Scott in the Middle East

After a little "virtual arm-twisting" I managed to squeeze this great post from my good friend Scott Longwell.  Below he updates us on some changes in his life since graduation:

Hi All,

I’m another recent Bowdoin grad, originally from outside of Rochester, New York. I actually started my athletic career as a center with the local pee-wee football team, but upon termination of my six-year contract I opted to make the logical jump to endurance sports. Fortunately, I fared better than most Phlail competitors do in transitioning from lineman to aerobic athlete (an outcome I generally attribute to the fertile Nordic skiing culture of upstate NY), and found that my 125 pound frame was, in fact, better suited for the latter pursuit. Strangely enough, while on the XC and Nordic teams in high school and at Bowdoin I managed to put on a modest amount of weight—thus, I’m forced to conclude that intense aerobic exercise eventually leads to obesity. In other news:

As many of the other new Nordic alums know, my immediate post-graduation plans were to continue researching in a biochem lab at Bowdoin before I eventually applied to med school. However, while working on campus this past summer I began to have second thoughts. Shortly after turning in my honors thesis, the project I’d been working on seemed less interesting (oddly enough), and I had a difficult time envisioning myself toiling away on it for much longer. Meanwhile, most of my former teammates were once again off to admittedly more exciting endeavors: Dan moved to just outside of Boston; Chis moved to just outside of Russia; Maren decided the skiing competition was too amateur in the Northern Hemisphere; Spencer went to hunt deer in Tahoe; Erin left to teach abroad in some former Greek city-state (or, at least, one of several cities in upstate New York that bears an identical name); and Wilson was very likely doing something more awesome and outdoorsy than me, in any case.  I hadn’t even gone abroad during my time at Bowdoin, so before I became lost in the looming abyss of med school for the next decade, I decided to get away from Bowdoin and the States. The off-campus study office helped me find a program where I could research computational chemistry at an American-affiliated university in Jordan, and two weeks ago I found myself boarding a plane (or rather, several) to the Middle East.

Although I haven’t been here long, my experience has been extremely novel in some ways, yet oddly familiar in others. As was Chris’ experience in Egypt, the drivers and traffic are horrible, or what Nathan would eloquently refer to as “an enormous pile of suck.” There are clearly many people who should not be behind the wheel, and navigating the mess of cars, convoluted traffic patterns, and pedestrians downtown can often be deceptively frustrating for a city so small. While I’m walking places, people frequently shout from passing cars (in a tongue I have no realistic way of understanding), leaving me to respond only with a startled, confused gaze. Though relatively peaceful, there are still wisps of underlying turmoil. The wail of military jets overhead has become a familiar sound in the past week, and the local school, closed down for months, just recently reopened its doors only to be drowned in a mass of humanity, carrying with them all of their belongings and seeking a place to stay. I can only imagine that these disheveled people are refugees.

Culturally, there is significant tension between old and new. On one hand, the values here are very traditional—people typically go to bed at around 9 o’clock (think Walt Shepard), are religious, and seem to be content with a low-key lifestyle. On the other hand, despite the strong presence of local authorities, drug use is widespread amongst the younger, more “progressive” populace, many of whom are originally from other regions. In order to escape the scornful eye of their elders, the youth often pack themselves into decrepit, run-down buildings and rage to a mixture of stale 80’s hits and club music well into the morning:

  

The astute grade-level reader has ascertained by now a while ago that I’m still at Bowdoin, and yes, the above passages betray my poor working knowledge of Jordan, which is why I am indeed still studying an ulcer-causing bacteria and not Middle Eastern culture (or worse, computational chemistry). I actually love the research I’ve been doing at Bowdoin, and I’m looking forward to being on campus for another year. Things have been very quiet until this week, which brought an influx of freshman embarking on their now-mandatory Pre-O trips, as well as the Great State of Maine Air Show Sponsored by Bill Dodge, featuring the Air Force Thunderbirds (apparently, no Blue Angels this year). It’s been strange seeing kids just starting their college career—they seem so young, and it makes me wonder where I’ll fit in with a new role on a familiar campus. Although I’m negligibly older and still know plenty of current students, there’s something about graduating that makes me feel as though I’ve passed into a parallel universe.

