CROSS COUNTRY SKIING. LITERALLY. AMAZING STORY ABOUT TO BEGIN.
We recently got an email from a guy named Anders Morely who is about to attempt to ski across the country–this winter. He has a website (see thebigski dot org) and will be blogging on his progress over the next five months. In the communications we've had with him, Anders seems like a modest guy with a big drive to do something really, really cool. He answered a few questions we had by email. We may post on his progress occasionally but if you don't see anything here, be sure to check his site. We are sure it will be one heck of an adventure. Best of luck Anders! Scroll below for the interview.
1) Where did the idea to ski across Canada come from?
Well, let me try to answer that question as clearly and concisely as I can. For as long as I can remember I have wanted to take a long self-propelled journey. When I was eleven or twelve, some friends of mine moved to Wisconsin, and my brothers and I decided we would build a raft and sail up the Saint Lawrence and across the lakes to visit them. I collected maps because I wanted ‘to be an explorer when I grow up’, so I carefully planned our route. Our mother dutifully took us to our local river to test our rafts, which promptly sank. Later, one of the first books I read without being forced to was Peter Jenkins’ A Walk Across America. Meanwhile, I had been skiing all along. We grew up in the woods, and my mom had this pair of green wooden skis from Finland that she’d almost never used, so I soon took to exploring the woods on those. My best friend lived three or four miles away by car or bike, but by skiing about half that distance straight through the woods out of my backyard I could get to his backyard without ever crossing a road or seeing another house. Our local mini-wilderness! Sometimes he’d set out on his skis and we’d meet in the middle. Anyway, about four years ago, I guess, I first had the idea of doing my ‘walkabout’ in the wintertime – a skiabout! But the immediate catalyst, which got me to start planning concretely at the end of the summer of 2011, was an article I read about Andrew Skurka’s huge ski-raft-hiking loop of Alaska and the Yukon. As I read the article in National Geographic I realized, ‘This guy’s my age. It’s now or never.’
Finally, why Canada? I grew up in New Hampshire but also have lifelong ties to eastern Ontario. I am both Canadian and American by citizenship, so I consider North America (or better, Turtle Island!) my home. For the last few years I’ve lived mostly in Italy (my wife’s Italian), and so this trip has also taken on meaning as an expression of my homesickness. Finally, at the end of the day I’m going to find more consistent snow by staying in Canada.
2) What do you see as your biggest obstacle(s)?
Moisture. Laziness. Unfrozen streams.
3) What percentage of the trip do you think will actually be skiing (rather than walking)?
I can imagine myself walking for a day or two at the beginning. I’m starting from Prince Rupert, which is notoriously unsnowy. But once I work my way inland a few kilometers, that ought to change pretty quickly. Then in the east I’m becoming more and more used to the idea that I may have to lose the skis, barring the onset of a new ice age or a newfound ability to ski as fast as one of those nordic guys who wear tights! If I don’t beat the melt-off, I figure I’ll do the final leg either walking or paddling. But the real wild card, and I guess what you’re really asking about, is how much walking I’ll be doing between those two points. And I can only speculate. In town I’m sure I’ll have to kick my skis sometimes. If there’s no snow, obviously, ditto. And for when I get thick into the bush and skis become impracticable I’m bringing along my snowshoes too.
4) Where will you sleep?
I’m sleeping in a Hilleberg Nammatj 2 GT with an extended vestibule. It’s a double-walled tent with tons of room for my gear and for whiling away those long winter nights in the bush. And it’s tough as nails. My bag is a Stephenson’s Warmlite triple bag with a vapor barrier. It’s an engineeering masterpiece, and it’s made not far from where I grew up, which is somehow satisfying to know. Also, I’m bringing a snow saw, and I may hunker down in an igloo from time to time – say if there’s a storm coming through and I don’t see myself moving for a few days. But we’ll see if I have the energy for that! Then, of course, if someone invites me to spend a night, I’m certainly not going to turn them down!
5) Will you be carrying a backpack, pulling a sled or what?
Yes, I’ll be carrying a backpack and pulling a lightweight Paris pulk made by Ed Bouffard in Minnesota. If I need to, I can strap the pulk to my pack.
6) Will there be any opportunities for you to ski downhill for any sustained period or will you be seeking out the flats?
Sadly, I don’t think there will be in any meaningful sense. Though I am a pretty avid telemarker, I wanted to cut out as many risk variables as possible to better my chances of success on this trip. So I’ll be staying low, far from slopes that might slide or anything like that. I’m crossing the Rockies up north, near Williston Lake. There is a chance that, rather than skiing along the lake itself, I might go through Pine Pass. Then who knows? Maybe I won’t be able to resist a few turns at Powder King!
7) How long do you think this will take?
Do you want my answer or my wife’s? I think it will take about five months or a little more. But I also think that’s pretty ambitious.
Why stop in Quebec?
In my initial enthusiasm I thought open ocean to open ocean was the only real continental crossing – Gaspé or bust! But to propose to ski that distance in one winter is, to my way of thinking, impossible. As it is, I’ve got well over 5,000 km in front of me. So I got to reasoning. Quebec was the first city to be founded in eastern North America, and it was the setting off point for subsequent exploration of New France. So in that sense it is historically and culturally the ‘beginning’ of the continent. It’s also the place where the St. Lawrence becomes an estuary of the Atlantic, the westernmost reach of the tides. So in a geographical sense, too, it can somehow be considered a starting (or in this case, ending) point. I know that cross-Canada canoeists start in Montreal, but they have their own historical reasons. Long-distance skiers don’t have any historical precedents to go by on this continent, so I get to make the rules. I hope it becomes a Canadian tradition, just like paddling.
9) Who are your sponsors?
Hilleberg the Tentmaker; Åsnes, Norwegian manufacturer of great expedition skis; Mountain Equipment Co-op; Belly Timber Survival Bars; Cleanwaste (wagbags for doing the business when I’m close to town); Skipulk.com; Optimus; Crispi (boots); Mountain House contributed some freeze-dried meals; Raw Revolution energy bars.
10) How can people hear of your progress?