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News and Information about the People and Programs of Ski for Light, Inc.
Skiing. Sharing. LearningThe mission of Ski for Light is to enhance the quality of life and independence of visually or mobility-impaired adults through a program of cross-country skiing.
I'm writing this letter from the Ridderrenn in Beitostolen, Norway, where I just enjoyed a great day of skiing in really good tracks. This year's SFL group is 11, including the team of 4: Joe Yee, Karen Wood, Dan Beckman, and Leslie Maclin. They are joined by Astrid Mullen, Gunvor Satra, Kevin Whitley, Patrick McManus, and, of course, Charlie Wirth. We celebrated his 98th birthday on Saturday.
At this year's annual international week, more than 270 skiers, guides, and other volunteers were treated to a wonderful week of Colorado's predictable snow, good tracks, the usual array of special interest sessions, evening programs, and get-togethers with friends old and new. Among the group were 32 first-time visually impaired participants or VIPs, 1 first-time MIP (mobility-impaired participant), and 32 first-time guides. That is a testament to our recruitment activities, and to our strongest recruiting tool: Word of mouth. The enthusiasm we all share for this terrific program is infectious and I try to share stories about SFL on planes, at social gatherings -- whenever I have a chance to talk about Ski for Light, especially with active and like-minded people.
2019 Event Chair, Krista Erickson, assembled a dedicated and hard-working event team and was attentive to every detail before, during and after the week. Thank you Krista, and everyone else involved. As always, we couldn't pull off an event of the scale of our international week without all of us pulling together to make it happen.
We also had continuing support from the Sons of Norway. Linda Pederson, Fraternal Director of Sons of Norway and a new SFL board member, stayed over the weekend after the board meeting, helping with setting up the information and sales rooms. International President, Ron Stubbings, didn't get much skiing in because he was there for the entire week, helping in myriad ways behind the scenes; assisting in the info room, working on the silent auction, and on other tasks too many to count. His wife, Riita, was out on the trails as a guide.
That said, we're already beginning planning for SFL 2020, which will be held in Casper, Wyoming, a new venue for us. The dates are February 9-16. We will be staying at the Ramkota Hotel and Conference Center and skiing at Casper Mountain Outdoor Center at McMurry Mountain Park. The hotel is a short 15 minute ride from the airport.
Later in this issue, Judy Dixon, the 2020 Event Chair, will be reaching out for folks to join the planning committee. Keep an eye on the SFL website at www.sfl.org for further information and for applications, which will be posted in early July.
Finally, the year 'round work of Ski for Light is done by members of various committees. Please let me know if you have an interest in becoming involved. You can reach me in Iowa at 515-279-3681, on my mobile at 515-240-6701, or via e-mail at MLElmquist@aol.com. Happy Spring to everyone!
Nestled high up in the Colorado Rockies, the YMCA's Snow Mountain Ranch in Granby made the perfect place for the 44th annual Ski for Light. A whopping 271 skiers, guides, and worker bees descended on the resort for what many often call "the experience of a lifetime." Some came with dog guides or white canes, some came in wheelchairs, some came nervous at the prospect of skiing or of guiding a mobility-impaired or blind skier for the very first time. Everyone came because of a wish to do something bold, and with a spirit of adventure that had brought people from places as close as Winter Park, Colo., and from as far away as China and Norway.
VIP Karen Wood remembers: "Melinda Hollands and I offered Hotel Staff Orientation on Saturday before SFL officially started. There were some staff there from Malaysia. They were in Colorado for a six month work program. They had never seen snow before. They were quite amazed by it. They said they were trying out all kinds of winter sports while staying and working at Snow Mountain Ranch. Many staff told me that week how much they appreciated the orientation about how to interact with blind people, mobility impaired people, and guide dogs. That was heartwarming. It is so cool that as we are traveling around the country having fun and skiing, we are also educating the public about guide dogs and people who happen to have a disability."
There really is something invigorating and magical -- and initially rather exhausting -- about skiing at altitude, and in the Rockies, in particular. Of course, there was no need to wait 'til our skis were pushing powder to get invigorated -- walking or taking the resort's shuttle to the dining commons each morning did the job nicely, as early daytime temperatures were often in the single digits! In case the night owls among us were not sufficiently roused by that nippy, sometimes snowy hike to breakfast, the beautifully-groomed trails awaited, and ski conditions did not disappoint!