So what have I actually been up to this summer? After being coddled for years by Bowdoin Dining, I’ve slowly started to expand my underdeveloped repertoire of recipes (Hershey’s chocolate cake; chili). Returning to my football roots, I’ve taken a temporary hiatus from the roads and begun lifting almost exclusively. Still, a few weeks ago I hiked Katahdin with a few friends, including fellow nordie Erin Hatton—I’ll save that story for her telling in the likely case that she’s asked to write a post in the near future. More recently, I moved into my first off-campus apartment, and while it can’t compare to the now-infamous Blue Vic, I’m open to any suggestions for names that incorporate its lovely, lead-based yellow color. My new neighbors include a prominent couple from the influential Mephitidae family (genus: Mephitis), while the ones across the street really like snakes—so much so, that they proudly display a huge yellow flag bearing their beloved reptile. Apparently, I’ll have to be careful where I tread on the way to work. Lolz.

In any case, I’ll be here at Bowdoin, holding down fort for the rest of the alums. Come ski season, I’ll be joining the team for the occasional (skate) training ski, helping Nathan with some waxing on circuit, and possibly hopping in some Eastern Cup (skate) races.  Please let me know if you’re visiting campus and want a place to crash—I have an air mattress that rivals even the shoddiest of motel cots, so I can offer you quite the nostalgic experience. Dinner will be chili in paper bowls, served in the parking lot next to my apartment. I’ll work on Larry letting me borrow a van.

-Slongwell, ‘12

PS: To the first alum who guesses my number, I offer half a pan of my favorite desert. Sorry, no deliveries, let alone empty guarantees that I won’t finish both halves.

Coaching and Panic Intervals

Now that things are rolling a little bit with this blog, I figured I would contribute a post about myself and my new life as an Alaskan ski coach:

Hey Everyone,

As you may or may not know, shortly after graduation I took up a job as a part-time ski coach in Fairbanks, Alaska with FXC.  After cruising around the East Coast on all the old ski van routes shooting a video for Maine Winter Sports Center, I hopped on a plane to Minnesota, bought a car, packed all my earthly possessions into it and drove the three and a half thousand odd miles from Minneapolis to interior Alaska.  I have to say, there's not a whole lot going on in Canada, at least not between the Twin Cities and Edmonton.

Once in Fairbanks, I started coaching right from the start.  Pete Leonard, the head coach, keeps a blog of FXC's adventures here.  It's a pretty awesome gig.  We have a lot of athletes, ranging from Juniors in college all the way down to kids in Elementary school.  They're organized into all different levels, Prep, Comp, Devo, Jr. Devo, but it really just boils down to two different groups and they do a portion of their workouts with one group or another.  I like working with all the athletes, but with the younger ones I have an especially fun time.  I'm outside all day and I usually manage to put a workout in, more often with the younger group than the older group.  With the older athletes I'm usually timing or video taping for technique work.  With the younger skiers I end up putting in a surprisingly good session.  We do all sorts of activities, everything from mountain biking and orienteering to ultimate and speed frolf (frisbee golf), so I'm always busy, in one way or another.

But, let me give you an example of the type of exercise I put in as a coach.  One of my favorite workouts is what I like to call "Panic Intervals." Last Thursday was a perfect example of a good, solid panic interval session.  We were mountain biking to an ice-cream shop, Hot Licks, for an end of summer celebration.  I decided to save on gas (really freaking expensive in Alaska) and just ride to practice.  As many of you will undoubtedly have memories of from college, I was running late.  It turns out that walking across the museum steps, diploma in hand, does not in fact magically make you a fully functioning adult, despite the Harry Potter-esque robes they make you wear or the Latin incantations President Mills recites.  So, much like pre-graduation Chris, I had put off some essential bike repairs until the last minute.  I hit the road fifteen minutes late on a route that usually takes me forty.  However, deciding to put in some good Level Panic work (somewhere between Level 3 and cardiac arrest), I managed to do the route in just thirty, rolling in only five minutes late.

The Class of 2012 in HP regalia

Soon after I arrived, we corralled everyone and had them moving in the same direction, no mean feat, and I started a nice rest period, playing sweep while we biked out to a field and did some drills.  Soon, we divided up into groups with me leading the six most confident riders.  It turned out that not only were the six of them, one of whom I nicknamed Danger earlier on in the summer, more confident on their bikes than the other athletes, but they were also more confident than their assistant coach (me).  My theory is that, unlike myself, they all started mountain biking before they developed a healthy sense of self-preservation, making them much better riders.  Regardless, before too long they spend off down a hill in front of me and at a quick intersection I went left, only to realize at the bottom that they had instead taken a right.  It was time for panic interval number two.

