Jan’s Grand Traverse Experience

My 2025 Grand Traverse, a 40-mile point to point backcountry ski race from Crested Butte to Aspen, Journey.

The Grand Traverse (GT) race was familiar to me because I sold several Fischer Superlight Crowns to my friend’s son who requested a durable no-wax ski to climb and descend a bunch of hills in Colorado. Twenty years later I never planned that I too, would seek out equipment and knowledge to take me to the GT finish line. The past decade I gleaned insight into downhill ski equipment because we added Alpine to our Gear West specialty sports campus. New ski offerings in the Back country / Ski Mountaineering / Alpine Touring arena expanded the ‘skinning category’ beyond that of Telemark skis and bindings.  The Fischer Superlight Crown or just the pure skate ski set up chosen by athletes in the formative years of the GT were rendered obsolete.  These light, yet speedy downhill carbon ski and boot options hit the market and have become the racer’s choice.

My background? I was most familiar with the myriads of “back country” set-ups we carried in Nordic as compared to our Alpine shop offerings. My knowledge is all-things cross-country skiing and racing. But when natural snow allowed, I loved the brief ‘in the woods’ touring on wider, inexpensive no-wax skis such as the Fischer Spider Crown or the metal edged Rossi BC 80.  Several years ago, friends and I hired a guide for the Wapta Traverse, a multi-day Canadian hut to hut tour and I fell in love with ski touring. Yet my daily retail Gear West life left me with little time for any additional skiing other than flat land Nordic training.

When my friend Mara phoned me late evening in early December and teased me about signing up with her for this Grand Traverse race (the event required partners), I blindly jumped in,  “Why not!”.   I yearned to expand my ski experiences outside that of our man-made 5k Nordic loops before my aging joints confined me to a couch.

In our quest to prepare for this Grand Traverse, never was there more truth in the  statement, “It’s not the destination, it’s the journey”.  Working in the ski business left me little time to travel out west to prepare for the GT.  To simulate the lengthy time on skis, I classic toured for hours by slogging over the (flat) parklands and frozen lakes on slow, stable no-wax metal edge touring skis.  Memories of training for the Leadville Mountain bike race by riding home from triathlons through unspectacular cornfields should have sounded warning bells. To really race in ‘out west’ conditions one must train at altitude and practice all things mountain technical.

To set the stage of our GT engagement, we arrived at Crested Butte Thursday before the Saturday evening start.  Selection and organization of all the stuff that the GT requires us to carry filled our time and fueled our concern. Issues big and small bombarded our minds. Were any participants from sea level? Was there anyone older than I (65.7 yrs)? Would my borrowed Garmin inReach show my friends how slowly I alpine ski?  What containers would best carry the required 3 liters of water and not freeze? Could we stuff ALL our nutrition into a waist pack?  Was it stupid to consider investing in a carbon shovel since my metal one was SO heavy (yes). Why was there a demo on how to properly wax skins at the expo and would it make a difference?  And dang, my skins were heavier than all others.  Should I tape my feet or wear a 2m ankle sleeve as suggested by a more experienced racer?  (I had never hiked in my backcountry boots more than three hours). Our minds were swirling with speculation.

In my search for a replacement water bladder, since mine acquired a pinhole leak (while in a suitcase?), we visited the Crested Butte Alpineer store recommended to us by a  wandering soul wearing a GT shirt. Inside we met the most animated, engaging, fit and helpful lady athlete ever.  Jari Hiatt was a sponsored endurance athlete and a racer of many GT’s. For over an hour she patiently answered our race questions in a way only a women could. Jari explained the course in detail and set up a ‘partner tether’ which she explained was optional but extremely necessary in the advent one of us felt badly.  She reviewed her thoughts on fueling, reminded us to blow back on our drink hose every time we bent down to switch skins, and reiterated the power of positivity. We returned to our room at the Elevation Hotel feeling significantly more knowledgeable but concerned about all we could not control, altitude and mountaineering experience. 

