This humorous journey through an unfortunate, but all-too-typical, winter for many skiers was contributed by Scott Sutherland as an exclusive to xcskiworld.com. Many thanks to Scott and good luck in his continuing treatment.
“Nordic skiing is a very healthy and passionate sport, which by its very nature, however, may engender risks that any skier must be aware of and acknowledge.”
Dearest Nordic Skiing —
How I have missed you these many months! The weatherman says snow is imminent — I am feverish with anticipation. I have laid out the implements of my affection — skis, waxing iron, stretchy one-piece racing suit — so that we may soon reconsummate our treasured bond.
Oh, do not let me wait! You provoke in me a hunger no energy replacement bar can satisfy.
Yours in longing — S
My Precious Love —
The weatherman, curse him, was wrong again — no snow, temperatures in the sixties. But I maintain my vigil! My love for you is as tenacious as the old klister smeared across the bottom of my wax box.
Pining, ever pining — S
Obscure Object of My Desire —
My prayers are answered! All night and all day it has snowed! Tomorrow is the weekend, and I shall be with you once again — how my pulse rate soars! My skis are waxed and structured for new, hard-packed snow, and my racing suit shows off the muscles I have kept toned for you. We shall crush each other in our impassioned embrace.
Hyperventilating uncontrollably — S
Love, Love Me Do —
How can I describe the bliss of the past two days? Cold, clear mornings, my skis cutting long, clean V’s in the corduroy surface of the skating track, the sweet ache in my muscles and lungs — would we could be together always! I am of a mind to follow you anywhere — perhaps I will relocate to Baffin Island, or maybe Lapland.
Your skiing spaniel — Scottums
Precious Snugglepoo —
The past three weeks have been a fever-dream of happiness! Every day, kilometer after kilometer, through woods and meadows, I swoon in your embrace. You are so healthy, so passionate — despite, of course, the obvious risks you engender — that it grieves me to be away from you for even a moment. If the worst should come of the current thaw and we must part, let it not be for long.
May that zone of high pressure forming over Hudson Bay dip down below the 45th parallel, bringing with it a blast of arctic air that would stabilize the tracks into a fast frozen granular so that I may forever be your humble servant — S ______________________________
My Sweet One —
Alas, the worst has come — the thaw has devoured the last of the precious snow, and I must content myself with sit-ups and my Vegard Ulvang highlight videos. Do not despair — we will be rejoined at the next snow.
I only have abs for you — S
My vigil continues — a couple of meager spits of sleet, but no snow.
O, why must snow’s downy caprice come between us? Is our bond so fragile? Forgive me — I teeter on the brink of despair. I have spent days whining pitiably to my favorite Norse gods — mighty Odin, god of wisdom, and nimble Ullr, wicked good skier — that they grant me the strength of carbon fiber that I may weather this trial like water off the back of a big nasty woodchuck. Let us pray that these excellent Norse deities see fit to intervene, and pronto.
Trying not to lose it big time — S
Don’t do this. Please. I beg of you. I didn’t mean to question the Kevlar-like durability of our treasured bond — coat my tongue with molten Swix violet and scour it with a riller if I’m lying. There’ll be snow any day now, I can feel it.
See you soon? — S
Hope this finds you well. Know what month it is? March. How about that? AND I HAVEN’T BEEN ON MY FREAKING SKIS IN TWO MONTHS! WHERE ARE YOU? WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME? I’m sorry; I’m not myself. AND WHO WOULD BE?! I TRAIN LIKE A WOMBAT MONTH AFTER MONTH FOR YOU, AND THIS IS HOW YOU THANK ME?! YOU THINK I HAVEN’T DREAMT OF TAKING UP WITH CANDLEPIN BOWLING?!! Please forgive me — all the waiting, all the worrying, all those millions of sit-ups — I had such hopes for us this season — BUT NO, YOU HAD TO TOY WITH ME A LITTLE BEFORE YOU RIPPED MY HEART OUT AND SPLIT TOWN, DIDN’T YOU?! In all fairness, my friends said you engendered risks — BUT THE HELL WITH THAT! WE’RE THROUGH! DON’T COME BACK, AND DON’T CALL! AND WHILE YOU’RE AT IT, ENGENDER THIS, PUMPKIN!
My Dear Nordic —
I admit I feel a tad foolish re my last missive — especially in light of the two feet of new snow that has fallen overnight — but I think we’ve both said and done things we wish we could take back. Shall we meet on the trail and let bygones be bygones? The season is still young; hope flutters within me like the neon-green tassel affixed to my obnoxious new Eurocool racing cap.
Workin’ my way back to you, babe — S
Sepulchral Plague Upon My Soul —
The snow was beautiful, wasn’t it? How we danced across it, you and I, for a glorious week. Then the snow left. Then you left. Again. Where did you fly to this time, my dear? Into the waiting arms of some skanky Swede or Finn or Alaskan, is my guess. This is it for us.
You’ve eviscerated me for the last time.
Have a nice life. — S
P.S. — I faked all the heavy breathing on the uphills.
This is just to say that I have sold the lot of my nordic gear — skis, waxing irons, Vegard Ulvang highlight videos, even that fabulous pin-up calendar of the Canadian women’s nordic team — and taken up street luging. Forgive me; to unload all that garbage and pursue a real sport felt so sweet, so good. Thought you might want to know.
Thank god almighty, I’m free at last — S ______________________________
POSTSCRIPT: THE FOLLOWING FALL
Dear Nordic —
Can’t help thinking about you every time the snow flies, like it’s doing now. I know I said a lot of stuff last spring, but still — what do you say? Want to give it one more try?
Just the two of us, we can make it if we try — S