Now, I should preface, that even though I was going at Level Panic pace for what seemed like an eternity, at no point was I actually worried.  After having my little brother wanderer off on every family vacation for the first twelve years of his life, having a missing kid just doesn't phase me that much anymore.  On top of that I knew that these guys were the oldest in the group, they knew what they were doing on their bikes, and I trusted them not to do anything dangerously stupid, especially if they stuck together.  Regardless, I wanted to find, them, bad, because being coach does come with responsibility after all.  So, I tore all over the maze of trails owned by the University, shouting their names and taking both uphills and downhills way faster than I ever had before.  I worked my heart rate up pretty high, but all for nothing.  I neither found them nor heard a response to my yelling.  After about thirty minutes, Pete put my interval to an end, calling me and letting me know that my group had shown up at Hot Licks without me.  Everyone was just fine.  While they happily enjoyed their well earned ice-cream, I cooled down by pedaling my bike to the meeting point for our next practice.

Total Coach's workout time: 3 hours, 2x30min LP intervals.

All Best,
-Chris

Photo credits: http://www.urbanspoon.com/rph/137/911247/586091/fairbanks-hot-licks-hot-licks-photo Accessed 8/17/2012

Nick Crawford '09

Nick Crawford was Captain of the ski team my Freshman year of college.  He was a great inspiration to me.   I'm working his old job in Fairbanks, AK now, and his old athletes, now my athletes, still talk about how much they liked him:

Hi All,

I had meant to type up this post a month ago but it had gotten away from me, so here it is now.  It’s really not that interesting compared to Spencer killing a deer on his rollerskis or anything Marren is doing right now in New Zealand, but I’m grateful for Bowdoin Nordic for connecting me to these awesome people who actually do neat things.  Also big thanks to Chris Sanville for putting together this site.

Mid Summer 2012

I walked out the door with my bright orange boots (Rossignol), neon green shirt (Brooks reflective shirt), neon green rollerskis (Marwe) and neon green poles (One Way).  If this alone didn’t make me look like a complete idiot, it was confirmed by the fact that I was going for a ski in the middle of the summer in the middle of the desert at about 97 degrees.  This might be more justifiable if I was training to make the national team after graduating as an All American skier from a prestigious D1 college program, but I’m not.  I’m a 25 year old Bowdoin College ski team alum who, if I’m lucky, will compete in one or two citizen races next winter.  I don’t even qualify as a master blaster because I’m not obsessive over my own athletic results and unlike most master blasters, I frequently train at a pace other than threshold.

The only reason why I go rollerskiing is because I love the sport of cross country skiing and as a professional coach I try and share that passion with junior skiers.  A big part of my love for the sport comes from my time on the Bowdoin Nordic Team.  I don’t think I would still be involved in the sport were it not for the great time I had on the team.  Whether it was riding in the van to Pineland or Thanksgiving dinner in Quebec or even pounding out intervals on the Brunswick bike path for the seventh time in a month I really enjoyed the company and environment of the team.  I also learned a ton during my time on the Bowdoin Nordic team and unlike my geology degree, I’m putting that knowledge to work every day.  I would like to give a quick thank you to the two head coaches and four assistant coaches I had while at Bowdoin: Marty Hall, Nathan Alsobrook, Adam St Piere, Oliver Burress, Wyatt Dumas and Ezra Hart for their countless hours of assistance and toil with little in the way of fame and glory from me for their efforts. 

Another reason why I love Nordic skiing and continue to work for minimal pay as a coach is that it has allowed me to travel to some really neat places.  Some of the places like the Hardwick motel outside of Crafstburry, VT or the Linnell Motel in Rumford, I traveled to while actually with the team I would not add to your bucket list, but others have been much more interesting.  Skiing brought me to the future site of Bowdoin’s Elite Summer Training Location, the Snow Farm in New Zealand, the homeland of Matt Bowers and Elissa Rodman in Colorado, located at about 40,000 feet above sea level, and even to the quite pleasant urban ski trails at Theodore Wirth Park in Minneapolis.  In pursuit of coaching I also moved to Fairbanks, AK and coached both juniors and caribou while trying to stay warm at 40 degrees below zero.

And now I had settled in the ultimate Nordic skiing destination: Boise, ID.  If you ever find yourself racing at Bogus Basin (the local ski area), you’re probably not at the right venue but let me know you’re in town anyhow.  More likely you will be driving by on I-84 and looking for a place to crash for the night but I’ve got you covered there as well.

See you on the trails!

Nick Crawford ‘09

Greetings from Wanaka!

