Skijoring?

I am pleased to offer our first Senior Ripper guest post. We’ve been asking our audience to contribute, and at last, we have a volunteer! The following was contributed by our good friend and neighbor, Breke Harnagel, who ventured to last weekend’s local Skijouring championships with a group of fellow Senior Rippers. Unfortunately, Gail and I were not able to attend, but I think you will enjoy Breke’s story. What is Skijouring, you ask? Read on!

The annual Utah Skijoring competition took place last weekend, February 21 & 22. Being vaguely familiar with similar competitions in Colorado, I took notice of an advertisement for last year’s Utah event but sadly too late to attend that one. When I learned of this year’s upcoming event, I spread the word among my normal crew of good friends who might be interested in such a thing. To my surprise, the response was enthusiastic. Now the pressure was on. Having induced my friends to burn a weekend afternoon on skijoring, my credibility would take a hit if this thing turned out to be lame.

So, what is skijoring? It’s derived from a Norwegian word meaning “ski driving.” Originating as a mode of travel, it entails a skier being pulled by horses, dogs, snow machines, motorcycles, etc. Competitive equine skijoring came to the U.S. in the early 1900’s and was actually a demonstration sport in the 1928 St. Moritz Olympics. Its popularity in the U.S. mountain west has ebbed and flowed over the decades with periodic eras of popularity in New England as well. Reportedly, during its heyday in the mid 1990’s the purse at the National Finals reached an astonishing $25,000!

With little of this knowledge, other than a general attraction to the notion of horse drawn skiers going fast, our merry group of friends assembled Saturday at the Soldier Hollow Nordic Center in Midway, Utah. As an aside, Soldier Hollow was purpose built for the Nordic events of the 2002 Winter Olympics and has proved to be a truly multipurpose outdoor venue. Everything from World Cup Nordic events, to lesser Nordic competitions, training, recreational pursuits, golf, sheepdog herding competitions, and yes, skijoring.

The competition entails a straight away track where the skier must navigate a course of multiple jumps, gates and ring collections while their horse and rider hauls hell-bent straight through the middle (and must collect one ring themselves). Runs are timed with penalties for missing gates or rings. There are three classes consisting of novice, sport, and open/pro. When we arrived, midway through the sport class competition, there was electricity in the air. It was a blue-bird day, not a whisper of wind, temps in the low 40’s. Perfect for an outdoor winter afternoon. As each team queues at the start, the rambunctious announcer stirs the crowd and shouts encouragement to the teams, the riders spur their mounts with names like “Rooster” and “Itchy” into an impressive explosion of horsepower that continues in a headlong sprint through the course. All the while, some brave guy (or girl) hangs onto a rope for dear life (no handles) while trying to steer left and right through the course, and presumably not kill themselves in the process. And this happened over and over with each run (with no killing, fortunately)! What a hoot!

Our friend Robert, caught up in the excitement, declared his intention to use our videos of the event as training tapes for his entry in the competition next year. In light of this, it may have been unfortunate that we arrived too late to capture the Novice division runs.

During a break in the action I wandered over to look at the board posting run times. While there I overheard an (“ahem”) husky fellow wearing a competitor’s bib lamenting the much faster time posted by his skinny teenage ski racer competitor. His proposed solution . . . next year offer a class for guys over 250 lbs. who are pulled by draft horses! This drew a hearty laugh from everyone within earshot. Maybe he knew what was coming, but shortly after this, as if on cue, a snowboarder ran the course pulled by a Clydesdale as a bit of an exhibition run. While the power of the Clydesdale was impressive, it drew a stark contrast with the fast ponies in the competition. It looked a bit like a diesel tractor showing up at a drag race! Someone said that horses are the real athletes in this competition because you can’t win without a fast horse. This example illustrates that perspective (although a light skier doesn’t hurt either).

Unlike so many over regulated events with many rules, security, and restrictions, this event falls squarely on the casual end of the spectrum. Almost like a large block party, there was a neighborly vibe with camp chairs, dogs, local vendors and food trucks. While a beer garden was offered, there were also many backpackers toting their own supply of preferred beverage.

There is a real charm in attending this type of home-grown entertainment. A mash-up of quintessential mountain west cultures, skiers and cowboys, what’s not to love? Here, there were no big money purses. Instead, winners were awarded belt buckles and beer coolers, along with the thrill of competition and sense of community.

I may need to change my calendar reminder from one-time to annually recurring.

Better start training Rob!