I have had the privilege of being a part of this event – as a racer from 2014 through 2021 and as a part of the race organization since 2022 – for a while. Getting to learn, first hand and over the past four editions, the amount of work that a VAST number of folks do voluntarily for nearly 11.50 months spinning many little and so not so little wheels for ONE BIG WHEEL to turn well for a few hours on ONE was (and still is) something else. This year, I got to put on both hats – one at a time though – and enjoy a really full day of festivities in one of my favorite trail systems in the Keweenaw (or anywhere else). In addition to getting a good measure of improvements since and through the SISU Ski Fest, Noquemanon Ski Marathon, Pre-Birkie, North End Classic and American Birkebeiner on home snow and taking stock of things that need to be worked on, the event weekend served as the final (organized) family reunion of 2025-26 Winter.

da Preparation

Since (and including the American Birkebeiner), I had one week dedicated for recovery (read: as much rest as body commanded and only unstructured activities) and one more week of easing back via semi-structured training. Taking the home snow advantage (read: course familiarity) and the seasonal volume – ~720 km over ~80 hours and ~9100 meters of elevation gain – into account, I believed I could hold North End Classic-like effort – about 12.5 km in about 60 minutes (i.e., 4:45 min/km) – for about 2 hours while focusing on good form (e.g., lean from the ankle, core crunch, longer glide on each ski, complete weight transfer, knee drive, pole plant, arm follow through and recovery, etc.) and terrain-appropriate technique (e.g., stride, double pole, kick double pole, tuck and step turns at speed, etc.). Buffering about 5 minutes for things beyond my control, 2:00:00 +/- 0:05:00 became the time goal for this event.

Our Keweenaw Peninsula has been on the verge of a record-setting Winter – at 290+ inches on the day before Great Bear Chase, 1978-79’s all time record of 390.4 inches seemed to be just one or two more good blizzards away. Put differently, there had neither been any shortage of quality snow nor that of our saintly groomers’ magic on a daily basis. The longer term forecast by our friends at NOAA / National Weather Service and Weather.com (daily and hourly) had indicated a pleasurable outing for skiers and volunteers and a pretty straightforward kick wax situation. Their short term forecast, however, retained the pleasure for skiers and volunteers alike on race day but … it’s a big BUT …  the kick waxing situation was no longer straightforward. I don’t recall too many back-to-back events that have had similar variable weather conditions resulting in tricky (kick) waxing situations. With much of Friday (rain) and early hours of Saturday (snow) being not all that different from what Mother Nature dished out for the Open Track events at the American Birkebeiner a fortnight ago, I had some experience exposure to navigate the situation … even if I had botched the wax job. Learning from my Birkie week mistakes and missed steps, I

1. practiced Klister and Klister Cover applications ahead of time,
2. packed a scraper (in addition to kick wax and cork) to clear any icing,
3. planned to apply binder the night before and kick wax just hours before the event,
4. planned to offer waxing help in a kind and supportive manner to the skier(s) in need, and
5. skied the course to re-familiarize myself with the geography and kept an eye on the weather patterns.

Keeping up 2025-26 Winter’s practice, I was once again sufficiently disciplined throughout the week and submitted my waxing protocol / recipe for this event as homework to MikeY on Tuesday afternoon. As he had done leading up to Birkie, he guided me through – with more questions … (a) How much have you considered the potential grooming plan? (b) How do you think the 3 feet base might affect how the grooming is done? and so on – to understand this circumstances better. Toko’s recommendation – released on Thursday and written by MikeY – indicated a ginormous gap between what I thought I knew and what I really knew, and carried with it lessons I could take with me long beyond the 2025-26 Winter.

My commoner status hasn’t changed yet but the Great Bear Chase is a home event. It’s big (900+ registered skiers – including the Junior Bear Chase – from all around the Midwest and beyond) but with the coziness of a small event. It takes place within a closed system (read: Swedetown Trails and no road crossings). The stadium (start, finish and wax test areas) was only a short walk from the parking lot … where I could easily access (or leave behind) a second (or third) pair of skis. Taking these luxuries into account, I prepared two more pairs of skis – skinnies and hairies – in case I botched the Klister Cover once again … for the second time in two weeks.

Gracious boss offered time off on Friday and that helped a great deal in taking care of numerous little / big things … including catching up with friends from out of town (Mark, Scott and Shannon), packet pickup (got to see and catch up with plenty of lovely friends from all around!) and packing the bag with sufficient clothing for a nearly full day of fun at Swedetown. Prior experience had taught me that Toko Yellow Kick Wax (most such warm waxes from any other brand) tend to be gooey during application and usually leave blobs that are not always easy to cork smooth … and it adds to the hustle of a race day morning. Some research (read: extensive YouTubing) had also shown that keeping such warm kick waxes in the fridge / freezer for a few hours as an easy way to solve this problem. With almost all preparations done (including stashing Toko Yellow Kick Wax in the fridge and keeping the ski bag right in front of the fridge so that I didn’t forget it next morning; there were / are things I need to do better) and binder application wrapped up, I called it a night around 10:30 pm.

da Event

I slept mostly meh and woke up around 3:30 am not fully rested / recovered. NOAA / National Weather Service‘s late Friday night (or early Saturday morning) forecast had indicated … (a) numerous scattered rain showers accumulating about 0.10 inch before transitioning to mixed precipitation and snow, (b) rain would change to mixed precipitation between 5 am and 7 am, (c) change from mixed precipitation to wet snow between 6 am and 7 am, (d) about 1 inch of snow expected from 7 am through 1 pm, and (e) a high probability of strong winds ranging around 20-25 mph after 7 am … making it less pleasurable than previously thought for almost all involved parties. I left home around 5:45 am, made a quick little pit stop to gather necessary documents for the Junior Bear Chase and arrived at the stadium around 6:30 am in pouring rain. Rain faded a few minutes before 7 am and turned to mixed precipitation around 7:15 am. Not wanting to repeat my Birkie Open Track mistake, I waited till it started snowing before applying the Toko Yellow Kick Wax as the cover over klister around 7:30 am. Confident in my preparation, I carried my skis (waxables and skinnies) and tested the waxables along the wax test loop.

