Cross-country Skiing Christmas Present

     It was 11 below zero the first night of my Christmas present from my son, Ela: three days of cross-country skiing with him in Methow Valley, in the north Cascades. 

    Or course, it wasn't quite that cold the afternoon we got there—just above zero, maybe. We went straight to the rental shop, rented skis for Ela, booked a private lesson for the next day, grabbed a map of ski trails, and took off on our skis.

    At first I was disappointed. It was so flat! I wanted hills, and although the flat, snowy field was beautiful, the skiing was boring. But when we got to the hills and the woods, my spirits rose. Now it was really beautiful, and the skiing was challenging and fun. I was in my element.

I am the figure in white, in my element.

    After an hour's warm-up ski on the flat the next morning, we met Eric, our ski instructor, at a different trailhead.

    Skiing at Methow is either skate skiing (not my cup of tea) or classic cross-country—on groomed trails, in tracks, suited for the skis Ela had rented. I have backcountry skis, suited to the kind of skiing I usually do but too wide for the set tracks at Methow.  I told Eric that what I really wanted was tips for backcountry skiing, and he had plenty for me. Push from the straps of your poles, not from the grip. Swing from the shoulder. Don't flick your wrist. Never equalize your weight on the skis going uphill. He showed me how to swivel my hips to make turns on the downhill. He showed Ela, who, though a good snowboarder and a pretty good novice telemarker, is new to cross-country skiing, how to lift one ski out of the track to slow himself on the downhill. He took us off-trail to demonstrate techniques in deep snow.

    The special thing about skiing at Methow, Eric told us, was not the amount of snow but that it is so cold that the snow never melts and the skiing is always good on the groomed trails.

    When the lesson was over, Ela and I kept skiing, heading up Doe Canyon, by far my favorite of the five or six trails we skied those three days. Up and up and up, climbing hills, until we were far above the river valley, then a glorious fast downhill, on the wide groomed trail, swishing side to side, all the way to the river again

    After a late lunch at our cabin, we went out again, this time skiing out the back door of the cabin to the trailhead and onto the hills up Jack'sTrail, not as steep as Doe Canyon, but still pretty good.

    Our last day at Methow we were out skiing early. It was zero degrees. Not another soul was out. My nose hairs froze. Ela's hair was frosted from his breath. We skied fast, warming up, relishing the sunny spots, by the river, through the woods, over the glorious snow.    

    We skied six times in our three days at Methow. We started every morning with Ela's good coffee and ended it with good pub food. We thrilled to the bright cold weather, the beautiful snow, the fun skiing. Now it was time to pack up and leave. Ela drove us carefully over the icy, snow-swirling passes through the Cascades back to his home on Vashon Island. The next morning I took the ferry to Tacoma and then the train to Eugene and drove home from there.

    It was the best Christmas present ever—the wonderful skiing, the sparkling cold weather, the learning and the practice, all that beautiful snow, and the ever delightful companionship of my son. 

Stopping to view Goat Wall in the sun.

    Thanks, Ela. It was fabulous.

(All photos by Ela Lamblin)