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| The Barely There Ski Race | ||||||||||||||
| By | ||||||||||||||
| Ray Purcell | ||||||||||||||
| Previously known only to the cognoscenti, the center of cross-country skiing in Central South Central California is Bakersfield. Commonly, at least once a winter, and somewhere within 30 miles of Bakersfield, there are abundant accumulations of the sticky gooey white that transform this dusty xeroscape into an ephemeral skiers paradise. Yes, and it is these occasionally contiguous patches of snow that for at least one day a winter attract contrarian cross-country ski racers from other equally notable and world class venues like Davos, Canamore, and Royal Gorge. | ||||||||||||||
| It's true, Bakersfield has attracted a little known enclave of select athletes who have resurrected the arcane practice of Italian Mud Skiing. This covert group trains rigorously year round by secreting it's self among the ranks of the Bakersfield Track Club, the Southern Sierra Fat Tire Association, and the little know Sobriety and Recovery section of the Hash House Harriers. These honed devotes of the sport that they have cryptically reduced to the acronym IMS, have until now trained and competed completely sub rosa. Eschewing any notoriety the IMS team competes in isolation, frequently even from each other. | ||||||||||||||
| But now the IMS team is coming out, and the world of cross-country skiing can marvel at a practice that most certainly has Sonder Nordheim rolling in his grave. However, the real question is, is a town that thinks telemarking is an unsolicited call that disturbs the family dinner ready for IMS? Can Bakersfield, a town already burgeoning with professional sports, support yet another team? And, how can the resources be freed during uncertain financial times to construct a necessary world class venue? | ||||||||||||||
| For the answer to these and other ludicrous questions this reporter will take you inside the Second Annual Barely There Cross-Country Ski Race. By the end of summer, with the temperatures still in the hundreds and the Bakersfield Air Quality Index also still in the hundreds, Team IMS gathers in the back room of Bentz Ski Chalet; who's motto is "It's snowing somewhere now!" There, the special Fischer Gravel and Mud Skis are meticulously tuned for competition. This is the same Austrian ski, with its proprietary amour sintering process that has been used on the famed Bay to Breakers race in San Francisco; the penultimate asphalt course. | ||||||||||||||
| Here in Central South Central California, in the town of Bakersfield, a land of seemingly endless drought, sweltering heat, and unhealthy air quality at least 80% of the year, Team IMS is anxiously awaiting it's 24-48 hour window for competition. Loosely based on such famous citizen ski races as the Birkebiner in Wisconsin, the Barely There Ski Race is a competition with no rules. Instead, this race is conformed around a standard of contrived restrictions. First, the race must occur within a thirty mile radius of Bakersfield; second, there must be some quantity of snow, heavy frost, or worst case freezing fog; and lastly, the race must be completed in it's entirety on skis. | ||||||||||||||
| What follows is this reporter's first hand account of this grueling athletic competition now in it's venerable second consecutive year. Given the unpredictable nature of snowfall in Central South Central California the IMS Team must be race ready on a moment's notice. Early December 2002 and California is already being pummeled by storms with high winds, funnel clouds, and apocalyptic rains brought by the now infamous El Nino effect. Meanwhile, here in Bakersfield we are anxiously anticipating a storm of wrath of God proportions. A storm which in it's wake will incapacitate this community of 250,000 with winds gusting to 15 knots and a smiting 1.29 inches of rain. | ||||||||||||||
| Due to the spontaneous appearance of any accumulation of snowfall and the inability to predict where it may fall within the proscribed 30-mile radius, there is frequently little time to establish the race venue. Therefore, racers are not notified, each competitor must on his or her own recognizance find their way to the nearest likely patch of snow. As the sun rose on race day December 21st this reporter awakened early and hastily consumed a performance diet of a tub of Costco cream puffs washed down with a pot of coffee. With skis, boots, poles, and the wrong set of tire chains thrown into the approach vehicle I drove off in the general direction of snow. | ||||||||||||||
| Intending to drive up Breckenridge Road from the west I was too jittery from the coffee and missed the turn off and so continued out Bena Road. Passing the County Landfill I was taunted by the snows on Breckenridge Mountain. Recalculating my approach, I turned on to the Bodfish Road with the new strategy of acquiring snow within the mandatory 30-mile radius by approaching from the east. Passing through the shanty community of Caliente, I ascended Lyon's grade and then descended into Walker Basin. | ||||||||||||||
| Within an easy hour I arrive at the still open gate of Breckenridge Road near Havilla. With a generous 1-2 inch accumulation of snow on the road I clipped into my mud and gravel skis. With my poles grinding into the roadbed I was off with a powerful kick and glide and scrape. I am floating across a minimum film of mostly water as my skis compress the snow and expose the pavement. How much snow is the minimum. Well, lots less than you'd think, and far less than you'd really want. Since the day was still young and warming, I realized that the return trip would clearly be a challenge of gravel skiing skill. | ||||||||||||||
| Alone and thinking myself far ahead of the following field of competitors I am momentarily stunned to find the tracks of a bear on the road. I quickly regain the mental center so crucial to high caliber competitive performance when I realize that the bear must have certainly been disqualified for not having skis. Never the less, I redouble my efforts and speed after the tracks to close my gap on the still leading Bruin. My spirits soar as I encounter a still steaming bear hort, but am ultimately outgunned by the wily bears evasive tactics when his tracks disappear into in impenetrable thicket of chaparral. | ||||||||||||||
| Continuing my blazing lead I only stop long enough to break out a small cow bell and shake it frantically while bursting out with an ear piercing falsetto "loo looo looo" to cheer myself on following classic Nordic ski race tradition. While fortifying myself on a lunch of kippered herring and Ry Krisp I am passed by a Chevy truck full of teenagers with inner tubes who encourage me on with enthusiastic epithets and empty Budweiser Longnecks in the classic white trash tradition. Little did they know that their passing set a perfectly groomed track which enabled me to even further increase my already astonishing lead in this race with no rules. | ||||||||||||||
| Seven miles into the course and I have reached the arbitrarily established turn around point at Lightner Flats. Reversing course I effortlessly descend over my own track savoring the 5-miles of snow that haven't melted off of the road. I milk the retreating snow down to the very last runnel of melt water that sheets over the road and then according to IMS tradition burn into the pavement. True aficionados of IMS would never wear personal protective gear to save their skins the way those sissy motto-cross racers do, preferring instead to proudly sport the hansom facial scarring reminiscent of the Kresta Kiss of luge fame. | ||||||||||||||
| At the last minute using an unexpected stratagem I hop off of the road and finish the remaining two miles by skiing over sagebrush and creosote bush. The crowd is delirious with this unanticipated tactic; a move emblematic of the resourcefulness that the Barely There Ski Race has become legend for. So with the building of high pressure over Central South Central California and no hope of precipitation in the seven-day forecast, another season of fiercely competitive IMS action comes to a close. | ||||||||||||||
| December, 2002 | ||||||||||||||
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