Ski for Light Family Catches Birkie Fever

February 23, 2019: I was behind the start gate of the American Birkebeiner, looking over the expanse of other skiers ready to take their shot at the challenging 55K Classic race course. Anxiously awaiting the release, although I'd skied nine previous Birkies, my mind was focused on something else entirely: I would be guiding Tim McCorcle, who is totally blind, through the race. I was experiencing a flood of thoughts: Did we prepare enough, how are the other skiers going to interact with us, are we in over our heads, what if something happens to one of us, how well will we adapt to what we could not prepare for, will my voice hold out, and will the trail conditions hold up? These questions were offset by the realization that we could also be ambassadors for Ski For Light, and that we might inspire others to go after their dreams, to set goals, and to overcome obstacles.

I also fondly recalled how the Ski For Light family came together and had a lot of fun the previous, two days: On Thursday, six "Ski For Light Drift Busters," consisting of skier Tim McCorcle, Ski For Light guides Michael Evelo, Don Evans, Larry Behne, Brian Christoffel, and Kent Moore were all attached to the same 24-foot long skies and pushed powder up Main Street Hayward in the Giant Ski Race. Friday, Tim McCorcle, guided by me, Melinda Hollands guided by Laura Jacobson and Krista Erickson guided by Sarah Eisenberg participated in the Adaptive Ski Race. All got to experience skiing across the expansive Lake Hayward and the thrill of climbing the American Birkebeiner International Bridge with its descent onto Main Street Hayward, followed by the final push to the finish line. The announcer did a great job of letting the crowd know how great the Ski For Light program is, and also of sharing with them Tim's goal of skiing the full Birkie the next day.

At the Birkie start gate, we got in the last minute photo, hugs of support and well wishes from my wife, Sheryl, and from my sister, Marietta. As we took our places before the big release, we said a prayer to the patron saints of eye disorders -- St. Lucy and St. Clare -- and to St. Sebastian patron saint of athletes, that they safely guide us and all skiers that day. Looking over the crowd outside the fence, we knew members of the SFL family were out there cheering and supporting us. Then evidence of that support arrived as guide Leslie Maclin had the announcer introduce Tim McCorcle and me, stating the feat on which we were about to embark: Skiing the American Birkebeiner! We raised our arms and cheered in anticipation of the day ahead.

The final countdown finished with the guns going off, and the gate came up, releasing the wave 5 classic skiers. All of the preparation of the last two years had come down to this moment, as we began the 55-kilometer journey.

My first concern was to keep the day safe, as I was humbled and honored that Tim considered me to be one of the few guides he would trust to "go fast." I would do my best to honor that, but I also had to not be too cautious. This was a timed event. It was time for the many hours of talking, planning, and years of skiing together - of forging that critical bond of communication and trust between skier and guide -- to culminate here; to allow us to surmount the challenges ahead with attunement and skill.

The first of these was to navigate the interactions with the sea of other skiers, which was something we knew we would have to figure out on the go. The other skiers were great! It didn't take long for the task of the day to set in, hill after hill after relentless hill. Some of the hills with their unique challenges required trust, preparation, and instincts to kick in. During the first third of the race, the tracks were in okay shape and I was able to guide Tim from beside or behind. Eventually, the tracks began to deteriorate, and it became better to have Tim follow my voice going up hills and the click of the poles downhill. Some of the downhill tracks were so worn out that snowplowing was difficult at best, and clicking poles was impossible. This would cause me to get ahead of Tim. I yelled guidance back to him as best I could, but at times, he was unable to pinpoint my position and instinctively sat down. These were the scariest and most stressful parts of the race, especially as fatigue started setting in.

