LEADVILLE — The reality is that nothing really happens fast in Leadville.
Unless you’re brave enough to strap on a pair of skis, wrap a rope around your hand and attempt to hang on behind a thundering quadruped going by the name Renegade, Streak or Digger, that is. That’s when the time machine is cranked on fast forward, but only in 20-second intervals.
Remember, this is still Leadville.
When the annual skijoring competition comes to life as it did for the 59th time on the town’s main drag this past weekend, it’s just about impossible to imagine being anywhere else. The constraints of societal standards have never had much impact on America’s highest incorporated city, and Leadville’s particular breed of horseshow is hardly an exception.
Where else in the world does a town dedicate time and money to plow the snow back onto main street? With Harrison Avenue closed through the heart of town (don’t worry, you can still walk to the Manhattan), course crews build kickers upward of 8 feet for the horse-drawn skiers to huck themselves off at traffic-light heights between gates while attempting to skewer a series of rings with a hand-held wand. It’s a wild ride, and off the Richter visual entertainment value for the throngs of onlookers lining the streets to take in the local “Survivor” auditions.
But wait, we’re still in Leadville. So first, let’s get to the gambling.
Technically, any alleged gambling that takes place is known as a “Calcutta auction,” and the speed at which the auctioneer rattles off the bids that can stretch into the thousands for teams of horse, rider and skier is the other thing that happens in a rush around here. But once some stakes have been established for those not actually being dragged behind horses, the real rush kicks in for those who are.
“It’s such an adrenaline rush,” said John Carney, a Vail ski patroller who earned back his entry fee as the overall winner of the Sport division. “It’s kind of like the first time you paddle a kayak into a big rapid. But instead of kayakers, they’ve got cowboys.”
It only seems appropriate for Leadville to host this unique melding of distinct Colorado cultures, represented by equal parts ski boots and cowboy boots. The Rocky Mountain twist on an ancient Scandinavian travel technique (behind somewhat less-rowdy reindeer) is the real deal, as outlandish as a Doc Holliday shootout, and, on occasion, almost as consequential.
Entering his first skijoring competition for a segment in next fall’s Warren Miller film, extreme skier Chris Anthony found that out the hard way.
“I’m a little beat up,” Anthony said after his horse, Hollywood, helped alter his flight plan off the biggest jump on the course. “It was sort of like jumping out of a car onto my face.”
It almost goes without saying that success in equestrian skijoring has as much to do with the horse as with the skier. A strong steed will haul skiers at upward of 35 mph, pulling top finishers like Sunday’s winner, Jason Dahl, the length of the course in 15.95 seconds, or his brother, overall weekend champion Greg Dahl, in 16.79 seconds with their father, Jeff, in the saddle.
What should be said is that the potential for the most severe hazards may be reserved for the riders of the horses, not the skis. That was demonstrated Saturday when Dana Stiles’ horse, Kit, stumbled in the soft afternoon snow and rolled over her as Jason Dahl launched the first kicker. Stiles left in an ambulance but returned along with Dahl to compete the next day while a stitched-up Kit kicked it back at the barn.
It’s unlikely that skijoring will catch on in mainstream America anytime soon. As event director Paul Copper pointed out Saturday, “Heck, it only took the Warren Miller people 59 years to notice us.”
But that’s all right. Soon is a relative term in a place like Leadville. Authenticity, on the other hand, is absolute.
