers who finished in the top 100 last year, top ranked racers, and a few sly foxes who managed to slip in. The rest of us did what we could, which wasn’t a lot, but the gamesmanship was evident. I could only secure a position near the entry gate. After last week, my attitude was better prepared, with more accurate expectations.
The race had been going for some time before I could move. After 3 km the rush stopped as the race experienced a huge bottleneck, leaving the open area in to a wood and on to a 2m track, to become a single file ski tour. The new snow was good news, as I am terrible on ice, but passing was difficult; deep snow on track, deeper still off track, and no classic tracks cut. The first lap was a series of short bursts forward when possible. Clearly a lot of skiers knew that the first 3 km was vital to their race, and consequently achieved a good start position, and then went as fast as possible, until they couldn’t keep it up, but by then they held the ground!
The second lap was surprising different; the field was more spread, the snow was hard packed and fast, and the procession of skaters had created a ridge in the middle sloping to each side. For me this was precarious, and demanded concentration. I had a few mishaps when the skis decided to travel east or west when I was facing north, but I didn’t break a pole! It is a mystery how all those around me seem to manage!
At about 35 km the catch up stopped and a group formed for the remaining distance. Despite my best efforts I couldn’t make an impression and get ahead. I just didn’t have the speed, power, technique or what ever was required to push on. Physically, I didn’t feel too bad but I couldn’t transfer what was left in to speed. I was skiing as fast as I could, which was really as fast as I dared to on that surface.
The event was won in 2 hrs, with five skiers under 2.10 hrs, including Australian Ben Derrek, who finished fifth. Robert Curtis, who won the Muster in 1999, achieved an eleventh place with 2.13 hrs. There were 32 skiers below 2.20 hrs, 80 below 2.30 hrs and another 70 below 2.40 hrs. I managed to squeeze in to this group with 2.39 and 143 place.
The immediate ‘post match repair’ was held in a near by gymnasium, the local community rallied to provide as much: black bread cheese and ham sandwiches, fruit, chicken broth, beer and chocolate than any one could want. I went wild and risked all the nutritional value chocolate offers.
Another Loppet: good location, well organised, multi-national, and with the possibility to have a day’s skiing in each discipline, or a day speculating as the case may be. It is a lovely area, and not just for skiing. Ski prices here are extremely attractive too; one shop had sale prices for Fischer RCS or Atomic Beta at around $100!
Some of the lessons from Marcialonga were confirmed. First and foremost was to approach the event to enjoy it, and second was the value of a good start position in order to ski as well as one might wish. There must be something else, some lesson, some secret, a special wax, or wonder fuel, that all those in front of me use, but maybe I’ll get closer to finding out what ever that is after my next event.
And the last Loppet the Engadin
The 33rd Engadin, 42 km Ski Marathon took place in the best possible conditions as tradition has it on the 2nd Sunday of the Month, 11 March 2001. From the start on the lake at Majola, (1820m) the course zips through St Moritz down to the finish at S-Chanf (1670m). As many as 15 000 participants of all standards and nationalities can be attracted to what must be the easiest Loppet; wide straight tracks, spring sunshine, good snow, generally flat although the course drops150m in altitude, and no technical accents or descents. (I didn’t say that I didn’t tumble).
The course can be regarded as having three parts. First is 15 km on a lake, followed by 10km on gentle undulating track, somewhat narrower, and finally, the 17km “sprint” to the finish, by this stage there is hope that there will be more space.
I arrived two days before the start. On day one, I recced the middle part of the course. I was surprised to find climbs, and thought the course might be tougher than what had been suggested. On day two, I visited the “ Village” in St Moritz. Numerous ski and sports companies had set up merchandise stalls in a tented village around the registration centre. It was exciting to be amongst so many skiers, shopping, eating, or just ‘ chewing the fat’. In the afternoon, I ventured on to the lake at the start area in Maloja. Conditions were perfect, I had wondered if it would be ice, but it was well-groomed firm snow. I couldn’t believe the speed and ease with which I reached the 10 km marker. Morale soared, as I sensed the prospect of a fast 42 km. My head ignored the conditions, in particular the wind assistance, and I even began to wonder what I was doing differently. However, this passed, as it wasn’t nearly as quick going back!
