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Cross-Country Ski Workout
The body has plenty to say in a class at Yosemite.
by
Guy Keeler
Fresno Bee - January 24, 2005
The full-body mutiny begins seconds after the young Badger Pass ski instructor uses the dreaded four-letter F-word.
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| Jason Serda, center, watches as Guy Keeler begins to descend a shallow slope along a cross-country ski trail through the forest at Yosemite National Park. Eric Paul Zamora / The Fresno Bee |
"All good skiers fall," says Jason Serda, 26.
"Did you hear that, Brain?" pulses an urgent message from Sacroiliac. "If the good ones fall, where does that leave us?"
"Probably in traction," deadpans Lumbar Vertebrae III. "Was Common Sense consulted before you decided to make this trip?"
"From the get-go," replies Brain. "I also ran it by Risk Management and the Adrenaline Department. They say cross- country skiing will be good for all of us. We'll have endorphins out the wazoo by the time we're done."
"Which we'll need to dull the pain," moans Gluteus Maximus.
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| Serda explains the differences between cross-country and downhill skis to Charlotte Sines and her boyfriend, David Smith. Eric Paul Zamora / The Fresno Bee |
"Relax," urges Brain. "People from the central San Joaquin Valley go cross-country skiing all the time on specially groomed trails in the Sierra. You get a good workout, enjoy lots of scenery, and there are no lift tickets to buy."
"Whoa," creaks Left Knee. "I'm willing to be flexible here. But holy patella, Brain, you heard the teacher. There's no skiing without falling. If we go down, I'll get crunched."
"Enough," snaps Brain. "We can do this if we work together. Cross-country skiing is like hiking in snow. We don't have to ride the ski lift. There won't be any wild-eyed snowboarders or downhillers to show us up. Best of all, we'll be looking at the trees, not running into them." With order temporarily restored, Brain pauses to take stock. He has led his 57-year-old collection of muscle, bone and fat cells to a cross-country skiing class for beginners at Badger Pass in Yosemite National Park. There are two others in the class: Charlotte "Charlie" Sines, 46, and David L. Smith, 44, both of Yosemite Valley.
Brain has left nothing to chance. Clothing is layered to provide warmth or cooling as needed. There's a stocking cap for Ears, a scarf for Neck, thermal underwear for Legs, sweater and jacket for Torso and waterproof gloves for Hands and Fingers. Jacket and scarf can come off if things get too hot.
Skis, poles and boots have been dispensed with care by Paul Schow of the Badger Pass Cross-Country Ski Center. Cross-country skis are long and thin (about 2 inches wide) and should reach from the floor to a point about the middle of the skier's forehead, Schow says.
Two chair lifts are operating at Badger Pass, with skiers and snowboarders gliding down steep slopes thick with snow. But the teaching area for the cross-country skiing class appears wonderfully flat. Perhaps, Brain reasons, there will be no falling today.
"All right, Eye," Brain demands, "What's our situation?"
"It's beautiful, boss. We've never seen so much snow. The forest is magnificent. Every branch is loaded. The trees look like soldiers holding arms down to their sides."
"Ear," Brain inquires. "What do you hear?"
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| David Smith tries to keep his balance as he attempts to slow while learning to cross-country ski. Eric Paul Zamora / The Fresno Bee |
"Good news, chief. We're not alone. This is the first time David L. Smith has ever gone skiing. And it's been a few years since Charlotte Sines has been on skis."
"Lungs," Brain queries, "how are you doing?"
"We're at 7,200 feet elevation, captain. Not as much oxygen as we're used to, but the air is fresh and pure. Keep it coming."
"Will, do," expands Diaphragm.
"Zip it, guys," Ear interrupts. "Important stuff is going down."
Serda, who has been skiing since he was 5 and is equally at home on a snowboard, downhill run or a cross-country trail, demonstrates how to step and glide.
"You want the classic Nordic stance," he says. "Keep your weight forward. Push with your poles. Left, then right."
The practice area contains four sets of cross-country ski tracks made by a grooming machine. Serda glides from one end to the other with ease, then invites his pupils to do the same.
"Your skis will stay in the tracks," he says. "Try to look up. It will help you keep your weight forward."
Brain exults as body works together perfectly on the first practice run.
"Easier than we thought," say Legs and Arms.
"Not so fast," cautions Inner Ear. "This feels weird. Like we're wearing slippery boards for shoes."
Suddenly, Serda goes down on his bonanza, but by design.
"When you fall, it's important to know how to get up," he says. "Never face your skis downhill. If you do, that's where you'll go."
