Cross-Country Skiing...
On our final day in Levi we thought we would have a go at cross country skiing, something I’d never tried because I enjoy not having to move under my own power. I prefer gravity to assist me in my exercise. But cross country skiing was probably the biggest laugh i have had all year. I would love to tell you how we glided along in a quiet, snow filled forest, across wide frozen lakes the sun in our hair. It’s a lovely image inst it? But, Yes, that wasn’t us. What we were doing could be more accurately termed the “geriatric shuffle slip.” With an occasional flail to add suspense and drama to what looked like an elegant sport. We didn’t fall on a slope so steep that if you stopped and peered up you would only see a tower of white. We tipped over on the flat ground, simply because we could not stop at what felt like a hair raising 5 mph.
Picture this: A quiet peaceful morning, the sun gleaming. 3 Finnish experienced cross-country skiers in all their fashionable attire waiting on the flat at a 'Give Way' junction for Skidoos. When suddenly crashing along behind them, like a dog on wheels with no brakes appears a British person, arms flapping around in the air, poles threatening to poke anything within range, totally unbalanced yet desperately trying to look cool and under control, as if the flapping was just for shits and giggles or a severe bout of Tourettes tics. The 3 heads turn, puzzled, worried as I approach at speed, but then I go whizzing across the main road, round the bend and plonk over I went. I quickly picked myself up feeling quite the fool. Fancy falling over on the flat after a mere 3 degree slope. As I shake of the snow I smile politely to 2 Fins in their 80's as they glide past in that elegant way that made us have some crazy belief that this was infact an easy sport! My mind is a puzzle of confusion, a week speeding downhill and not a single fall.... yet this!?! - "How the hell do you stop!!?".
I look back behind me wondering what sort of pickle my 2 friends would get themselves into. When I see Friend number 1 rounding the bend heading toward me, looking exactly as I suspected I did on my approach. Legs slip sliding everywhere, arms doing loops. Peters idea of jumping out of the ski runs ended up in more embarrassment as his skis just slipped about like ice skates. His legs seemed to get further and further apart when 'donk' he was down. Not just 'down'... thats an understatement of the image.. he was more sprawled out across the whole track. Before I even had time to gain some sort of control of my laughter around the bend came Friend number 2, in a similar state to the pair of us, however Fiona decided to head off into the deeper snow off the track and through the trees in a bid to stop. It worked.. she stopped. With the aid of a tree.
So there I am laughing uncontrollably, desperately trying to keep my bladder from spilling, as in these kinds of temperatures you don't want to be getting water in your pants, if that stuff freezes down there your in big trouble.
As funny as the domino falls were, i had almost as much fun watching friend number 1 try to get back on his feet. His legs, skis and poles were facing opposite directions and he was very aware that he was blocking the whole track. Various obscenities about "what on earth is wrong with these skis" were being muttered. As the Fins slid past, you could see in their eyes what was going through their heads. "What on earth do these 3 plonkers think they are doing??, how do you ALL fall over on the flat??"..
When we finally gained control we were up and shuffling our way along the track.... next a hill to go UP. Oh goodness,.. need I go on. I think you can probably imagine what happened next. I ended up with one leg up, one leg down, arse to the side, poles attempting to dig in for some sort of traction or balance. But nope back i went, all the way to the bottom and into another heap. More laughter. When we finally got the hang of it enough to zip along the flat I finally realised quite how utterly exhausting it was.
So, yes, cross country skiing has been ticked off on the things to do before I die, it has also gained a tick on the things I will not be doing again. This will be one of those days that I will remember for a long time and when I look back on it I will be sure to smile fondly. However from now on I will be sticking to gravity assisted down hill skiing.
Picture this: A quiet peaceful morning, the sun gleaming. 3 Finnish experienced cross-country skiers in all their fashionable attire waiting on the flat at a 'Give Way' junction for Skidoos. When suddenly crashing along behind them, like a dog on wheels with no brakes appears a British person, arms flapping around in the air, poles threatening to poke anything within range, totally unbalanced yet desperately trying to look cool and under control, as if the flapping was just for shits and giggles or a severe bout of Tourettes tics. The 3 heads turn, puzzled, worried as I approach at speed, but then I go whizzing across the main road, round the bend and plonk over I went. I quickly picked myself up feeling quite the fool. Fancy falling over on the flat after a mere 3 degree slope. As I shake of the snow I smile politely to 2 Fins in their 80's as they glide past in that elegant way that made us have some crazy belief that this was infact an easy sport! My mind is a puzzle of confusion, a week speeding downhill and not a single fall.... yet this!?! - "How the hell do you stop!!?".
I look back behind me wondering what sort of pickle my 2 friends would get themselves into. When I see Friend number 1 rounding the bend heading toward me, looking exactly as I suspected I did on my approach. Legs slip sliding everywhere, arms doing loops. Peters idea of jumping out of the ski runs ended up in more embarrassment as his skis just slipped about like ice skates. His legs seemed to get further and further apart when 'donk' he was down. Not just 'down'... thats an understatement of the image.. he was more sprawled out across the whole track. Before I even had time to gain some sort of control of my laughter around the bend came Friend number 2, in a similar state to the pair of us, however Fiona decided to head off into the deeper snow off the track and through the trees in a bid to stop. It worked.. she stopped. With the aid of a tree.
So there I am laughing uncontrollably, desperately trying to keep my bladder from spilling, as in these kinds of temperatures you don't want to be getting water in your pants, if that stuff freezes down there your in big trouble.
As funny as the domino falls were, i had almost as much fun watching friend number 1 try to get back on his feet. His legs, skis and poles were facing opposite directions and he was very aware that he was blocking the whole track. Various obscenities about "what on earth is wrong with these skis" were being muttered. As the Fins slid past, you could see in their eyes what was going through their heads. "What on earth do these 3 plonkers think they are doing??, how do you ALL fall over on the flat??"..
When we finally gained control we were up and shuffling our way along the track.... next a hill to go UP. Oh goodness,.. need I go on. I think you can probably imagine what happened next. I ended up with one leg up, one leg down, arse to the side, poles attempting to dig in for some sort of traction or balance. But nope back i went, all the way to the bottom and into another heap. More laughter. When we finally got the hang of it enough to zip along the flat I finally realised quite how utterly exhausting it was.
So, yes, cross country skiing has been ticked off on the things to do before I die, it has also gained a tick on the things I will not be doing again. This will be one of those days that I will remember for a long time and when I look back on it I will be sure to smile fondly. However from now on I will be sticking to gravity assisted down hill skiing.
Labels: Cross-country Skiing, Finland
posted by Badger at 4:25 PM
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