Along with the need for our guides to tell us VIPs about upcoming turns in the trail and about changes in terrain, they also had to be alert for the very real possibility of rather up- close moose sightings -- not a factor at every SFL event! The large mammals were roaming around a bit more than not, so excitement and caution were both in the air. First printed in an article titled, "Life-changing Experience for Visually and Mobility Impaired Skiers Returns to Granby" (The "Sky-Hi News," January 26, 2019), VIP Melinda Hollands describes how her guide: "showed me tracks in the snow where there had been a moose and so I got off the trail and knelt down to feel how big they were. That's stuff that we might miss otherwise." I, myself, was living and laughing it up in my sit ski one day with guides Heather Hall and Scott Bertrand, when we ended up needing to curtail our afternoon ski about half- way down the 5-K trail because it seemed that about 5 or so moose were a little distance ahead on the tracks, and weren't showing signs of going anywhere fast!
The days were full of exertion, laughter, and shouted greetings as we passed one another on the trails, and the evenings were filled with dances, good-natured bidding wars at our annual silent auction, and special interest sessions on everything from ski waxing tips to mindfulness meditation. Peter Slatin recalls: "It was also really special to participate in a popular Trivia Night (the first I remember at SFL). Dan Beckman -- a longtime guide and physician from Indiana -- clearly spent long hours coming up with a remarkable array of challenging questions for the crowd, and he was rewarded with a full house and plenty of friendly -- discussion -- about the correct answers." We were also treated to evenings of heart-warming, beautiful music as many of us gathered for several evenings running to fill the lobby of Indian Peaks with song, weaving harmonies around the familiar strains of, "Michael Row the Boat Ashore," "Here Comes the Sun," and dozens more timeless favorites. Nancy Stevens and Judy Potter had brought their guitars, and we all brought our voices, creating some of the most magical moments of the week.
Along with the chance to ski and to shoot an audio-guided laser rifle, a guide's race was held for the first time: Some guides skied hard, and others just enjoyed the chance to find their own rhythm in the tracks and to revel in the fun and novelty of the friendly competition as they each headed for the finish.
Race day brimmed with its typical excitement, and it found Yours Truly in brand-new ski pants and jacket, allowing for notably more freedom of movement in my sit ski than I'd ever experienced wearing my more constricting bibs.
Karen Wood recalls: "Kate was a real doll of a guide! She was so much fun! She helped me with my glide and when I put that together with the strong snowplow that I developed at the New England Regional SFL with guide Joan's help, I was a much better skier this year. Joan told me that the secret to snowplowing is that you have to have an attitude -- "don't let those skis take you where they want to take you, you make them go where you want them to go." That clicked for me and my snowplow has been much stronger ever since. I only fell once on race day and Kate said that it didn't count since no one saw it -- oops, sorry Kate, I guess I shouldn't have told anyone. But hey, I cut 45 minutes off of my 10k time!"
Peter Slatin sums it up well: "I am always surprised that a course that takes forever to complete during the week suddenly is finished all too soon during the race. It doesn't really matter that I can barely breathe at this point - the sense of achievement and pride I feel on being welcomed by cowbells, shouts, and hugs inevitably brings me to tears. Of course, these are tears of joy, but also of wonder at my great fortune at being part of this group."
On departure day, I boarded the bus for the two-and-a-half-hour ride down the mountain to the Denver airport. The night before, I'd rocked out on the dance floor with a hired band, and had spent precious time with my guides. Now, as we pulled away from Snow Mountain Ranch, the strains of a John Denver classic reached my ears -- Heather had pulled up the song on her phone, as she knew I'd been hoping to hear it. "The Colorado Rocky Mountain high, I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky." I sang along quietly with a lump in my throat. Someday, I thought, when all that is left is love and memories, it is these shining moments that I will carry with me on that trail, too!
It's a steep, snow-packed walk from the dining commons to Aspenbrook Lodge. I learned that on my way to First and Second Year Guide Training in one of that lodge's conference rooms. I experienced it again, helping a VIP after breakfast. At times, he let both feet slide while I used the less packed snow on the very edge for traction. By then, I had guided this guide trainer for about an hour on skis, but was he really that trusting? The path was hard as concrete and a fall would be painful. Or, we might slide to the bottom.
