Birkie 2020 was a wild ride and a wonderful time for catching up with friends and family that I don’t get to see nearly often enough. It all starts with my mom who completed her 32nd Birkie on Saturday. I’m only 45 and that race keeps me up at night. But every year mom pulls on her knee braces to protect her two surgically repaired ACLs and gets up at 4:30AM to do battle on the hills north of “OO.”
But I’m getting ahead of myself, let me back up.
This year was a much better year for preparation than 2019. In 2019 we got so much snow in February that many people forget we didn’t get ANY snow all through January. To make matters worse, I got knocked out with an infection right when the snow came and was forced to eat antibiotics like they were Skittles (and I hate Skittles).
But this year not only have we had consistently great snow, we’ve also had consistently great temperatures. Normally you have to struggle through some long, miserable skis that start at about -14 and then only get worse. It’s only on those days when it’s sunny and 25 that you think, “Oh yeah, there once was a time…long ago…when I found this sport to be extremely enjoyable, fun even.”
Two weeks ago Dan Campion called me up to go ski 30K on the Birkie trail, then I followed that up with another 30K ski with Nate Jackson. I got to know Nate because I won the “Christmas Memories” competition for the Country Today and he called me up for an interview. It’s always awesome to meet new skiers, and Nate had a great race up at Birkie 2020 this weekend (so did Dan).
I was feeling good about two consecutive 30K skis on the Birkie trail when disaster struck. My zipper blew out of my 10 year old Rossignol boots. Now, I realize 10 years is a long time, but I happen to believe a zipper should be designed to last forever. I wasn’t really inclined to spend $500 on a new pair of boots just to replace a $3 zipper. That’s the kind of thing that has me flapping my arms and squawking like Donald Duck.
So, I turned to Google and found a boot repair store in Eau Claire, it was literally called “The Shoe Repair Store” or something. I walked in with my boot and the guy said, “Oh, we don’t do zippers.”
Seriously? Isn’t that like 50% of boot repair?
But, he was helpful and gave me a card for a sewing shop. So I went to the sewing shop and handed them my boot.
“Naw, we can’t do it, we can only sew things that lay flat.”
ARGHHHH!!!
The next step was to search those “off the beaten path” places that you have to drive down a gravel road lined with pine trees and old refrigerators to find. I called a couple up. They said things like, “Well, I don’t know if I can fix it until I see it.”
“Can I send you a picture?”
“No, we don’t use any of that newfangled technology.”
Eventually, I found a guy in Bloomer. The store is called “Wandas Shoe Repair.” I like how they don’t use an apostrophe, it kind of evens out all the other places that use one when they shouldn’t. The guy running the place wasn’t named Wanda, in fact, there was no Wanda there to my knowledge much less multiple Wandas as suggested by the name. Maybe she (they?) sold them the shop but kept the apostrophe as part of the deal.
Because the shop was in Bloomer, they knew Dave Landgraf of course. So we chatted about Dave for a while and then they told me they could fix my boot. As I was leaving, it occurred to me that they hadn’t quoted me a price. I wondered how much I was going to have to pay, but concluded that as long as it was less than a new pair of boots it’d be alright.
An hour later the call came, “We got your boot done.”
“Great, what do I owe you?”
“Eight Dollars.”
Seriously? You can’t even by seven dollars for eight dollars! When I went to pick up my boot I tried to pay them $10, but he wouldn’t take it. So, if any of you have any zippers on clothing or shoes, let me enthusiastically recommend Wandas Shoe Repair in Bloomer. Also, leave them a review…good things happen when you leave reviews.
Boot in hand (er, foot) I was ready for Birkie 2020. This year my wife is enrolled in a college program which meets once a month for Friday/Saturday sessions. Of course they scheduled the class for Birkie weekend because nothing can ever just work out in life. Fortunately some friends volunteered to watch my little ones and my cousin Will volunteered to drive me to the race and pick me up at the finish.
I was tempted to tell him that I’d be missing the kiss my beautiful wife usually has waiting for me when I cross the line, but knowing cousin Will, I figured he’d find it hilarious to plant one on me just for the sake of tradition…so I didn’t tell him.
I went up to the race a day early to get my packet. This would be Birkie 17 for me, and the bib needed a 17 sticker so I could get the correct pin at the finish. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice until I got home that they gave me sticker number 6.
6!