The next morning and day of the GT start, my partner and I attempted to store up on sleep, but our busy minds had other plans.  So, we concentrated on repacking our backpacks for the 100^th time and then added our water…dang liquids are heavy.  I brought all sorts of carrying choices: thermal collapsable flasks, an insulated container for hot soup, my son’s good luck plastic ‘jug’ used during his Navy Seal’s Hell week and my much-improved new hydration bladder with thermal tubing. We practiced quickly sliding each other’s skis into the sides of our backpacks, a move all our fellow racers most likely perfected during prior ski touring adventures.  The GT scheduled drop dead cut off times along the course to prevent skiers from tackling the last climb and descent, Aspen Mountain, in the dark. Very little if any leisure skiing could happen given 40 miles of mountain wilderness needed to be traversed.  Because of the unknowns, we nervously futzed until the afternoon racer’s briefing.

Waiting for the meeting I continued to carbo-load and stare at all the lean, rugged athletes with their lightweight ski-mo equipment. Those expecting to finish in under 8 hours lightened their load considerably by carrying tiny backpacks with less water and food and using shorter, narrower skis and skins. Weight adds hours to one’s time; being faster is seriously important in the quest of making cut-off times. So, in the performance spirit, we purchased a teeny tool kit to reduce 3 ounces. 

The racers’ meeting introduced the efforts by the GT Field Team, who were out on course for five days prior to the start to mark and set check points and evaluate snow stability for avalanche potential.  The sobering opinions by those shoveling ski paths through cornices and erecting snow bridges over thawing streams, convinced the organizers to alter the GT’s original course.  A re-route to Aspen by way of hiking 7-8 miles on a snowless mountain trail to avoid an expanse of open water was accepted by cheering racers. Around 3:00pm we returned to our room to nap and prepare for the evening’s launch.

The remaining afternoon I pondered whether to add run shoes to my pack. I also read my WW2 book on the D-Day Landings. These stories reminded me how fortunate we are to choose our adventures and to enjoy the fact we would not be shot at when beginning our midnight climb into the unknown.

I then heard Mara yelp, “The GT is cancelled!”   I thought Mara was experimenting with an early April Fool’s joke, but nope, what a mind jam!  The Grand Traverse Ski to be held Saturday night 11:59, March 30^th was cancelled at 6:30pm. All my wondering about embarking on a major 14+ hour (my estimated time) ski event in the dark, cold, and high altitude was never experienced.  For the first time in 27 years organizers shut down the race via a late evening email after announcing a reroute of the trail earlier in the day. Apparently, the snow conditions continued to deteriorate throughout the afternoon and became dangerously unstable. Temperatures reached 45F on high mountain passes. Water crossings became impassable … reporting “snow penetration up to 3 feet on skis and waist deep in boots”. AND winds were forecast to be 30 mph with gusts to 50. The race organizers concluded they “could not safely send racers into those types of conditions.”

One entire winter spent preparing for an event I could only imagine and then … poof…Gone!  What still hung on was the extra 4000 calories ingested into my belly.   After an incredulous and paralyzing moment, we decided to do what every other amped racer would choose (and did!).  We grabbed our fully loaded pack, skis, boots, and poles, left the suffocating hotel room, and skinned up and down the Crested Butte mountain the entire evening.

Friends inquire if I was disappointed. Of course, however lately much of my ski adventures and ski business has been altered due to warming weather conditions. I learn to ride with upheavals and unpredictability. Although the GT adjustment was larger due to its challenging scope, the journey to attempt this granddaddy backcountry endurance race increased color, knowledge, and love of attempting the unusual, into my life.

Stuff I now know from training for the GT:

The Gear West sponsored Buck Hill (MN)  Uphills. These Friday morning uphill skis forced me to execute multiple skin and binding changes. The many 15 sec downhill rides also added experience to my alpine training.

To turn on my headlamp in the dark with frozen fingers.  Wear hand liners! Practice is needed to correctly adjust the brightness while battling weather elements.

Size ski googles correctly.  Don’t suffer with free but too large warranty googles. Large goggles don’t fit well between the nose bridge and the helmet. Pony up Jan! Don’t suffer a bruised nose to save a buck.

Not any ski pant will stay up when using a pack. I now understand the reason for flat wide waist bands on the back of thermal backcountry pants and the need for snow skirts. I have never fallen so much attempting a downhill in non-groomed, tree filled, mushy snow.  Pants that get pushed down the butt by a heavy pack or stupid fall invite a pile of snow around the stomach.

Skin differences. Wide, long, or short skins exist. Stickiness varies. Stay away from dog hair. Learn what works and types of skin that could work during given snow conditions and length of travel.  I like understanding how to work with skins and best carry them.

