At the Maine Outdoor Economy Summit last week, trends across the state’s outdoor sector were highlighted and analyzed. During one discussion, a question was posed about which sports or activities are growing in popularity. One answer was cross-country skiing.
That answer prompted me to smile, thinking back on my own journey discovering the sport.
Winter has always been a season I really enjoyed, one that grows more appealing each year. Cabin fever is rare. There is comfort in being inside with warm soup and equal joy in being outside with cold air on my face. I’m more likely to be mourning winter when mud season finally rolls around.
A few years ago, curiosity set in about how to better experience winter outdoors. The goal was simple: get outside, move slowly and be present. I tried alpine skiing a handful of times, but it wasn’t for me. The lack of control and constant fear of ending up in the trees overshadowed any enjoyment.
Cross-country skiing, however, felt different from the start, even if it was unfamiliar. It took a few Google searches to learn that cross-country skiing and Nordic skiing are often used interchangeably. Once the basics were understood, the next challenge was figuring out how to begin.
Breaking into a new sport is rarely easy. Equipment and instruction is often required, and having people to do it with can make all the difference. Beyond that, there is the internal struggle: being brave enough to try something new and humble enough to accept being bad at it for a while.
To make that first step easier, a willing accomplice was recruited: my mom who could not say no to ski rentals and a class at Pineland Farms. An hour-long lesson provided the basics and a sense of direction.
Despite having more skiing experience, she spent most of the class slipping and sliding and later swore she would never try it again. A fair response to a new winter sport. Somehow, things clicked anyway. I’m not sure if my Swedish heritage took over or what, but gliding felt natural and unexpectedly joyful.
Over the next few seasons, cross-country skiing became an occasional pursuit. Gear was rented or borrowed through community programs. In western Maine, both Oxbow Beer Garden and Roberts Farm Preserve made it accessible. Friends, coworkers and my partner were easy to recruit. Anytime it came up as an option, it was a yes.
The learning curve was humbling. There were falls, twisted ankles and hard landings on knees. Most trails were flat, yet progress still came slowly. Learning a new sport requires figuring out how the body moves, when there is more to give and when it’s time to stop. With persistence, improvement followed.
Eventually, it felt worth investing in personal gear, without overspending. Skis, boots, poles and bindings came from Geartrade, discounted from the previous year. A secondhand Columbia ski jacket came from Community Sports in Bethel. The first outing in my gear made it official: cross-country skiing was no longer just something to try, but something I do.
The real test came this past month. A light, sparkling blanket of snow covered much of the state, with many areas receiving more than a foot. Conditions were perfect, but my partner was away snowmobiling in Rangeley. There was no one else to go with. Going meant going alone.
That decision took time — I talked myself up for at least a day. It wasn’t about enjoyment, which was a given, but about confidence. About knowing a fall would be manageable, that one loop would be enough if that was all the energy available and that turning around early was always an option. This was the reason for learning the sport in the first place: to be outside in winter, present and engaged.
At Roberts Farm Preserve, the informational sign at the entrance said it all: conditions as good as it gets. I was ready, prepared and now that I was there, excited.
The skiing was better than it had ever been, maybe better than it ever will be. Gliding came easily. There were no falls. The hardest route was taken, speeding down the steep section of Stephens Trail so fast the cold air brought tears to the eyes and blurred vision. It was perfect. The trail was completed a second time.
There is no sign of losing interest anytime soon. Cross-country skiing has opened the door to seeking out the next challenge. Pushing personal boundaries has a way of doing that.
Next up is Nordic skating. Growing up ice skating helped, even if it was always in figure skates. Comfort on the ice is already there, as is half the necessary gear thanks to cross-country ski boots.
Now all that’s left is finding a few people willing to try it, too.