After graduation Maren Askins (Class of 2012) became a ski instructor at the Snow Farm, a cross-country ski area in New Zealand that seems to be quickly turning into a hub for Bowdoin skiers.  Here's what she has to report from the far side of the world:

Greetings from Wanaka, New Zealand! Everyone’s spirits are high today because the sky is dumping snow on the mountaintops. Winter so far has been looking much like it did in the States last season. This is the first storm we’ve had since June, which yielded 20cm of snow and had been melting in the spring-skiing-esque conditions we’ve had up until today. Despite the lack of snow, southern hemisphere winter has been fantastic thus far. I arrived in Wanaka in the middle of June, and I’ve been working as a ski instructor at Snow Farm, the only nordic ski center in the country. Although my primary job here is ski instructing, my duties have included of a little bit of everything to keep a small ski area running: waxing skis, mounting bindings, de-mounting bindings, vacuuming, shoveling, washing tables, mingling with customers, etc. In the teaching realm of things, I mostly work with the kids. I’ve been supervising the “midi merino” program, which is for 6 to 10 year olds. We play games and ski around all day on Saturdays. This past Saturday, we played in igloos all afternoon that a Polar Medical group had made to camp in.

Yes, I get paid to do these things.

Snow Farm

My coworkers are pretty awesome, too. There is the German, Ronny, who I call Ronny the Bear, coming straight from life in the Blue Vic (the off campus house me, Spencer, Wilson and Chris, among others, lived in the last two years). There is Luca, the Italian biathlete. Naturally, since the biathlon world is even smaller than the nordic world, the first thing I asked him was if he knew Walt Shepard. And equally naturally, he said yes. He’s also been to Presque Isle. Small world, hey? Then there is Jonah, who is from Colby. Again, small world? There’s a pair of old Canadians and a handful of super cool kiwis that I work with as well. Last but not least is the famous (or infamous?) Alexei. Like most old Russian men in my life, he’s gradually becoming my best friend and mentor. I had a Russian conductor growing up, who took me under his wing and advised me in useful ways, saying things like, “you must go into medicine. That’s where all the money is.” Alexei, too, told me to become a doctor. He’s also been having me test Salomon prototype skis, telling me crazy stories about crazy awesome skiers, teaching me things like how to mount bindings and how to be a better instructor. In general, it’s been pretty awesome getting to know these people from all over the world—both from working with them and teaching them how to ski.

Basically, life out here is "sweet as." I get to ski everyday, whether it’s nordic at work or alpine on my days off. I’ve gotten into the bread making trade because it’s cheap (fyi, food in New Zealand is wicked expensive). People say that as you get older, you become more and more like you mother or your father, or both. Well, it appears that as I’m getting older, I’m becoming more and more like Spencer and Wilson. I’ve also been climbing a lot at the local gym, under the tutelage of my little brother and Steezey Ben. Speaking of steezers, Wanaka is steeze capital. Everywhere I look there are tall tees, giant hats, and bright colored snowpants—in the
grocery store, at the bar, even on the nordic trails! The steezey alpine workers make fun of me for skiing up hills all the time, justifiably questioning my steeze factor, but we’ll see who’s crying when we have a Cardrona vs. Treble Cone nordic race at Snow Farm (those are the two local alpine resorts). In the race category, my nordic steeze is far from bust. We have a little races every Saturday, with distance and technique decided approximately an hour before the races start. This means that my pre-race warm up has consisted of shoveling, running up to the staff room to change my boots, then running to the start line. The Snow Farm regulars usually compete, which includes all the instructors, the development team kids, their masterblaster parents, other masterblasters, and New Zealand national team member Andy Pohl. I cleaned up the women’s side in the first 5k skate race, not too far behind my male counterparts. Last weekend, we had skate sprint heats. I was pitted against Colby’s Jonah Belk and 3 other male masterblasters, and I’m proud to say that I lead the heat for the first half of the course. Not wanting to get girled, Jonah maneuvered around me heading up the last hill heading towards the finish, and I settled for second (he was on his race skis, mind you, and I was on rentals).

Needless to say, the New Zealand chapter of the Bowdoin ski team gave the NZ Colby team a bit of a shake down, and next Saturday could be an upset, now that my carbonlites are waxed up. In all seriousness though, it’s nice to know I still have a bit of a racing edge despite the few months in my life where I replaced working out with working on my honors project. It’s also nice to know that racing is still fun, even as a (gulp) masterblaster.

Well, tomorrow brings lots of new snow and lots of new adventures. I’ll try to keep Chris posted as often as my energy allows, not without his virtual arm-twisting, though. My parents are arriving in this beautiful country next Monday, which will bring lots of non-ski related journeys. Also arriving next week are several national teams, including but not limited to the Russians, the Italians, and the Koreans. They are gearing up for FIS races occurring here, another event that Alexei has been heckling me to participate in. Only time will tell what races are in this ex-Bowdoin-skier’s future.