09 Jan, 2011
Embracing winter, and trying our hand at cross-country skiing
Posted by andrea tomkins in: - Ottawa for kids|Easy ways to make kids happy|Ottawa
This is the SECOND time I’m writing out this blog post. I lost the first in a technological mishap. Gah.
–
I’ve always maintained that if you want to survive an Ottawa winter with all of your marbles intact you have to participate in Ottawa winter. Get some skates/skis/boots, invest in some woolies, and get outside, otherwise, mentally, you’re going to be a mess. Hiding your whimpering little self up in a electric blanket cocoon is no way to spend five months out of every year. My advice to anyone who asks (not to mention, my new slogan) is Accept Winter, Or Winter Will Kill You.
Many moons ago, long before there were children on the scene, Mark and I bought ourselves some cross-country skis. It snowed heavily that year. And I remember Mark and I taking the skis out for a test run on Christmas Eve. We skied down the street, where his parents were living at the time.
In Ottawa, or trails of choice were always within the Stoney Swamp network near Bell’s Corners. Woody, chimpmunky, mostly flat… it was perfect for two skiers who liked to ski but weren’t actually very accomplished. One time we even endeavoured to go on a moonlight ski. I can’t believe we did that. It was pretty and scary in equal measure. The woods by day: pretty, full of living things! The woods by night: scary, full of evil animals and kidnappers!
I found out I was pregnant with Emma in the fall of 1998. I didn’t want to ski while I was pregnant. Ferchrissakes, I could run into a tree or something! And then she was a little babe. I COULD technically strap her to my back, what what if I fell and crushed her! And so on and so on.
Once the girls got old enough – say four or five – every year we declared that THIS would be the year we took up skiing. And we never did. WELL. This year is finally the year. We took up skiing. But I tell ya, it was quite a conundrum. Should we invest in downhill skiing (flying down steep hills at fun and terrifying speeds?) or cross-country (gliding through forests, enjoying nature)? There are many pros and cons that we had to consider. Both are fun, family activities. (In fact, this is something I really like about skiing. I see families with teenagers skiing together all the time, and I think that’s really cool.)
Downhill skiing is a bigger financial investment and requires a greater time committment, whereas cross-country is less expensive, and I think there’s greater opportunity to do a “pick-up and go” at a moment’s notice. There are lots of trails nearby, many of which are totally free.
Trailhead was promoting kid’s ski packages before Christmas, and it sealed the deal for us. Don’t quote me on prices, but it was about $250 per kid; boots, skis, bindings, poles. You pay half, and you can turn the skis in at the end of the season and not pay any more (thus, making it a rental of sorts) or keep the equipment and be billed the second half of the lump sum. Pretty good for those of us with kids who insist on GROWING TALLER AND TALLER.
Mark and I already have skis (albeit 15 years old), and there was technically no good reason to buy anything for us. I looked longingly at the cool new boot and ski styles. My boots are so ugly I could die.
The first thing we did with the girls was take them out in the backyard so they could get the hang of it. The second thing we did, by coincidence, was take them to Calabogie Peaks, a popular downhill ski resort. Mark had some work do to there over the holidays so we tagged along. The girls had a private lesson, which was amazing. (Thank you Calabogie. You are the tops!) I didn’t realize how much it would help them with their cross-country. Stopping, turning, slowing down … these are all skills they were able to apply on Saturday when we finally took them out XC-skiing for real.
Our destination: Westboro Beach. I know, it’s not a place that comes to mind for great skiing, but as soon as we stepped out of the car I was glad we’d come.
It was a very gray day; incredibly misty and still. This beach that we know so well in the summer was totally transformed:
We parked at Kirchoffer Ave and skied towards the beach, and then took a right along the pathway (towards the parking lot and the ruins).
We had the whole place to ourselves. You couldn’t hear anything but the shush shush of the skis sliding over the snow, interrupted by the odd crow or chickadee. We saw evidence of warmer seasons we once knew, like snow-covered picnic tables and bird nests of summers gone by:
… and park benches and their shadows of weary pedestrians who once lingered here:
It felt like we were on the edge of a wintery dusk. It was heavenly, so white and beautiful, the snow meeting the sky in grays and whites that made everything seem like a faded old photograph.
The vista was spectacular. It took my breath away.
The girls were great. They took to skiing like, dare I say, ducks to water. Speaking of which, we saw a duck in the water, a male mallard perhaps, pictured below as a tiny dot in front of a nearly hidden interprovincial bridge:
At our self-imposed halfway point we stopped for a break. Sarah brought some leftover Christmas chocolate to share with her sister and dad:
Here’s a tip for ya. Turn back while you still have energy reserves! When kids (and, um, adults) get tired they’re more likely to tumble, and no one wants a face full of snow or a twisted ankle.
Our trail wasn’t going in a circle, we just went in one direction and then double-backed, towards a very dim circle of sunshine:
Thankfully, we had enough juice left to take a few trips down the sledding hill. (The same one we visited over Christmas. Remember the eyeball incident? Gah.)
We stayed on the fluffy side of the hill, away from the steeper middle part which had been trodden down by young sledders. The snow here was thick and deep, especially near the bottom, where it felt like my skis were cutting snow like scissors through paper. It was incredibly satisfying and happy moment.
A word about hills. They’re hard to climb when cross-country skiing. It takes a lot of effort to get up a hill, but coming down, man, that’s fun. (A good metaphor for life, don’t you think? Good things are work working for.)
That was our Saturday! Pretty neat eh? I can’t wait to go out again. Next time I’m bringing hot chocolate.
What about you? Do you like to ski?