by John Klemaseski
Ever since my first time skiing 1/2 kilometer with my eyes closed in the hills near SpearFish, South Dakota in 1996, I have desired to ski blindfolded. This year in Green Bay my wish was granted. While skiing with Mary Hiland and Dan Beckman, it was our plan to have Dan as my guide and I would ski the 5K loop while Mary would chalet. Mary thought I could do the 5K in an hour and I thought she must have partied too hard the night before. The pressure had now begun, I didn't want her to have to wait too long for us to return.
I removed my glasses, slipped on my headband backward over my closed eyes and asked Dan if he was ready to go. We were in the center of the crowded lodge at lunch time and started the maze of metal chair legs, ski boots, huge round tables and pleasant bumps into my fellow skiers. Still clutching his arm when the cool air surrounded us as we walked out the door. Now, to find my skies! I hadn't thought that far in advance, this was starting to get complicated. I don't think Dan knew what he was getting into. I tried to describe my skis and poles but couldn't recall which rack they where stashed in. Standing there waiting while he searched, I wouldn't spoil this expedition by opening my eyes, I resolved, no matter what would happen. My skis were located and we started to put them on. Being used to just standing upright and stepping quickly into the binding, I took off my mittens, felt around for that soft spongy part, and after a few attempts I smiled with success. All right, now where is that mitten? My guide says to my right and my fingers feel the sting of cold wet snow. A little further back, more to the right, keep going, got it, and now for that pole I pushed away while searching for the mitten.
I told my guide, if he said SIT, I would do so immediately. We began side stepping over to the tracked long down hill. I was ready and was going to ski as hard as I could. Down we went, good track, this was exciting, this is easy, my body starts to flow with the straight track. I could do this all day. Curving right, my guide tells me, as I lean too far into the turn and try to find the right position. Wobbling about, stability is regained until I hear left curve going up hill. These trails were easier yesterday! My rhythm has always been good as I feel my poles not quite hitting the snow uniformly. Up hills, I can lean forward and feel secure, but these curves sure are tough.
Still skiing as fast as I can go, we pass others and I yell out my name. Some don't respond, maybe they're concentrating or maybe they are tired and trying to save on energy, as later on, I find, I will be doing. After 1K, water is needed, I'm hot, sweating and my jacket is too warm. I pull the water bottle out and drink. I don't want anyone to pass us nor slow anyone else down; this has now become a self imposed challenge. Hitting the pocket to replace the water bottle in my pack has become difficult and later I will ask my guide to do this. I find myself searching out for my pole with instructions from my guide and can't quite seem get the strap in the correct position.
So on we go, turning where there are no tracks, suddenly my confidence level goes down and I question my enthusiasm, my sense of direction is lost, find a track but not the correct one. Track left, track left, I find more than one track and then, turn right, sharp right, and falling to the ground I kiss the snow covered trail. Fresh snow has started to fall as I pick myself up. I'm breathing heavily while the soft sharp snowflakes hit the back of my throat like tiny little darts. I complain to my guide that I'm going to slow down, but find myself skiing faster after a short time.
Finally we climb the herringbone hill. The last kilometer is the longest and my fuel cell is running on empty. The head band covering my eyes is wringing wet, my shirt soaked through, legs are weak, head is pounding and my coordination is poor when my guide says the lodge is in sight. We ski up the hill, take off my skis and I get the traditional hug from Dan. Mary is there and she only had to wait that hour. I get a victory hug. I'm beat but excited. And you know, if I can do this, WE can do anything.