The term “underfoot” and what it means– I skied an “80”. Serious Ski Mo folks ski way narrower “underfoot”.

The WHY of Alpine poles. Originally, they seemed so useless as compared to Nordic.  

Glasses with gradient lenses are too dark for dusk skin skiing.

An understanding of backpack designs and how heavy 25lbs is for racing.  Familiarity with packs and knowing what to look for in a pack would have saved me from buying two additional bags before borrowing a friends.  The need to carry in/on the pack avalanche shovels, probes, skis and to access small items quickly dictates a specific design.  Weight requires a solid waistband for back support. Only Ski Mo elites can make do with the super cool, super light race packs from Camp.

The altitude disadvantage.  Ski mountaineering at 12,000+ ft is HARD (unless you live in Leadville). Two days of altitude adjustment is worse (to me) than five days at altitude. I am told two weeks are recommended but in the future I will at plan for at least one week acclimation.

Always lock in (pull up) the front of backcountry bindings when changing from ski touring to downhill. Yes, my skis embarrassingly popped off in front of other racers. Luckily, I had activated the brakes.  

Wear Liners under mitts to adjust buckles, lights, skis, zippers…. in cold weather.

Blow back water in your drinking tube to prevent freezing especially when bending over to apply skins.

Roll onto the tip of the ski boot when skinning and lean back onto the heel when climbing steep hills.

Waxing of skins. It’s a thing.  

Food! Reduce the packaging weight of squeezy fruit pulp by combining it all into a couple of containers. I am sure ultra runners do something similar in unsupported events.  

Never eliminate a Gore-Tex jacket as protection against the wind on mountain tops especially during a warm start.

Questions I still have:

Would I have adjusted to the altitude as the race progressed? What is it like to start a race at 12 midnight? - How far could I have gone in the GT? - Would my water freeze using my hydration choices? - Could I have consumed 250 calories per hour as planned? - How scary and beautiful were the high mountain ridges on the course? - Would my partner and I have the energy to talk about meaningful subjects? - Would my thighs retain enough strength to take me down the hills with respectable technique?  - Would I have become a much better mountain skier after navigating Star Pass in the dark.   - Would blisters have formed even though I taped my toes? – If at the back of the pack, would my caffeine loving partner stop at the hot coffee aid station? (She says, YES!)

The burning question: Would I have finished? Honestly?  I think completing the GT would have been nearly impossible within the time limit. Age, altitude, lack of mountaineering and downhill skiing experience most likely would have squashed my solid endurance and willingness to suffer.

To sum:

I expanded my knowledge of skiing beyond that of Nordic.  I also gained a healthy respect of back country skiing… in REAL backcountry.  Yes, I have completed marathon ski races in driving wind, snow, cold … and mush (!) in the US, Austria, Switzerland, Sweden, Finland, and Greenland. I suffered through Kona Hawaii Ironman triathlons, paddled on outriggers through ocean churn, and swam / ran my way across cold water, strong tides and islands of Maine’s Casco Bay and Stockholm’s archipelago. I have speedskated, snowshoed and skied in a crazy race at Beaver Creek, Colorado, completed ½ Ironmans in the hills of Marbella, Spain and Tangier, Africa but nothing provided the experience I needed to smoothly, safely and speedily navigate my way from Crested Butte to Aspen.

So, I continue to be humbled, and to respect my age as repetitive movements become increasingly difficult to absorb on older joints. I will embrace all I have learned during my backcountry ski journey and plan to schedule a hut-to-hut trip touching the GT route so I can ski what I missed.

Most importantly I am reminded that ADVENTURE and CHALLANGE and the OUTDOORS lay within our fingertips. We do not have to travel far to experience and grow from the grit of pushing through our comfort zone. Cold plunges and saunas, 5k’s and ultra marathons, pole hiking under a full moon, bike time trials and ironman all day training rides, Boundary Water paddling or just a nightly walk with your dog, a busy workday followed by a good book on the sofa… all offer a life of exciting or peaceful contrasts.

Sure, I selected a race which demanded travel to learn its unique obstacles and because of its inherent danger, the event was cancelled. I can rebound, educate myself, practice my new skills and find a fresh spirit of adventure right here in the Midwest. As long as I continue to harness my energy towards experiencing life to the fullest and  play within the emotions of love and gratitude, I rest more easily at night.