Though glide was good and kick … not so much, I wasn’t worried since it usually took 1-2 km for the skis to work like they should. But what worried me at the end of the test lap was my inability to find the ski bag … not because someone had mistakenly moved it but because it had been hidden underneath a blanket of wet heavy snow getting thicker by the minute with some of the biggest flakes I had ever seen. With SO MUCH MORE snow coming down than what was in the forecast, it was an easy decision to rest the waxables and switch to skinnies for the day. Agreeing with the general thought process going around the stadium amongst skiers, spectators, organizers and volunteers – let us be grateful that it is snow and not rain (read: it’s better to have broken equipment than broken body parts), I waited out the final few minutes in the medical tent before making way to the start line.

The wave started on time and I moved well with reasonably good energy. Double poling felt almost effortless (compared to recent times) and skinnies were gliding well so much so that I needed to scrub my speed a few times over the first kilometer along outbound Tamarack and Cedar Loops. The story had remained the same for much of the second kilometer along Valley Trail … giving me good reason to believe that the objectively derived time goal – 2:00:00 +/- 0:05:00 – was within my reach. Just as I was about to reach / pass the famous Swedetown Snow Gauge, skier behind me skied over my skis and I fell. When I got back up, the binding was attached to the boot but not to the ski. And just like that, a stride or two short of the 2 km mark, the race was over!

I wasn’t thrilled (then or even now) about the abrupt end to what was a beautiful day of skiing with 900 of my friends. But if it had to happen that way, I couldn’t have asked (then or now) for a better location and grateful for breaking just the equipment and not a body part! The Snow Gauge on Valley Trail was only a few steps away from the Swedetown chalet and the chalet was the seat of our safety/security team. My initial thought process was to get into the chalet, sort things out and then got back to the stadium area. But Adam, our exceptional event photographer, didn’t hesitate at all to leave his self-assigned post, walked me to his car in the chalet parking lot, stored my skis and gave me his so that I could safely and quickly get back to the stadium.

Although my fall and my skis might have looked like they could have belonged to Ebba Andersson in the recently concluded 2026 Olympics, the similarities end right about there: she is much stronger, far more graceful, gets paid to train/ski and has a few shiny pieces of metal around her neck (or in her sock drawer in Solleftea, Sweden) as a tangible evidence of her progress and prowess. Taking solace in the fact that the fall / broken binding didn’t cost my team a Gold Medal in the Olympics and realizing that I had other responsibilities the rest of the day … I switched over to the 10 km course, stopped at the Cedar Aid Station where Bryant graciously helped take the timing strips off my bib and made it back to the stadium. I had expected the course familiarity to be a home trail advantage but … it wasn’t necessarily for taking shortcuts to the finish line to be a DNF.

The rest of the day progressed like a charm. After a short break to unwind, regroup and gather necessary supplies (read: extra jacket, waxing supplies, radio and a safety vest), I got to be the sweeper for the 10 km / 20 km events. As it had in the past, this role brought back fond memories of my first Great Bear Chase … circa 2014: After starting 3 minutes late (I was using the facilities when my wave started; the next wave had to be delayed so that I could crest the first bunny hill; Rob had to help me put mittens through the pole straps), I had covered this course at my top end race pace … a blistering 13:30 min/km (or about 22 min/mile) while my butt left (not so) fine prints several times every kilometer. I wouldn’t be surprised if the groomers had to regroom the course to cover up all those divets. As it also had in the past, this sweeper role gave me an up close and personal view of some very gritty performances from skiers competing in various distances and styles. Seeing energetic little skiers – about 140 registered (and very likely a record) – participating in an age-appropriate (and parent-approved) distance and style as part of the Junior Bear Chase was a blissful privilege! The day ended shortly after a long and happy home-cooked meal with Jenna, Scott and Zach as we caught up on some 2025-26 FIS Cross Country World Cup action (women and men) held across the pond several hours before.

This, 2026 Great Bear Chase, was the last of the organized (and timed) events of the 2025-26 Winter. Building on 2024-25 Winter which saw my first ever DNF, I managed to add two more – one of each kind (avoidable circumstances under my control and situation outside of my control). While I was (and still am) proud of staying calm in the aftermath and extracting lessons for future use, it’d be swell to cross the finish line the same way I crossed the start line: upright and on my skis … with no broken equipment or body part. For now and through the end of what appears to be a long tail of a beautiful Winter, it’s time to start stashing acorns!

Carpe Skiem!

Thanks be to

the rejections and opportunities life has brought my way, event folks (organizers, sponsors, volunteers, timers, law enforcement officials, photographers, fellow participants and spectators) and my family of good friends, mentors and coaches in and outside of my community for all the unexpected, undeserved and unrewarded acts of kindness and constant encouragement as well as offerings of constructive criticism to improve myself as a human and an athlete. I am eternally grateful to all those who let me train with them, who shared their meals and experiences with me, who helped keep me in good health, who helped me stay the course, and who cheered me on from home or along the course.