Minnesota mindset

Today I was once again out skiing at Theodore Wirth while my boys were undertaking their ski lessons. I came around a corner on the back nine and saw in front of me a man walking on the ski trail carrying his skies and poles. In front of him were three others, two on skies, and one more carrying all his equipment. The next time I glanced up at this small group, three of them were twisted in a pile on the ground- two of them who had only been carrying their skies. They were all laughing uproariously. As I got closer they were able to untangle themselves and as a group they managed to help the two with skies on get back on their feet. But they could not stay on their feet for more than a few seconds, their ankles buckling on them and their legs windmilling apart. They continued laughing. I noticed that they looked like perhaps they hailed originally from other parts of the world. Warmer parts. They were wrapped from head to two in many many layers of outdoor clothing despite the very mild temperatures. The whole scene reminded me of our old Peruvian houseguests comment the first time we brought her out on skies: 'I think that a Peruvian on skies is like a Minnesotan salsa dancing!' It made me wonder what came naturally to these men who were so humorously trying out this sport that seemed so alien to them. Just then the oldest ski school group buzzed by. In the 34 degree weather these native Minnesotan kids were stripped down to just long underwear tops and light pants- sweating in the 'heat wave' as they glided by me and the struggling men. We all stopped what we were doing- the men even somehow managed to take a pause in their flailing- to watch in awe as these lovely lithe young bodies glided by- making the sport of skate skiing look naturally graceful and fluid. Then the group was gone and the men went right back to flailing and laughing and I pushed off, leaving the men behind.

I was telling my boys this story at dinner tonight and Jon mentioned that skiing is not a natural movement to everyone, that the boys, even as they struggle to become ever more graceful on skies, should be proud of how good they have gotten. Then I told them of a man Jon and I had taken skiing years ago. This young man was wonderfully athletic and indeed had spent the majority of his life in Minnesota. He was familiar with the snow sports of downhill skiing and had recently taken up snowboarding. But Jon and I took him out into the backwoods of northern Minnesota on cross country skies. This man did not get it. He gamely put his skies on and then proceeded to jog the entire loop next to us- keeping up to us because he was quite fit- but he didn't even once experience a bit of glide. I argued that I thought that he had actually caught a glide on most downhills, but Jon remembers him running right down the hills- completely picking up his skies and just taking a run through the woods with crazy 7 foot long skinny pieces of wood strapped to his feet. The boys thought this was hilarious, and then they nearly died laughing when they found out that the ski jogger we were talking about was none other than their dear Uncle Tim. He is a natural athlete, but apparently not a natural cross country skier. I can't vouch for his salsa dancing.