Deftly, Serda demonstrates how to get skis into proper position and push up to stand.
"He makes it look easy," marvels Eye.
"Being on snow is totally foreign at first," says Serda. "But the more you ski, the more confident you'll feel."
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| Instructor Jason Serda, center, teaches David Smith, left, and Guy Keeler how to stop on cross-country skis. Eric Paul Zamora / The Fresno Bee |
Brain orders increased speed on the next practice run. Body pulls it off easily. Smith, going even faster, takes a tumble.
"Not good," says Eye. "That had to hurt."
Brain agrees but refuses to slow down. Seconds later, a slight slope that went unnoticed at snail speed suddenly causes the slippery boards to move faster than body's center of gravity. Gluteus Maximus smacks into the packed snow with a thud.
"Way to go, Brain," mutters Sacroiliac. "Does anyone up there know what they're doing?"
"No harm done," says Gluteus Maximus, turning the other cheek. "We're OK. Really, we are."
Serda gives his pupils more time to practice, then grins and nods toward a groomed trail leading away from the ski area.
"After awhile I don't want to look at the lodge and the parking lot and the red fence," says Serda. "Let's lose that scene."
The pupils leave the practice spot and head uphill. They round one bend and suddenly, Badger Pass is a memory. All is quiet. The forest is dressed in white.
"Watch out for snow bombs," says Serda, explaining how heavy clumps of snow on tree limbs can plummet to earth without warning.
Skis slide over the snow with ease, propelled by the poles. Lungs and Heart are working harder.
"Do you suppose we could lose the jacket?" asks Skin. "It's getting a little warm down here."
"Hold on," says Brain. "I've got enough to think about."
At a resting point, Serda explains the rewards of cross-country skiing.
It's the touring, he says. There are 25 miles of machine-groomed trails at Badger Pass and nearly 350 miles of skiable trails and roads in Yosemite National Park.
It's fun to get out and see nature during winter, he says. Just make sure your body is loaded with plenty of carbs and gets all the water it needs.
At a second practice area, this one with a definite slope, Serda demonstrates how to stop on skis using the half wedge or full wedge technique. The idea is to create resistance by turning one or both skis into a snowplow position. The technique also can be used to make turns: right wedge if you want to go left, left wedge if you want to go right.
"You can't stop on a dime," says Serda. "But you can slow down until you reach a level area."
"Did you hear that, Brain?" demands Sacroiliac. "There's no stopping on a dime."
"Don't worry," Brain replies. "We're going to get this if it kills us."
"That's what I was afraid of," moans Sacroiliac.
A national park ranger leads a group of snowshoers through thick powder and onto the trail.
"I wish you cross-country skiers would stay out of our snowshoe tracks," the ranger growls with mock gruffness.
"He called us skiers," swoons Ear.
"Wrong on both counts," Brain admits. "We're not skiers, and the snowshoers are supposed to stay out of the cross-country ski tracks."
Serda checks his watch. It's been nearly two hours since the group left the cross-country ski center. Lesson is over. Time to head back.
Smith and Sines decide to spend more time on the trail.
"Cross-country skiing is a lot easier that I thought," says Smith. "I have bad knees, and I was afraid it might not be good for me. But I feel fine."
"The big thing is, cross- country skiing gets you away from the crowd," says Sines. "With downhill, you ride the lift up and ski down. Up and down. The scenery never changes. Out here the scenery changes."
After Smith and Sines leave, Brain sets course for home.
"The trail looks a lot steeper going down than when we came up," observes Eye.
"Nice and easy," says Brain. "We can do this. Remember what we learned."
Forward to a snowplow stop. Forward some more to another stop.
"You're doing fine," says Serda.
"Curve ahead," says Eye. "Looks steeper."
Picking up speed. Sliding faster.
"Feels a little aggressive," says Serda. "Left wedge now."
"Left wedge," says Brain.
"What?" says Left Leg.
"Too late," says Eye. "No room."
"Right wedge," orders Brain.
"Idiot!" rages Eye. "Snow bank. Can't stop. Mayday!"
Torso takes a mean lick. Like rolling off a top bunk bed.
"What happened?" Ribs croak. "Are we playing football?"
"Sorry," says Brain. "I think we'll just take the skis off and walk the rest of the way."
"You're going to get a memo from me in the morning," shouts Ribcage.
"Us, too," thunder Arms and Legs.
"Don't listen to them," says Eye. "This was worth it. Every minute."
"I agree," says Brain. "Let's go eat."
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