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Paradigms on the prowl - new Nordic champions light the way

"[My dad] just told me to have fun, and remember with skiing, why I do that-that I do it for fun. For sure, I want to win, but if you don't have fun, you are never going to win." New Nordic World Champion, Alex Harvey They're the New Crazy Canucks.
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"[My dad] just told me to have fun, and remember with skiing, why I do that-that I do it for fun. For sure, I want to win, but if you don't have fun, you are never going to win."

New Nordic World Champion, Alex Harvey

They're the New Crazy Canucks. Bold and playful - almost brash with their joie-de-vivre. Easy to be around too. But committed. Tough. Professional. And they don't bow down to anyone. Not the Russians. Not the Swedes. Not even the Norwegians...

They're the high-stepping members of Canada's national Nordic Team. And they've been on a serious roll of late. Consider what Devon Kershaw and Alex Harvey accomplished last week at the World Championships in Oslo.

It was almost like watching Read and Pod and Co. kicking butt in Kitzbuhel 30 years ago. The parallels are spooky. There they were, in Norway's Holmenkollen Stadium - like Austria's Streif piste, a shrine to high-performance skiing - playing air-guitar for the crowd after a shocking come-from-behind sprint at the most hotly contested event at the World Champs. And they did it in the most magnificent way possible...

Back in Canada, the superlatives started flying around like golf balls at a driving range. "Canadians Shock The World"; "Stunning Victory at World Champs"; "Canuck Duo Surprises With Historic Gold." From The Globe & Mail to the Vancouver Sun , from CBC to CTV, everyone was scrambling to get on the boys' bandwagon.

For those who'd been paying attention though, the victory wasn't so much a shock as a vindication. This is what I wrote last March at the end of the Olympic party: "While most of the country was salivating at the thought of the upcoming gold-medal hockey game last Sunday, some of us were watching Devon Kershaw and his under-funded teammates challenge the world's best in the world's toughest ski test.'"

And then I went on to describe the valiant battle the Canuck upstarts had waged against the heavily favoured Euros. "Arguably the most brutal and demanding event on the Winter Games schedule, the 50k classic is considered the new plus ultra of the Nordic world. So what the heck was Kershaw thinking? There he was, with only a dozen kilometres to go, still stalking the leaders. And he wasn't alone. Rossland's George Grey was just a few skiers back and charging..."

It was probably the biggest story that wasn't covered at last year's Games. "It was so close," I wrote. "Kershaw didn't let up. He fought until the very end. Gave it all he had - and then some. It was an incredibly heroic performance. After two hours of slogging across hill and dale in 99 per cent humidity, he crossed the finish line [in fifth] less than TWO SECONDS behind the winner. Still, Kershaw was devastated. "To be that close to gold," he said choking back tears, "it's a very bitter pill to swallow..."

Bitter indeed. But I betcha that taste has all but evaporated now. Especially given the way he and Harvey won their gold in Oslo. "I had a small heart attack," admitted Kershaw at a post-race press conference last Wednesday. "I don't know how my ski came off. It was a one in a million chance -somebody's ski must have come under my binding, and flipped it up, and my ski fell off and started going the opposite direction."

That was on the first lap of the race. Can you picture his panic at that point? The extra adrenalin that leaked out of Kershaw while he chased his ski down and clicked in to his binding again? The extra push it took to reel in the leaders? And what about Harvey's final kick? That near-manic two-poled attack he used to reel in the Norwegian? His exultation as he pushed his foot across the line and instantly shushed the partisan crowd? Oh man! I get excited every time I think about it.

That the two young Canucks managed to keep their cool under such pressure is yet another tribute to their preparation, self-confidence and maturity. It's also a tribute to the ski-communities that nurtured them. Two tough, no-nonsense guys from either end of the country. Two kids totally immersed in the culture of under-funded, under-celebrated self-propelled sports. You couldn't come up with a better feel-good story if you tried. As I said - they're the New Crazy Canucks. Which begs the question:

Could it also be the dawning of a new age of self-propelled snowplay in Canada?