Later that day, I was hanging out with my skier back at the lodge. Anthony is gregarious, catching up with everyone. He fell into an easy banter with another VIP whose concern of the moment seemed to be hosting parties later in the week. Main problem: "I don't know how to get what we need."
My chance!
"I'm Tim from Colorado. I'm a local, so I drive home every night. Give me a shopping list and I'll set you up."
As fate would have it, days passed before I could get to the store. So, here's my offer to the party host: "Let's drive into town together to shop. That way you pick out what you want and you're stocked for happy hour this evening." We drove to Rocky Mountain Moonshine, where I was able to proudly introduce my new friend to old friends who were hanging out there.
Arriving back at the lodge, we take our bounty upstairs, word goes out and the host's room slowly fills. I play bartender as I get introduced to a posse of VIPS -- SFL veterans that get to ski only this one week every year.
The dinner hour approaches and we start filing out of the room and down the hallway. "Tim, come up here and take the lead," someone says. I dutifully scoot up the side to the head of the line, and navigate out through the narrow halls and doors. We get to the foot of the steep hill up to the dining commons.
"Tim, aren't you the singer?"
Anthony and I often sing as we pass other pairs. Has the word gotten out?
"Sing the chain gang song!"
It must be a bit like being on a chain gang with your movements tightly coupled to the person on each side of you as the gang traverses the hill to dinner. But what chain gang song? The Pretenders? Sam Cooke? Those lyrics and melodies don't reveal themselves to me.
"How about some Bill Withers?," I counter.
"Lean on me, when you're not strong --"
I belt it out as loud as I can and I hear everyone behind me join in. We make our way to dinner in joy and camaraderie.
After dessert, I look for the chain gang song lyrics on the web. That would have been fun, too. But how about the rest of the Bill Withers lyrics? I pull them up, zoom to a size that Anthony can read, and pass my phone to him.
"I like the verse about pride," Anthony says as he hands back my phone. "I didn't remember that one."
I didn't remember it either.
Please swallow your prideLet me swallow some of my pride. I have medical issues with my eyesight, something I share with my father and grandfather. It's a progressive disease, but the prognosis is good; yet, it's not why I volunteered for SFL.
Sometimes in our lives, we all have pain
We all have sorrow
But if we are wise
We know that there's always tomorrow
The ski week in Granby was a respite, as I escaped the private sorrows of the rest of my life. Being welcomed unconditionally into the SFL family was a reward beyond anything I imagined.
Lean on me, when you're not strongMore than 7,000 skiers lined up Saturday to take on the American Birkebeiner classic - a 55km Nordic ski race from Cable to Hayward - each with their own personal goals in mind. Included in the mass start was Tim McCorcle of Seattle, Wash., who was preparing for a uniquely personal endurance quest. While the other racers were likely sizing up the competition and taking stock of the terrain, McCorcle was focusing on following the commands of Michael Evelo as the pair glided through the snow.
McCorcle, you see, is blind and skis by following the voice commands of a Ski for Light guide.
Ski for Light is a one-week program held annually where guides direct and teach the blind and mobility-impaired cross-country skiing. The sessions are held all over the country.
"We've been building up to this for almost two years," Evelo said, noting that he met McCorcle at Ski for Light.
"A few years ago I guided Tim for the whole week at Ski for Light, and I also guided him off and on other times, and was impressed with how good he is at skiing," Evelo explained.
Evelo has been with Ski for Light for five years and McCorcle is vice president of Ski for Light and is on the board of directors. Half of the members are sighted and the other half are not. The organization is 100 percent volunteer run.
"It's a very well-run organization I can't say enough about it, it's been a lot of fun," Evelo said.
McCorcle went totally blind at age 45 as the result of a hereditary disease. He used to downhill ski in Alaska but quit from the mid-1990s until 2012.
After his father passed away, he decided to find a way to get back on the slopes.
"I decided that he would not have been happy with me if I let all my dreams die. So the fall of 2011 I started looking for an activity to do and I just looked up 'Nordic skiing' and 'blind' and I found an organization called Ski for Light and I went to my first Ski for Light event," McCorcle explained.
