50 kilometers of pure Wisconsin land gives Hayward a world-class race, an economic boost and a communal core.
Start line: Spandex-clad skiers line up in waves at Cable Union Airport in the early hours of a frigid northern Wisconsin morning. Approximately 31 miles stand between these racers and the finish line in Hayward, Wisconsin. They’re prepared to conquer a distance on skis roughly equal to that from Mitchell Airport in south Milwaukee to the Illinois border, hoping to return to civilization at the end of the day.
Approximately 50 kilometers of pure Wisconsin land marks an international stage for cross-country skiers and serves as an economic and communal core for the city of Hayward. Each winter Hayward, in the far northern corner of the state, plays host to the Birkebeiner, the largest cross-country ski race in the country.
While Hayward is known globally for the race, the community of locals defined by the Birkebeiner, affectionately known as the Birkie, goes largely unnoticed. Months of preparation, outreach and a 107-kilometer trail system used year round unite the rural city.
“You look at all the races that are doing well now, like the color runs and the monster dashes, and part of it is that sense of adventure,” Birkie Executive Director Ben Popp says. “This is the ultimate adventure.”
Birkebeiner history traces to one man: Tony Wise. Wise grew up in Hayward, fought the Nazis in World War II and returned to Wisconsin with alpine-turned-cross-country dreams. After seeing world-class ski resorts in Switzerland and Austria, Wise recognized the potential for a downhill ski resort in Wisconsin. Despite the lack of variation in elevation, Wise created Telemark, a resort for the upper class that featured entertainment from Chicago and a northwoods getaway. As competition began to rise, Wise realized the need for an entirely different sport, says 75-year-old John Kotar, one of the first Birkie racers.
“He heard about these fantastic citizens’ races, as they’re called, that were held in Norway and particularly in Sweden,” Kotar says. “Someone put the bug into Tony’s ear, so to speak, that you could have this kind of event, and no one else has had that kind of a race in this country.”
At this time in the early 1970s, cross-country skiing was extremely inaccessible. Nonetheless, Wise decided to organize a 50-kilometer race that began in Hayward and ended in Cable.
“Tony was primarily a promoter,” Kotar says. “He figured if he could get the word out there, he could make it sound huge and all that, people would come.”
According to Kotar, who was one of the original 35 racers in 1973, Wise advertised in Duluth and the Twin Cities. Within a few short years, that small number grew to reach thousands. As Wise’s Telemark faced bankruptcy, the community realized how important the Birkie was to its local economy.
“You know one of the sort of aces in [Wise’s] hand was this Birkie event,” Kotar says. “And he threatened to pull it out of the Hayward-Cable area and move it into Minnesota.”
The American Birkebeiner Ski Foundation formed in response to Wise’s threat. The foundation successfully prevented the race from moving by legally declaring that it belonged to the region, according to Kotar. This view of the Birkie as an unparalleled economic resource for the Hayward area hasn’t changed. Today Sawyer County is the second poorest in the state even with the Birkie, according to Popp.
In January 2014 UW-Extension published a case study conducted on the economic impact of silent sports, defined as cross-country skiing, biking and running, on northern Wisconsin. The study found that in 2012, nonresident visitors to Sawyer, Bayfield and Ashland counties spent about $26.4 million, with the Birkie being the largest event.
Notably, the common factor among the silent sports is the land, which provides a backbone for northern Wisconsin’s economic stability.
“We can have this really positive impact on it financially because you have people come for that day, but they are coming back to the area, they are eating in restaurants, staying in hotels, building second homes,” Popp says. “If we put on great experiences, they will come back again.”
Halfway point: As racers emerge from the woods they spot a log-crafted structure on the opposite side of County Road OO with an arch to ski through, indicating they have completed half of the course.
Since its founding, the Birkie has been regarded as a citizens’ race, indicating that anyone who is able to stand the cold, has $115 for the early registration fee and who believes they can ski 50 kilometers is welcome to race.
“It’s really interesting because you get the super athletic, strict, have the neoprene tight suits, and they are really competitive,” says Jared Ursin, a Hayward Middle School art teacher. “And then you have people who are there just in flannel-lined jeans and they are wearing a flannel shirt.”
Popp made similar remarks about why the Birkie stands out among other cross country ski races in the country, citing a unique “international flair” to the race that attracts high-profile racers.
“You have all these international people that come, but then also you have Johnny-down-the-street that does it,” Popp says.