It has been said before, “ A good start position is vital”. Come the big day, I decided to be ready to go 30 minutes before the start, which should enable me to find a reasonable position. Racers are started in waves seeded on the basis of previous Engadin, World Loppet, or other race times. I was in the third category, the largest group, due to start ten minutes after the first wave.
The start area was as busy and as frantic as a start area for 15 000 would be, but I arrived with over an hour to prepare. After a gentle warm up ski on the lake, I made my way to the start pen, and ventured to find the kit bag dump. Kit was transported to the finish in colour coded, bib numbered plastic sacks. At previous events these were dumped at the side of the start pens; but this was not the case in Switzerland. I followed directions for a long way. I even had to break in to a run, which turned out to be the furthest run I’ve had for years! I eventually returned to the pen to find and fit my skis, as a three minute warning was announced. My pulse was racing, I was anxious, and I was also right at the very back, behind thousands of skiers. Consequently, I would have plenty of opportunity to recover from my unplanned warm up!
Ces had told me that in the previous year he had double poled for most of the race. I had thought, “ fair enough, not necessarily my favourite mode”, there was no choice, however. For what felt like a long time after the start, there was no let up in congestion, it was impossible to ski. Fortunately, I spied the classic tracks and used my new Euro experience to cut in front of whom ever. Double poling in tracks was the solution, I moved faster than the masses although I wondered how long I could keep it up. Shortly before the10 km marker, which I had raced to on the day before, I cut from the tracks in to the main flow, where despite my best efforts, I was still behind hundreds from my start group, including a group of blokes in wedding dresses.
The middle phase was nearly uneventful. The climbs are not taxing in fact they are rest opportunities, due to the queues, and I adopted a Sunday ski tour approach, but made sure to shout, “ UP, UP, UP” as if in a terrible rush, it seemed to harass the locals. I was disappointed at the down hill section to discover skiers, who were even less proficient than myself. I had never been held up on down hills before! I slipped in to the classic tracks and let go, until the bloke in front wiped out. I ended up upside down, inside out in the middle of the skate area, with skiers shrieking war cries as the whizzed past. It must have been what Custer experienced at Little Big Horn.
The final stretch was different all together. Clearly, apart from the double poling muscles the experience hadn’t been that physical. Pockets of space started to appear, and it was a chance to let go. The conditions couldn’t have been better. It just feels so good passing all those people, - even if you have to push the children and old ladies out of the way to get ahead!
Groups formed, but didn’t last, as skiers; stopped at feeding stations, fell behind, or were obstructed by other skiers. I was able to invest 42km worth of energy into the final 20km, and I passed under the finish line clock at 2.08 something. A short while later I began to realise that the clock might have been started to time the first waves, which was 10 minutes before me. Isn’t it strange how much difference a few minutes can make?
Initially, I was pleased with the idea of a sub 2 hour time, even if it was by the skin of my teeth. Later, a skier who had completed the race half a dozen times told me, that conditions were so good that he also had gone under 2 hours for the first time, and he hadn’t trained this year! More than sixteen hundred skiers were also under the 2 hour threshold.
So, the event finished quicker than it had started. Like so many of the Loppets, experience of the course and the event circumstances is beneficial. The experience of feeling as if I was skiing so fast on some of the final parts of the race was exhilarating. Probably more so, as it came after I had resigned my self to being in a huge pack and to just enjoy a ski tour as much as possible. For this alone, it was a good day out, and I would be keen to ski the Engadin again.
The Early Days at Ruapehu
Skiing started in the central North Island just before the First World War. Two young railway employers, William Mead and Bernard Drake, based in Ohakune, had been learning about the difficulties of ploughing through deep snow on foot. After suffering mild frostbite on one occasion they decided that skis might be the order of the day. They sent to Zurich for skis and to England for E.C. Richardson’s new book on ski-running (old term for cross-country skiing)!
Armed with the right equipment they set off for Waihohonu Hut, off the Desert Road. On the 27 July 1913 skis to Ruapehu for the first time. The initial trial was made on the slopes leading to Tama Saddle. In no time at all the two pioneers were soon making extended ski tours including the first assent to Crater Lake. Delighted with their new experience, they decided to form a club. On 31 July 1913 they formally posted a notice in the Waihohonu Hut announcing the formation at the Ruapehu Ski Club. The first annual general meeting was held next winter, despite the outbreak of war. All five present were to play a large part in opening up Ruapehu to skiing. They included the Mead brothers and Bill Salt.
