Wholistic Fitness

click on pics to enlarge. all photos and text by steve ilg taken 3*6*09.

“The importance of sweating in the natural world should never be
lost to the sincere warrior. The world is in search of peace and love
and happiness. Yet, within each individual an immense store of energy
and sacredness is concealed. Through exercise as ritual in the outdoors,
that inner power is activated and thus sparks the descent of the divine
into mundane life.”

– steve ilg, A Nordic Maniac’s Salute To The Dying Snow,
DL 3*6*09

There is nothing like crust skiing…using skate skis, i can soar like Brother Raven at speeds of 25 mph across the snow, covering vast amounts of terrain in the flicker of an instant. Like Cinderella, however, once the sun heats up the topmost “crust layer”, instead of soaring, the skier sinks. One learns to get up early and don’t be greedy with the time allowed to soar. Trust me, i’ve had to post-hole many kilometers in my youth before respecting this Golden Rule of crust skiing.

i’d like to share with you my final backyard Crust Skiing yesterday morning…perhaps you’ll join me in this salute to the Sacred Snows the world over…

The importance of sweating in the natural world should never be
lost to the sincere warrior. The world is in search of peace and love
and happiness. Yet, within each individual an immense store of energy
and sacredness is concealed. Through exercise as ritual in the outdoors,
that inner power is activated and thus sparks the descent of the divine
into mundane life.

These thoughts released through me during my Celebration of
the Crust this morning. The very last of the snows behind the WF Temple
H(om)e have receded into Mother save for a patchwork of melting snowfields
and jittery patches of recalcitrant ice.

Thoughout our precious lives, obsessions are born and either die or are transmogrified. Passions we thought were dead limbs inside us, suddenly re-gather and ignite, scorching our soul with new mystique.

As a child in Durango, Colorado, i cried over the melting of snow. i recall dreading the snowmelt months of March and April. While most cheered the slow death of winter’s ionic delta of snowflakes, i saw and felt only the snows wheezing in the growing sun and felt their inevitably ragged and dirty death deep in my cells. The plainly seen death of snow is perhaps what makes snow so precious. is that some of us can’t help but see our own mortality within the dying snows?

Yesterday morning i had a bittersweet celebration of the winter wonderland that is my backyard. i took my final ‘crust ski’ across the open prairies of my home beneath the Sacred Peak. though i deeply pity anyone who has not experienced even one session of crust skiing, i’ll explain it now; crust skiing occurs as the snows begins to melt and undergoes chronic freeze/thaw cycles. in the Rocky Mountains of the American Southwest, crust skiing is world class, because, for instance here at my 7,500′ home near Flagstaff, these March days can see overnight lows of 18 degrees and highs near 70! you can imagine what a magical time, albeit brief (only a few weeks, if that), is this time. In one day, i can ice skate on frozen pond in the morning and kayak it in the afternoon. I can skate ski across fields of snow in the morning on the yin slope and shred completely dry mountain bike trails which lay on yang slopes in the afternoon.

There is nothing like crust skiing…using skate skis, i can soar like Brother Raven at speeds of 25 mph across the snow, covering vast amounts of terrain in the flicker of an instant. Like Cinderella, however, once the sun heats up the topmost “crust layer”, instead of soaring, the skier sinks. One learns to get up early and don’t be greedy with the time allowed to soar. Trust me, i’ve had to post-hole many kilometers in my youth before respecting this Golden Rule of crust skiing.

i’d like to share with you my final backyard Crust Skiing yesterday morning…perhaps you’ll join me in this salute to the Sacred Snows the world over…

like a nordic phantom, my shadow dances along a cinder road near my house,
as i dog trot in my skate boots to the trailhead…knowing that i am leaving
nordic ski boot tracks in the red Earth makes me smile…

…the trailhead is located on photo left…just past the wooden fence…

…the marginal conditions – are high even by MY standards!

…however, Vishnu has graced my Love of nordic skiing by providing just enough ribbons of prairie crust for me to get a final fix of the world’s most seductive sport…

…the first mission is to navigate 3 kilometers of patchwork snows. often these
patches of snow are delightfully bridged by these icy strips…you might find it pretty difficult to keep up with Coach on this type of terrain; decisions must be
made instantly and often involve skiing with considerable speed, double pole planting,
and vaulting over rock gardens and dry spots…

…i absolutely LOVE this type of
technical, orienteering type of skate skiing…to me, it reminds my Soul of how the Northern Hemisphere was civilized; ON SKIS! Across Glaciers, through fields like this!

…do NOT try this at home…i’ve spent a lifetime crossing Barbed Wire fences…i swear, when i enter the Bardo, there’s gonna be a Barbed Wire Fence delineating the various Realms! Not surprisingly, my spiritual Seer saw only “boatloads of Barbed Wire” when she read my lifetime of chronic pain due to my spinal injury.

How DO you wax for Ponderosa Pine needles? only ilg knows!

ahhh! arriving at the “Rudd Tank Meadow.” Not a lot of snow, eh? Well, all winter, this has been my private Nordic Area. When the snow was deep, this entire meadow glistened like a sea of jewels for me and my training. Snowmobile paths enabled me to put in hours and hours of classic skiing in this meadow. It pleases me that i defended the State Nordic Championship by practicing out here, mostly classic skiing and all alone with only Coyote and Raven as my training partners. i used Grandfather Sun as my ‘video playback’ device to study my form. look closely along edge of the meadow…see that lingering pathway of snow? well, that, my friends along the Path, was my slice of nordic heaven…

…here is what it looks like up close…

…and on the western termination of the meadow, i found this most enchanting meltwater lake, seemingly meant only for my eyes and soul…

we’ll never know how Sacred our Sweat can be until we measure it against the humble power of nature…

…if ilg could ask the Divine Source to grant my feeble self one Gift in this lifetime? it might just be to arrive at my Bardo Entry m(om)ent with that same glimmer of Light in my eye, that same Soul-shaking hunger for Enlightenment that is to me, characterized each spring in the melting of my lifelong friend; The Sacred Snows.

Keep trying new things, Oh Noble Seeker of Wholeness.
Keep your sense of Humor as strong as your muscles,
and steadfastly refuse to harden the shell of the ego,
even at the risk of falling flat on your face
in front of others,
holding the hands of your family.
Our Soul would rather die in authentic quest of Self Realization
than to follow the well-trodden path of entertainment.
Be curious about all the wonderful and terrifying adventures
possible on this plane(t)…
for
all of us,
must soon Take Leave…

only to Begin Again,
and Again
and endlessly Again…

until
Enlightenment.

head bowed, spirit grounded,

your coach along the Sacred Path of Sweat and Spirit