I'm serious. Canada is a Nordic skier's white-dream-come-true. Whether the snow-dumped shores of Newfoundland or the snow-pasted ridges of Vancouver Island - the snow-carpeted hills of Quebec and Ontario or the snow-whipped plains of the Prairies - this country was virtually built for skinny skiing.

But somehow it just never got there. With the exception of a few distinct communities like Alberta's Canmore (where Kershaw lives and trains) or Quebec's Mont Ste Anne (where Harvey grew up and still trains), cross-country skiing across Canada has never been more than a fringe activity practiced by the very keenest of outdoor enthusiasts - or the most casual. But nothing really in between. Strange, eh? I don't get it...

At a time when its downhill cousin is struggling to make itself relevant for a 21st century audience, the appeal of Nordic skiing seems obvious. It's cheaper, healthier, environmentally friendlier and much, much more accessible to Joe and Jolene Canadian. The gear is better than it ever was. The range of activity - from high-tempo skating to easy-going walking - is amazingly inclusive. And finally: you don't have to fly across the country to get your Nordic rocks off.

In other words, there's absolutely no down side. Au contraire. There are few winter activities that provide such a self-satisfied glow of pleasure as a good, hard session of skinny skiing. And it's so adaptable!

You can have as much fun ski-skating across Quebec's Plains of Abraham or around Montreal's Mount Royal as you can attacking the hefty hills of Canmore's Olympic Park. Ski-striding along Calgary's Bow River can spark as much pleasure as sliding on Silver Star's pro-groomed trails. It's so simple. Go outside and have fun.

Which brings me back to Whistler. While we may yet discover other significant Olympic legacies hiding in the wings, the Callaghan Valley Nordic Centre (Whistler Olympic Park) has already instilled a sense of sporting renouveau in the community (and locals are just beginning to discover its riches). Moreover, I believe the evolution of self-propelled snowplay in the Callaghan can provide a whole new tourism paradigm to exploit in Sea-to-Sky country.

Remember my Montreal journalist friend Simon Drouin? Remember his comments about his 60-year-old skinny-skiing mum and how she would come to Whistler in a minute if she knew there was a simple little auberge to stay at in the Callaghan?

Or what about former Pemberton teacher Delores Los and the kick-ass learn-to-Nordic-ski program she helped launch this winter for school kids living in the corridor? I can already see a new wave of talented cross-country warriors emerging from the woods...

The world is changing fast. The boomers are aging. Gen Xers are making babies. The Millennials are becoming adults. And lift-served downhill skiing just doesn't have the sex appeal it once did. People are looking for the best value for dollar spent. They want to do things with family members. Have fun. Enjoy life. Forget the stress of their urban surroundings. So where does that leave Whistler?

With a bunch of big-name hotels, a few good restaurants, an aging on-mountain infrastructure, a fading reputation as a hip ski town - and the Callaghan Valley (and Garibaldi Park and all our other natural 'assets'). Get where I'm going with this?

I know. I know. The powers-that-be want to turn this place into Festival Town U.S... er, Canada. They want to ensure that the beds are slept in and the restaurants seats are being sat upon. They want the village to continue be the focal point of all things commercial - so that everyone can be successful and rich. Which is a good thing (if a bit mis-directed).

But what about sustaining our culture? What about celebrating the magic, vibrant, distinct outdoor-focused way of life that's evolved here over the last 45 years? Rather than trying to be all things to all people, why not articulate a storyline for Whistler that embraces the enthralling physicality of our mountain environment instead? I mean - isn't that why we all came here?

Personally, I would rather see passionate outdoor-focused people vacationing in Whistler - folks who deeply appreciate the wealth of our natural surroundings - than simply having visitors come because we have lots of cheap hotel rooms and a Google-friendly central booking agency. I think we need to look even harder at the Callaghan Valley (and Nordic and backcountry skiing and biking and hiking and climbing and other outdoorsy pursuits) and really explore what championing these activities could add to the 'overall' Whistler experience/story. In the meantime, I'll just keep cheering on da boys of winter...