Kicking (and Gliding) at The Home Ranch

Or how I  learned to channel my inner aerobic animal. By Nicholas O’Connell

It looks so easy. When experienced skate skiers glide along with grace and fluidity, it appears almost effortless. And yet when I’ve tried it on cross country skis, I found it exhausting. If I have the right gear and coaching can I ever make it look easy?

This is the question I ponder during a three-day visit to the Home Ranch, an upmarket ranch located in the Elk River Valley, 40 miles from Yampa Valley Regional Airport in northern Colorado. The all-inclusive ranch includes free gear and instruction and 30 kilometers of groomed Nordic trails.

Matson Tew, a tall, lanky, enthusiastic guide, serves as my instructor. He fits me with skate skis which are lighter, shorter and skinnier than traditional cross country skis.

“Try these poles,” he says, handing me poles that come up to my chin, much longer than cross country poles, but well-suited to the long strides and glides of a skate skier. He fits me for boots and then gives me a pep talk.

“It’s one of the most challenging aerobic sports out there,” he says. “And you’re coming from sea level, so don’t be too hard on yourself if it tires you out.”

Encouraged, I try the technique. The 3-kilometer loop outside the Home Ranch is relatively flat and groomed with a wide corduroy swath, making it an ideal place to practice.

“It’s 70 percent lower body, 30 percent upper body,” he says, demonstrating the technique. “Then it’s probably 50/50 on hills.”

I try to imitate his technique. “Look over the glide ski,” he says. “Spend as much time on the glide ski as possible. Keep your feet low. Assume a dynamic stance with a low center of gravity.”

I ski back and forth, trying to keep all of these things in mind. It’s a lot of effort, but I can feel improvement.

“Do the Wizard of Oz drill,” he says. “Click your heels to get more of a glide.”

I do this and it helps. Then he suggests completing the loop. I skate well around the first portion of the track until I hit a hill and struggle to maintain the technique.

“It’s okay to use Granny Gear on the hills,” he says. “You can put the poles behind you and step up if you need to.”

I follow his lead and pole uphill. By the time I finish the course, my heart is pounding, my lungs straining.

“Nice job,” he says. “You’re a natural.”

I can’t help grinning. This is such a great workout that I want to do it again. By the time I complete a second lap, I may not be making it look easy, but I’m hitting my stride and channeling my inner aerobic animal. Afterwards, I head back to the ranch, having earned the right to gorge on the restaurant’s delicious lunch of soup, salad, and skirt steak fajitas. For more:

Nicholas O’Connell is the author of The Storms of Denali and teaches for