It’s Johnny-down-the-street who lives in Hayward year round and experiences the American Birkebeiner Ski Foundation’s efforts beyond race week. The race has always favored the common racer, but the foundation is now making greater efforts to include the community beyond one day in February. However, before addressing the foundation’s new initiatives, it is important to recognize existing divisions in the city and less favorable views toward the race.
“Because it’s such a privileged sport, it costs a lot of money to ski, usually [very] few people of color ski, and we have a lot of poverty in Hayward,” says Caitlin Flynn, a senior at UW-Madison and Hayward native. “So you never see that part of the community really targeted for getting involved with the Birkie.”
Flynn describes the city of Hayward as one that does not facilitate a lot of inclusivity but views the actual Birkie race as a rare occasion where residents come together to help fill downtown in celebration.
“Birkie weekend was very cool because … all the town is completely filled,” Flynn says. “It’s hard to find a place to see the finish because so many people are down there. Just seeing people come together just a little bit for that is really special to me.”
About one mile from the finish line: “People line up out on Hayward Lake ice fishing and skiers will stop to have a beer with them, but there is also a hill where snowmobiles park and heckle the racers,” Ursin says. “So there is that, too.”
Some locals view the influx of 40,000 people to the rural community as another drawback. While many express frustration toward tourists and road closures, for the most part the economic importance is not lost on residents. Both Ursin and Flynn were honest about the desire to stay away from the craziness, yet admitted there is a certain allure to the festivities.
“I like the Birkie more because there is more of a camaraderie feel to it, so like lining up along Main Street for the finish, and people got cow bells, and I have a lot of friends in the race, too,” Ursin says. “Our principal, he races in it, and I drive out to a spot and give him his Gu pack and a Gatorade.”
A major component of Birkie outreach is focusing on developing younger generations of skiers and supporters by reaching out to the local school district. Among the Birkie’s many initiatives is to raise $50,000 for the school district this winter through the district’s “Like a Cane” campaign, inspired by the school’s mascot, the Hayward Hurricanes. The foundation intends to sell “Ski Like a Cane” pins to incoming skiers. At the fall 2014 homecoming pep rally, students viewed one of six videos intended to boost morale early for the 2015 Birkie race, according to Popp.
“They take these events like the Birkie and really put that into our school’s culture to kids,” Ursin says. “Like you can do great things like this and race.”
Other foundation initiatives include a temporary pedestrian bridge over U.S. Highway 63 to eliminate the traffic detour, a five-year campaign to build a permanent start area and a partnership with the Mayo Clinic to combat obesity. Part of the foundation’s mission is to “support an active outdoor lifestyle,” according to Popp.
“We have about 40,000 people in our database, and you look at these people and they obviously have some level of activity because they can ski 50 kilometers,” Popp says about the Mayo Clinic partnership. “So we want to take this group of people and create a baseline…what is their lifestyle like and trying to find [those] threads.”
At the core of all things Birkie is the trail itself. Popp and Kotar both identified the land as an important reason why the Birkie stands out among other races. Preserving the land is important because it is Birkie’s greatest resource, according to Popp.
“There is only one Birkie trail,” Popp says. “[The trail system is] 107 kilometers long, it’s unbelievably iconic, it’s got all of these rolling hills, it’s really in the middle of nowhere.”
Kotar also notes the cultural history of the race as a remarkable difference between the Birkie and other races in the country. Wise successfully transplanted Norwegian ski culture in the Midwest. He created a “majestic” display of international flags of participating nations, enlisted help from an Austrian master ice sculptor, developed a parade of nations and even hired the University of Wisconsin Marching Band, according to Kotar.
“All of this was extremely popular with the general public who, in addition to the competitors, came to enjoy the spectacle each February,” Kotar says. “Nothing of this sort existed at any other citizens’ race here or in Europe, so this reputation has stuck with us and today, the American Birkebeiner Ski Foundation is working hard on recapturing and maintaining some of these traditions and carrying the event on for younger generations.”
There is hope for more inclusiveness as the foundation continues to show that to be active and to take advantage of the trail does not require competition or Birkie-level athleticism. Community events on the trail include a 5K color dash sponsored by the school’s art department, the Fat Bike Birkie and practice for the school’s nordic ski teams.
This Wisconsin land creates a common ground for community members. The extensive trail system provides year-round opportunities for residents and serves as a stage for world-class cross-country skiing that the town can rally around each winter.
Finish line: “The best part, so you start up in Cable, get closer and closer to town and recognize all these places I’ve been skiing on for years,” Flynn says. “And then you come through Main Street after just going through the hardest part of the race and then just having everyone cheer and ring the bells … it was just incredible.”