His first day back on skis included a number of falls, but the second day he stayed on his feet. Skiing just came back to him, he said.
"The feeling came back being on snow and sliding and going around corners and up and down hills," McCorcle said. "I spent a long time learning how to ski and it felt the same without sight as it did with sight and I've been doing it ever since."
Evelo has been skiing the Birkie for 10 years. His extensive experience is key as he uses verbal cues to let McCorcle know how sharp of a turn to make, the steepness of a hill and more. They do classic skiing so there are tracks groomed in the snow that McCorcle can follow.
"There's stretches without tracks and we have a way of dealing with that, a lot of times on the steeper downhills the tracks will either be worn out or I'll say don't have tracks that you can snowplow and in those cases I'll be in front of him and I'll be clicking my poles and constantly make noise and he's following the noise," Evelo explained.
McCorcle skied the Birkie Tour in January to get a taste of what he was in for.
"It was humbling but a good experience because I got to know the first part of the trail and hills, and it made me realize I needed to spend the next six weeks skiing as much as I could, which I did and now I feel much better about the event on Saturday," McCorcle said Thursday.
"It's one thing to guide a blind person through hills and that kind of thing, but when you're amongst thousands of other skiers it's another thing," McCorcle added. "I have to be responsible for what's around me and listening very carefully and paying attention and in this circumstance there's no question, whatever Mike says is what I have to do."
"In the end I hope we just have a good ski together and if we make our time or beat it that's all the better," he added. "I just want to experience the event, the people and the enthusiasm."
The duo's goal was to complete the American Birkebeiner in 6.5 hours. They fell a little short, Evelo reported Monday.
"We didn't quite make our 6:30 minute goal for the American Birkebeiner," he said. "Tim's finish time was 8:05. He did a great job on the very challenging race course! He really put in a great never give up effort and put on a great finish. When we got towards the end when the terrain was safe for him to really go and while going across Lake Hayward he passed at least 15 other skiers, impressive!!"
While the main event was Saturday, the days leading up to it were filled with fun skiing activities.
There was the Giant Ski Thursday afternoon, where participants are on one set of skis over 20-feet-long. Six skiers get on and race up main street for about two blocks. McCorcle was set to lead, followed by Evelo and other Ski for Light guides.
Two sets race at a time, with up to 30 teams that can participate. The race is timed.
On Friday morning, McCorcle won the adaptive ski event, a 3.7K ski race for blind and mobility-impaired individuals, with more than 10 minutes to spare, Evelo reported.
Then on Saturday approximately 7,500 individuals in the Birkie, and another 3,500 or so in the Kortelopet - which is about half the length of the Birkie - took off, gliding along the snow.
Evelo and McCorcle were in the classic's fifth wave, which left at 9:35 a.m. McCorcle wears a blind skier bib when he races and said he always gets encouragement from other skiers.
"I'm nervous and excited, it's something I've never done before and the longest single-day ski I've done before," McCorcle said. "The enthusiasm around the Birkie, it's something not to be missed, especially if you're somebody who's a cross-country skier."
Evelo shared with McCorcle what it is like to ski the last stretch of the race.
"There's finishing on Main Street, there's nothing like it, there's nothing like it," Evelo said. "If there's a light wind out of the west you're about halfway across the lake and you're hearing people downtown already."
For McCorcle, skiing is a feast for the senses.
"I just think for me cross-country skiing is such a joy," he said. "Especially as a blind person, it's an activity that I get to do and it gives me a sense of freedom and independence that I don't get anywhere else as a blind person, but the beauty of it is when I'm skiing with a guide it's a shared experience," he said.
Ski for Light welcomes guides of varying levels as well as blind or mobility-impaired skiers. For more information on Ski for Light, visit www.sfl.org.
To all my new dearest and most precious SFL "family,"
Today is Monday, March 4, just 4 weeks and a day since I saw all of your happy faces, and heard our laughter as we congregated inside the Indian Peaks sliding door, waiting for the shuttle to go to breakfast or dinner. I would often call out through the crowd, "Does anyone feel like walking?" and there was always one or a group of you who would cheerfully call back, "Yes!" We'd find each other, and that stroll would be the beginning of yet another Colorado Rocky Mountain friendship. Our enjoyment of the invigorating mountain air would continue after meals as we made our way back to Indian Peaks, often arm in arm with our new friend, sort of "the blind leading the blind"! We would laugh at that thought, and we'd laugh once again when we actually successfully reached our destination!