A few years later the influence of club members was decisive in persuading the Government to switch the centre of activities to the Whakapapa area. Within ten years of the introduction of skis, the first club hut was built. Glacier Hut still stand today on Hut Flat. However, much of the early activity on the mountain, up until the Second World War, was lower down the mountain at Scoria Flat, where skiers would gather at Salt Hut, having walked up the hill from the Chateau.
The Ruapehu Ski Club held the first organised ski race in 1923 and Tararua Tramping Club began in 1926. All races in those days were cross-country ski races. The rules were simple and included: “Sticks may be carried, skis must be worn throughout. A competitor falling must remount where fallen and recover a dropped stick, finishing with the same equipment as on starting”
The first New Zealand Championships were held in 1929 by the Ruapehu Ski Club, who conducted them for the following two years. Thereafter they passed to national control. The Federated Mountain Clubs had been formed in 1930, and it delegated skiing to its Ski Council, set up in 1932. That year the Ruapehu Ski Club conducted the championships on behalf of the Council. From then on the nationals were held in the North and South Islands on alternate years.
All the early nationals were cross-country races. Within a few years the championships grew to include cross-country, jumping, downhill and slalom. The place getters in the first nationals were B.S. Barnes 1st, R Murie 2nd and K Tompkins 3rd. The cross-country nationals were held every second at Ruapehu until 1962 year (exception two occasions when they were held at Mt Taranaki) when they ceased due to lack of interest, and were not held again until the cross-country revival at Waiorau in the 1980s.
| Skier Name | Nat. | Time |
Place
|
| Marcialonga, Italy, 70km freestyle | |||
| 28.01.2001 | |||
| Jimmy Donaldson | NZL | 3:55:52 |
661, 44% behind winner
|
| Knig-Ludwig-Lauf, Germany 46km freestyle | |||
| 03.02.2001 | |||
| Jimmy Donaldson | NZL |
2:39:23 |
143, 32% behind the winner
|
| Engadin Skimarathon, Switzerland, 42km freestyle | |||
| 11.03.2001 | |||
| Jimmy Donaldson | NZL | 1:58:21 | 652, 40% behind the winner |
| Masters World Cup, Mariazell, Austria | ||||
| February 28 to March 9, 2001 | ||||
| 20km freestyle | ||||
| Andrew McCullough | Aus | 1:38:33 | 10/14 | M70-74 |
| Bill Hamilton | Aus | 1:39:23 | 11/14 | M70-74 |
| 15km freestyle | ||||
| Stan McDonald | Aus | 53:05 | 41/44 |
M60-64 |
| Andrew McCullough | Aus |
1:00:48 |
16/20 | M70-74 |
| Bill Hamilton | Aus | 1:04:01 | 19/20 | M70-74 |
| Len Harrison | Aus | 1:03:28 | 09/10 | M75-79 |
| 10km Freestyle | ||||
| Stan McDonald | Aus |
38:01 |
41/44 | M60-64 |
| Andrew McCullough | Aus | 41:23 | 15/18 | M70-74 |
| Bill Hamilton | Aus |
41:33 |
16/18 | M70-74 |
| Len Harrison | Aus | 43:42 | 08/09 | M75-79 |
Many visitors to Waiorau over the past couple of years would have noticed a very strong and fast female skier, often in Norwegian national uniform. Last year, Jannike Oeyen was quietly going about the business of training for the upcoming northern season, with the hope of competing for Norway in the World Cup. She trained twice a day most days, and during local races she would beat all the men easily.
Jannike was rewarded with some great results in the northern winter. She scored World Cup points on three occasions.
18th Classic sprint at Asiago, (ITA)
12th Freestyle sprint at Nove Mesto (CZE)
24th 15km freestyle at Kavgolova (RUS)
Other noticeable results included:
5th 10km Norwegian Nationals
2nd Relay Norwegian Nationals
The result in the Norwegian Nationals was exceptional considering the huge depth of talent in Norway, and the fact that there were twelve Norwegian women ahead of Jannike in the World Cup rankingsﾅﾅ Congratulations Jannike!
The start of a cross-country ski race, Mt Ruapehu, 1930
Start of the women’s race, Mt Ruapehu, 1930