That was worthless! It took me a while to fully comprehend the calamity that had befallen me. I started by drawing a “1” in front of the “6” and still came up one short of “17.” So I took a picture of my bib and number and packet with some clear sharpie instructions, and sent it off to several friends to see if they could get me the right sticker. Then I set about erasing the “6” with paint and drawing in a “7.” The result was perfect:
Okay, it might not seem like a big deal, but basically I’m only doing these races for the pins, and I needed the right one. Also, I anticipated that I wouldn’t have time or energy at the end of the race to fight somebody over getting the right pin.
“Your sticker says 6 sir.”
“But I need number 17…”
“I’m sorry sir, we have to give you the number that is listed on your bib.”
Why does everything in the world have to be obnoxious like that? Everybody always has to follow all these stupid rules, regulations, and protocols. That would be fine, I suppose, except that everyone also screws up which sticker they give you.
I’d just gotten all worked up again, when my first rescuer sent me a message, “Hey, I got your sticker!”
A short time later I got a second message. “Hey, I got your sticker, the lady at the desk said she could have sworn she saw that same picture of your bib and race packet before.”
Yeah, I sent TWO people in to correct the issue. Redundancy. It works great, helps eliminate mistakes. It’s a good procedure to implement for tasks like applying stickers to Birkie bibs.
Later that evening, I was able to rip off my Frankenstein paint and sharpie monstrosity, and apply a beautiful, pristine, and CORRECT Birkie number.
But actually, that was the last hardship of the whole day. The race was awesome, it was warm but subfreezing temperatures throughout the week left a firm, hard deck. At the first aid station I took off my hat and gloves because I was getting too hot. I’ve never taken off my gloves in a Birkie before and probably never will again.
I felt good skiing and at about 35K the math seemed to indicate I could finish in 4 hours. I hadn’t skied one that fast since 2013 so I decided to do my best to get there. Unghh, Birkie math starts becoming miserable when you are exhausted. Also, the terrain varies so much you’ll find yourself shooting ahead, then lagging way behind your target pace. You’ll fight hard to earn back a minute over a 5km stretch only to lose 10 minutes on a 300 meter climb.
That hill after Rosie’s field just killed me and I thought I wasn’t going to get there on time, especially with the hills after Highway 70. But somehow I managed to maintain a steady pace all the way up the 70 hill. I hammered the last hill with the Dave Landgraf statue (well, “hammered” is a relative term, but it was as fast as I could go).
By the time I got to the lake, I calculated I had to average 5 minutes per kilometer to get in under four. My GPS said I was going along steadily at under 4 minutes per kilometer, but I was worried I might turn into a quivering mass on the International bridge and burn up any time gain I might have earned on the lake. This is probably the kind of thing people like Caitlin Compton-Gregg are thinking as they go across the lake…
I came off the lake and as I headed into the curve just before the climb up the bridge I saw cousin Will.
“Hey, I have a beer for you!” he said.
“Bring it to the end,” I replied, still worried about finishing. I guess that response cost Will some money because he’d bet the people around him that I’d take it. If my time had already been 4:00:01 I would have. That’s the weird psychology of racing. I hope he knew enough to open the beer. Nothing makes me madder that when somebody hands off an unopened beer! This Birkie racing stuff is serious, I don’t have the time to stop and crack my own beer! C’mon folks, store that nugget away for future reference!
So then it was up the bridge, down the other side, happy I didn’t fall down in front of thousands of people. Then I did my best to finish as quickly as possible. I looked at my watch as I crossed the line, at just under 3:58!
Awesome! Hey, it’s not the best time in the world, but it’s the best I’ve done since 2013, so I’ll take it! Birkie 17 is in the books. I made sure to check that the girl stapled the correct pin to my chest and she did. Every Birkie is a grand achievement no matter how long it takes you. It’s always sweet to get in just under the next hour! Congratulations to everyone who finished and thanks to the organizers and volunteers. What a great day!
Pulling off a race of this magnitude is an enormous achievement, especially when you have snarky folks complaining about the sticker on their Bib 🙂 The American Birkebeiner is a way of life, and the way I look at it, training for Birkie 2021 has already begun! See you there!
Check out ‘Beyond Birkie Fever‘ for some more great Birkie stories and be sure to write a review (good things happen)! Also, I still have a few promotional audio book codes, send me a message if you are interested and I’ll respond with the details.
