We Did It!

I’ve mentioned before that Northern Wisconsinites embrace winter. One way the locals beat the winter blues is by holding an annual mid-February 10k cross-country night ski race/tour across our frozen finger of Lake Superior.

Book Across the Bay begins in Ashland (my town) and ends up across Chequamegon Bay in Washburn.

1,000 ice luminaries light the way and volunteers pass out drinks, snacks, and encouragement at rest stops placed every 1k along the route. Free Hot Chocolate and chili at the end. Now there’s motivation. 

Photo lifted from Book Across the Bay's Facebook page

Last year we watched the race start, thinking maybe we should try that as a family next year. Which meant a lot needed to happen to make that work.

Like say for instance….learn how to cross-country ski.

We’ve been practicing since Christmas. Christina handled registration and tried to pin me down. Maybe yes, maybe no. I’m not sure. Okay, fine. Sign us up. Oh my goodness, we’re committed. 10k is a long way, for me at least. Yikes!

Keith opted out early, not liking winter and wanting it to be over yesterday. Then Anna, bowed out after trying cross-country skiing once and not liking it. Erica had to work.

That left Christina, Kiah, Amy, Lani, and I. We gave Erica’s registration to a friend we renamed “Eric.”

I worried all last week. 

What if I can’t make it? How many people can the ice hold? They expected 4,000 people.  What if it only holds 3,995? What if I need to use a bathroom halfway over? How will I keep track of my girls in a crowd of 4,000 people? What if I’m the 4,000^th person to cross the lake?  

To add to my worries, the weather cranked up last week. Melting snow, slush, mud, shrinking snow piles. Sidewalks that haven’t seen the light of day for months reappeared. Did I still want to venture out on a lake whose stability might have been compromised by an unseasonable thaw?

Thankfully the weather cooled down again and stopped the melting, but that left ice everywhere, including the now snowless race route. Lake Superior was a sheet of ICE.

I can’t do ice. I’m not that good of skier. I’m old. I could easily fall and break something. Should I take the risk?

I woke up Saturday morning hoping snow had fallen overnight. I saw dry snowless sidewalks and prayed, “God, I’m too scared to do this.”

Saturday afternoon Lani and I visited the starting point, hoping that seeing the layout beforehand would help me mentally prepare. Trying not to be chicken, we carefully walked 100 yards out on the icy lake. We watched a snow grinder make a better path by chopping a few inches of ice into snocone consistency.

At 5:15 pm we rounded up participating family members, attached race numbers, and gathered five pairs of skis, boots, and poles.

Christina planned to cross with her friends. She had funky “Yak Tracks” that attach to shoes and opted to walk instead of ski.

Picture lifted off our newspaper's website. Shame on me.

We met “Eric” at the starting line. Kiah and “Eric” are two competitive peas in a pod so they took off and I didn’t see them for three hours. When Amy and Lani pushed off, I knew that was my moment of truth.

The groomers couldn't cut cross-country tracks in the ice. I’ve never skied without tracks. I tentatively took a few strides and realized it was doable. I silenced my nagging fears and pushed forward. Lord willing, I hoped to book across the bay.

I could have been a poster child for the tortoise in a Tortoise and the Hare book. The only person slower than me was a seven-year-old girl named Audrey and her Dad. 

I quit worrying about what place I’d finish in. I just wanted to get across the ice without falling and breaking something.

Amy and Lani waited three minutes at checkpoint #1 for me. Sigh!

At checkpoint #2 Amy said she was freezing and didn’t want to finish. I wavered between not wanting her to have a miserable experience and thinking she’d feel good about the accomplishment once she’d finished. We kept going.

Lani started skiing beside me. Not sure if she couldn’t ski faster, but I like to think at least one of my children was concerned for my well-being. It was nice to have a companion and someone to trade comments with, “It’s cold. The ice is awful. We didn’t dress warm enough. Maybe there’s hot chocolate at the next rest stop. How much farther? It’s cold. How far do you think Kiah is now? What if the chili’s gone when we get to the end?” Repeat, pause, repeat.

Some skiers turned around and headed back saying it was too slick. I totally understood but we weren’t turning back. Not after going that far.

 

At checkpoint #6 Amy had a meltdown, wanting to flag down the nearest snowmobile and beg for a ride. I knew she could finish so encouraged her to keep going. 
  

Christina and friends at Checkpoint #8

 By Checkpoint #7 we could see the lights of the tent at the end. Both girls were cold and miserable, but we plugged away. Finally we reached the big sign stretched across the finish line that said, “You Booked Across the Bay – THE END.” 

Certainly nice of them to say so but we didn’t book across the bay – we had slugged across the bay. Our time? A whopping 2 ½ hours.  

But we made it. Yahoo! I didn’t fall into the lake. Matter of fact, I didn’t fall at all. I didn’t get blisters and I wasn’t in last place. Yippee!!

We found Christina, Kiah, and Eric, compared times, and swapped stories.

Christina’s eyes danced. She had a great time and thoroughly enjoyed herself. In fact after the festivities, she walked with her friends over the ice back to Ashland.

Kiah and Eric finished an hour before we did. They had a great time and bubbled over talking about how fun it was.

Amy, Lani, and I looked at each other wondering if we had been in a different race. I’m so proud of them though. It’s one thing to finish when you’re enjoying yourself. It’s a bigger thing to finish when you aren’t enjoying yourself.

All things considered, I’m glad we did it. It was fun to be part of this unique event. The enthusiasm and energy was contagious. It felt good to finish. It was fun to do as a family, though at the same time, it was the most miserable cross-country skiing I’ve ever done.   

This was a victory for me to do something I was afraid to do. I pressed on in spite of my fears and slowly plugged away even though it was hard.

Christina now wants to try the Polar Plunge next month. I’m not even tempted.