The day also had its emotional ups and downs: The thrill of the start, the charge of encouragement from other skiers, the uplifting Powerline Drummers, the downer of another wipeout, the thrill of reaching the 'OO' halfway point, the downer of being told at 'OO' that we were ahead of the mandatory cutoff by only 10 minutes. When I heard this, it was, unquestionably, the low point of the race. I really began to doubt the outcome and, for a while, it was hard to stay positive, thinking, "can we pick up the pace enough to stay ahead of the cut-off times at the upcoming stations?" At that point, ooh! I felt down, but Tim rallied, as I have seen him do before and we stepped up the pace. As we approached the next station (the Gravel Pit), I realized that others were not being pulled for the cutoff - good news! We were still ahead of the cut off time! We got going again, keeping up the pace. There was a moment of light-heartedness when we passed the 39K partiers as they danced to their music in costumes and cheered on the passing skiers. Thrill again as we conquered the dreaded "Bitch Hill," despite the bad jokes from the ad hoc entertainment! When we left the last station, the Fish Hatchery, excitement surged again as we found out we had advanced to 25 minutes ahead of the cutoff time! Downer knowing we had some long, grueling climbs ahead of us as the fatigue of the day really set in: This was the time to dig in and to find what we did not know was there. Determination as we downed my special energy drink to power us through to the THRILL of knowing the next stop is the finish line!

The final 3.7K normally is a mundane part of the race, with flat terrain and then the long crossing of Lake Hayward, but this time it was the second most galvanizing stretch of the course. Tim turned into a double-poling madman, passing at least 15 skiers, some looked astonished as Tim went flying by them, as they had passed us earlier! Tim really dug in and gave it his all - I could barely keep up! Then came the most electrifying part of the race -- climbing the American Birkebeiner International Bridge and making the final, steep descent onto Main Street Hayward. It was a big relief for Tim, as he didn't wipe out in front of the large, cheering crowd. The fans on Main Street were AMAZING! The number of supporters still there to cheer on those of us late-arriving skiers 8 hours after we left the start line at Cable, Wisc. was incredible. The calls, shouts, and yells of encouragement from the crowd were so loud, I had to get very close to Tim, guiding him to the final tracks where he continued his powerful double-poling to the finish!!

Crossing the finish line, Main Street Hayward, Wisc. 8:05 after we left the start at Cable, Wisc.! Where do I start with this one?! Our enthusiastic hug of "we did it." The announcer going crazy talking about Tim's accomplishment, telling the crowd about our being a part of SFL, and how Tim won the adaptive event the day before as a warm-up. Thankful we had a safe journey. Happiness, relief and sadness it was done. Also, Tim's receiving his medal for completing his first American Birkebeiner, and my picking up a 10 year skier medal. Most of all the hugs and words of congrats from my wife Sheryl, my sister Marietta and the Ski For Light family, Rich Mah, Melinda Hollands, Laura Jacobson, Brian Christoffel and Larry Behne, who greeted us at the finish. There were others at the start, but who had had to leave prior to our finish because of weather. Don Evans, Kent Moore, Krista Erickson, Sarah Eisenberg and a special shout out to Leslie Maclin who pulled off the side of the road to watch us via live web cam, and to cheer and cry as we crossed the finish line!

Congratulations, Tim! Out of the more than 260,000 skiers who have completed a Birkie, very few can say they have skied it totally blind: You are in a very elite group of skiers! For the record, at no point did we remove skis to walk through any challenging part of the race course, all of it was on skis.

It was great to see many in the SFL family get in on and catching "Birkie Fever." Either by promoting Ski For Light, by participating, by cheering, or via emails, texts and Facebook messages of encouragement and congratulations. The support was amazing.

A big part of the motivation in Ski For Light is not only to expand our horizons, but to inspire others to go the extra mile, to see the benefit of digging in to accomplish a goal, and to provide hope to those who have a dream -- not only for the annual ski week, but outside of and beyond that event. Tim and I felt it imperative that SFL was tied into our adventure to provide exposure for an amazing group of people dedicated to teaching those inspired to be a guide or a skier. Will the Ski For Light Drift Busters continue? Will SFL participants continue to ski the adaptive event? Maybe even the 15 kilometer Prince Haakon event? I would love to see our presence grow and to see more of us serve as a beacon of hope to those who feel they are limited, and as an inspiration to future guides who may be thinking, "how could I ever guide?" Let's bring them into the Ski For Light family.