Upon returning to Indian Peaks, another favorite spot was the welcoming fireplace, where one was sure to find more warmth, a friendly introduction, and interesting conversation. My favorite spot to sit was on the stone hearth. I learned much about our U.S. states through hearing stories of each person's home turf. Another of my favorite fireside conversations involved the sharing of Iphone and computer knowledge and tips. We all had something to learn and to contribute.
Woven into and around all of these precious moments, of course, were the sunshine-filled hours spent each day with our devoted guides. My guide's constant encouragement and patience helped me to focus on the basics of cross-country skiing as we set out slowly and gently each morning, gliding over the perfectly snow-packed mountainside.
A poignant and pivotal moment occurred out on the trails: Setting out one morning, I began feeling the familiar, off-balanced, slight dizziness that is becoming more frequent and noticeable these days, as I'm gradually losing the rest of my sight. This sensation occurs especially when I'm moving on skis, and usually results in a flop as I try to slow to a stop. For the past 10 years, I've been grasping and straining to catch any little glimpse or splash of color out of the corner of my eye, or to make out a tall tree along the trail. I've just been afraid I'd miss or lose my last chance to catch a fading glimpse of my shadow in front of me, or a sunrise, or a smile on a new friend's face. So, this particular morning, during the dizzy spells, as I struggled with not falling down and taking my guide down with me (while trying so hard not to miss the beauty of the day), I gradually felt myself becoming exhausted.
I shared these feelings with my guide. I don't know whether it was fatigue, curiosity, or bravery, but I found myself suddenly declaring that I wanted to try something; something I hadn't attempted since the onset of my decline in sight -- I would keep moving, but just wanted to close my eyes to rest them. So, we started to ski forward with my eyes closed, and that's when I think a mini miracle began to happen: The dizziness slowly subsided. My eyes just rested as the sun warmed their lids and the rest of my face, and the swish of our skis made their own music as we all passed one another on the trail, calling out happy greetings as we went. A peace like I've never before experienced seemed to pour through me -- from the top of my hatless head, out to my mittenless fingertips! My guide suggested that she hold my poles, and that freed me even more to just sway gently with the glide, arms swinging comfortably. At that moment, from somewhere deep inside, I just knew: Everything was going to be all right when my sight was gone, and I'd be able to deal with it.
We skied together like this-- eyes closed, no poles-- for maybe 15 minutes. When I finally opened my eyes again, I was acutely aware of an almost-chaos of too bright light and unidentifiable shadows, and a sense of mixed-upness and confusion. For the first time, I'm truly believing that there really might be a certain kind of beautiful peace when my eyes eventually do take their rest --
Last year in Nevada was my first SFL event, and my dear friend, Barbara Lewis, who has been attending for many years, brought me as her guest. I had heard so many beautiful stories of SFL from her, and will always cherish the memories of that first year together. And I can't wait for Wyoming, and for the making of more new friends and memories! Is it almost time to pack yet? (Smile)!
Love you all!
It seems like yesterday that we left SFL 2019, but while all those great memories are fresh in our minds, it is time to start thinking about and planning for SFL 2020. As Event Chair, it is my job to put together a great team-a team consisting of both long-time attendees and those who are relatively new to SFL. In this way, we have a balance of those who can call upon their own experience to plan the event and those who can bring new ideas, question some of the old ways, and provide that spark of new that is so valuable to every organization.
If you are interested in working with the 2020 event committee, please drop me an e-mail at Judy@JudyDixon.net or give me a call at 703-276-9191. When you do contact me, please answer the following questions:
1. Are there specific areas within the event that are of particular interest to you?
2. Would you prefer a job that is more people-oriented or more data-oriented?
3. Do you like working with data? Do you have skills using Excel?
4. Would you be able to do a job that would require a fair bit of work prior to the event or would you rather have one where most of the work is done at the event?
I am looking forward to hearing from many of you.
