CROSS-COUNTRY SKIING
After 20 months of hauling Ben, first in a snuggly frontpack, then in a baby backpack or ski sled, I strapped a pair of miniature skis onto his fire-engine red snow boots and gave him a push.
“Tracks!” he said, delighted, and off he shuffled. “Ben, ski!”
At the apple tree, a few feet beyond the kitchen door, he stopped. “Off,” Ben commanded, shaking his foot like an injured pup.
A few minutes of foot-loose romping later, he tugged on my snow pants. “Ben, ski!” And so it went—off, on, off, on—a child’s Beckett in one act.
And then, suddenly, Ben was 5, and the waiting was finally over. We bee-lined to the annual ski swap and found cheap, used, waxless skis with Solomon bindings and boots. It’s hard, well, almost impossible, really, to justify spending retail on skis kids will outgrow before you can say “college tuition.” Here in Vermont there’s no shortage of up-to-date, used gear. But if ski-swapping isn’t an option, try renting or leasing equipment from a local ski shop or ski area. If you decide to buy new equipment, shop the off-season, when prices drop, and look for money-saving packages. We head to the ski shops in Stowe every summer to scoop up 50- to 75-percent-off deals.
Even the perfect gear, however, doesn’t guarantee happy trails. That’s your job. Keep your first outings short (minutes) and sweet (M&Ms). AMC member Emily Benson is the northern New Hampshire district chair for the New England Nordic Ski Association Bill Koch League and a mother of two. She says, “A lot of parents get caught up on skills...‘I’ve got to get them in a lesson,’ they’ll say. Often all you need is to head kids to a hill, and let them go nuts.”
Even now, at 7 and 10, our kids would much rather tool around on our hill in search of speed and thrill than complete the lovely loop trail through the woods. They’re also terrific alpine skiers for all those years spent flopping around in soft and light cross-country equipment.
Make sure you pack down slopes that are ungroomed, as kids burn out quickly when wallowing. Build some jumps, or plant your poles for a pint-size slalom race. The promise of a warming hut or mid-ski hot chocolate goes a long way, as does inviting friends and taking turns supervising. “The freak-out factor and whining drop off dramatically when you’re not with your own children,” Benson says.
SNOWSHELTER BUILDING
Forget Little House in the Big Woods. Forget even Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone. Last season’s runaway gift book at our house was How to Build an Igloo and Other Snow Shelters, by Norbert E. Yankielun. Frances fixated on Spruce Traps. Ben, Slab Shelters. Together we prodded our snow pack looking for slab. For a long time, we tromped in circles with our snowshoes, attempting to stomp out some “sheet cake”—a technique “too labor intensive and impractical for backcountry use.” And, we decided after awhile, too laborious for backyard use as well.
No matter. As it turned out, we were already masters of the Drift Cave and Expedient Shelters, more universally known as Hole in Snowbank.
It’s a fine day when the pile of snow scraped from our driveway reaches critical mass, anywhere from knee-deep to “Hey, I can climb onto the roof!” height. The snow is not homogeneous, so we’re sure to pack it first with snowshoes and shovels. And we live far off the road, so we don’t have to worry about snowplows burying oblivious kids inside.
In talking to Yankielun, who is a longtime AMC member, a Wilderness EMT, and a research engineer for the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers cold regions laboratory in New Hampshire, I learned that the last thing he does during his igloo-building workshops is a “supervised controlled demolition.” He strongly suggests the same for backyard building. “There’s always going to be one kid who wants to play King Kong on the structure without being concerned about whether there are kids inside.”
Both Ben and Frances cherish their kid-size shovels. Their hands-down favorite is the metal camping trowel, which, as far as I can tell, is indestructible. For snack nooks and decorative shelving, they employ teaspoons, which pretty reliably turn up come spring.
Warning: Though never warranted, shovelsful of excavated snow can and will be used against you and others, especially during bouts of hunger and/or fatigue. If you can’t dig in the spirit of Yankielun—“Digging is much more efficient with two people cooperatively shoveling”—there will be serious consequences. It will be time to come inside.
Get kids outdoors. Photo by Jeb Wallace-Brodeur.
