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Fun to ski or see

AMERICAN BIRKEBEINER | Cross-country event draws 7,000 racers, 15,000 viewers to Wisconsin's Northwoods

January 30, 2008

I'd barely been on my long, skinny cross-country skis for five minutes when it happened: wipeout.

"The trail's a little icy today," explained my skiing companion Ned Zuelsdorff, as he patiently waited for me to get up from the snow -- an awkward maneuver that's reminiscent of a newborn antelope trying to stand for the first time.

Zuelsdorff was taking me cross-country skiing through Wisconsin's Northwoods. 70-foot tall oak trees flanked the wide, well-groomed trail that makes for some of the most exhilarating and challenging Nordic skiing in the Midwest, if not the country.

On this frigid January afternoon, we had the trail to ourselves. About three weeks from now, it'll be an entirely different story. Nearly 7,000 skiers will fill these woods for the 35th annual American Birkebeiner, the largest cross-country ski race in North America.

Scheduled for Feb. 23, the Birkie, as it's known, is more than just a race between the small towns of Cable and Hayward. It's three days of events for elite and "citizen" skiers alike, young and old. It's a giant party, drawing 15,000 spectators. Many of them line the streets of Hayward, chomping on brats and cheering on finishers after a grueling 50-plus kilometers -- more than 30 miles -- of slicing through the snow.

It's a spectacle worth the eight-hour drive from Chicago, whether you come to ski it or just see it.

"There's nothing else like it in the U.S.," said Zuelsdorff, executive director of the race. "Skiing to the finish down Main Street -- thousands of people yelling, bells ringing, music playing -- it's pretty incredible."

Some 189,285 men and women have skied the notoriously undulating 51-kilometer Birkie and its sister event, the 23-kilometer Kortelopet, since it started 35 years ago. Thousands more have taken part in the shorter races aimed at children, families and recreational skiers.

While 35 years is nothing to sneeze at, the origins of the race date back eight centuries. The CliffsNotes version: During the Norwegian Civil War in 1206, a couple of Viking warriors rescued a baby prince and skied more than 50 kilometers to deliver this future king to safety. The soldiers, called Birkebeiners because of their birch bark leggings, were hailed as heroes.

This legend became the inspiration for the American Birkebeiner, where it's tradition for a few hearty participants to dress up like the Viking warriors, strap on wooden skis and re-enact the baby drama on race day. (Don't worry, they carry a doll most of the way. A real baby gets swapped in at the very end.)

That's not the only Birkie tradition to develop over the years. On a steep incline along the trail, a group of, um, female spectators gathers on "B--ch (rhymes with witch) Hill," berating skiers as they struggle their way to the top. Snowmobilers also have been known to hang out near hillier parts of the course and hoist scorecards, rating the inevitable crashes.

Churches, community groups and the Telemark Resort in Cable put on "pasta feeds" the night before the Birkie. After the race, you can't squeeze a ski pole into the packed Sawmill Saloon in Seeley. For many Birkie participants, the event itself is a tradition, a chance to reconnect with cross-country compatriots.

Lynette Carani of Highland Park will be trekking up north next month to ski her 30th Birkie. It used to take Carani, 58, a little under four hours to ski the 51-kilometer course. These days, it takes closer to five. Elite skiers finish around the two-hour mark.

"It just becomes the focus of winter," Carani said. "I used to be a snowbird like everyone else. Once I got into cross-country skiing, it changed everything."

Much like "West Side Story's" Jets and Sharks, cross-country skiers generally fall into two camps: skaters and striders. The skaters, who are faster, ski in a V-shaped pattern, while the striders prefer the classic parallel motion you'd use on the NordicTrack. The two camps have had a bit of turf war, with classic skiers complaining their groomed tracks on the Birkie Trail get decimated by the skaters.

As a result, things are changing this year. For the first time, there will be two Birkie races: the traditional 51K for the skaters and a new 53K route for classic skiers. Both groups will start off in waves on their respective trails before merging on the Birkie Trail at the 15K mark for the remainder of the race. They'll all end up finishing on Hayward's Main Street, where truckloads of snow are brought in for the frosty finale.

As Zuelsdorff led me along a stretch of the new classic trail, I felt like I was finally hitting my stride. I even started to entertain thoughts of skiing the Birkie myself one day. I could wear one of those cool racing bibs. I could ski down rowdy Main Street. I could ... whoa ... wipeout. Again.

At least there were no snowmobilers there to see it.