At 12:30 p.m. on Saturday, February 2, I was still over one hundred meters from the finish line of the ten-kilometer race. I had left the starting gate nearly two hours earlier, on only my sixth day of cross-country skiing. My left knee and right rib cage were hurting from falls earlier in the week. My right knee was stiffening from a fall around the eight-kilometer mark. Thigh muscles that hadn't been exercised in decades were making their presence known to me. I was gasping from a combination of high altitude and an aerobic workout beyond anything I had tried since going blind. And a thought kept going through my mind - - I had paid good money to feel this way!
How had I gotten here? I had been an avid downhill skier in my younger days, but first life, and then blindness, had kept me off skis for more than a quarter of a century, and I had thought that I would never ski again. Then last fall, due to a chance remark in a casual conversation, I learned about Ski for Light. Well, I thought, this I have to try. By this time, the deadline was fast approaching, and I had to sweat out a couple of weeks on a waiting list before I learned that I would be able to attend; but, on a beautiful day in late January, I found myself trying to balance on skinny skis. As I headed for the tracks, it hit me that this was the first time I was back in the mountains, much less back on the snow, since going blind. How I had missed that feeling!
And so it began: The first couple of days were spent learning how to go forward without sliding halfway back on every stride. My guide, Carlin Rauch, refused to let me give up on myself, and she pushed and pulled and dragged me past whatever I thought my limits were. When there was a downhill section I could not ski without falling, we spent an afternoon skiing down the hill and climbing back up until I made it down without falling. When I began to doubt my ability to ski ten kilometers before nightfall, she insisted that we would compete in the ten-K race! Gradually, I was able to ski farther and faster. On Thursday, we completed the entire ten-K course, and I knew that I should, at least, be able to finish.
But that had not prepared me for the excitement of race day. So there I was, one hundred meters from the finish line and almost out of gas; yet, Carlin was still pushing and pulling me, and I could hear the cowbells clanging at the finish line. In a final effort, I made it across. I had bettered Thursday's time by three-quarters of an hour!
Then I knew that all the aches and pains had been worthwhile. I had not been competing against other racers, but against my own limitations. Some of those limitations were real (blindness), some real but correctable (lack of experience), but many were self-imposed; fears that there were things I could not do -- fears that could only be overcome by doing those things. So I say thank you to all who made this event possible. Thank you for getting me back into the mountains, and back on the snow, on skis again. Thank you for helping me to do what I thought I couldn't. Thank you to all the new friends I made -- friends I would never have met if I had not gone blind.
Now it's been a month since the week in Granby, and the aches and pains have healed. A storm has just passed through the San Francisco area, and, in the mountains, the snow is fresh and deep. I'm going skiing!
There are eight local affiliates of Ski for Light, Inc. scattered throughout the United States. All of them have a winter program centered on cross-country skiing, and several of them also have a summer program as well. The summer programs range from week-long programs to single day trips or hikes. The Regionals that usually offer summer activities are the Black Hills, Montana, New England, Northeast Pennsylvania and Sierra affiliates. You can learn the details of what each Regional is offering this summer by visiting their respective websites for their latest news. Each is linked directly from the Regionals page on the SFL website at www.sfl.org/events/regionals
Our thanks go to the following companies that have provided products or services to help support Ski for Light. Many of these companies have stood behind us for years - and we're grateful. Be sure to think of our friends when you're gearing up for your next adventure.
JanSport * Beyond Coastal Sun Care * Black Diamond * Borton Overseas Travel * Clif Bar * Columbia * Dansko * Darn Tough Socks * Energizer * Farm to Feet * Fjallraven * Glerups * Haiku * Injinji * Kavu * Klean Kanteen * Kuhl * Leki * Lodge Cast Iron * Peet Shoe Dryers * Travelon * Wallaroo Hat Company
The SFL Bulletin is published three times a year. It is available in ink-print or via
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The current as well as past issues of the Bulletin are also available online at www.sfl.org/bulletin. In addition to an online edition that may be read in your browser, you will find a downloadable pdf version of the current issue.
For future Bulletins, remember that your contributions and feedback are always most welcome. You may submit articles as e-mail or as a word or text attachment. Send all items to:
Andrea GoddardThe deadline for the Summer 2019 Bulletin is June 15, 2019. We look forward to hearing from you.
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