Up until Sunday, I had only heard of Sea to Ski through excited anecdotes from the folks here at the Cascade Radio Group. From tales of team antics to a smattering of pun-derful team names, I was intrigued from the moment the event first came up in conversation. I’ve never heard of an event quite like it before.

In preparation for Ski to Sea 2022, the biggest hurdle for me was trying to wrap my head around how this race was laid out. I had to draw a whole diagram at one point in an attempt to visualize it.

It also didn’t help that I still hadn’t made it to the top of Mt. Baker until the day of the race. This time, I didn’t have the option to turn around. I warned our part-timer, Maddie, that I wouldn’t take too kindly to being spooked while heading up to the top at 5 am. Fortunately, she was an excellent passenger. The ride up was a smooth one.

It’s been quite a while since I’ve been to a ski area, let alone skiing. By May, I’m not even thinking about mountains or any sport associated with them- especially considering the temperatures have been in the lower 60’s over the past few weeks. So it’s safe to say that I felt pretty stupid walking out of my house at 4 am in several layers and long socks. But by the time we hopped out of the KGMI van at the Heather Meadows Ski Lodge, I knew almost immediately that I should’ve brought more layers. Both Maddie and our intern, Garrett, also came to that realization as they were setting up our broadcast tent. Joe Teehan saved the day with some spare KGMI coats and gloves, and we were on our way to prepare for our live coverage.

Next year, I’m digging out the snow boots that I thought I’d never use again after leaving Syracuse.

People began trickling in around 6:30. By 7:00, there was a massive crowd of athletes and their supporters right outside of our tent. If you tuned into our live coverage that early, you probably heard them congregating. Maybe they were grabbing a quick bite at Erin Baker’s. Maybe they were going over their game plan for the day. Maybe they were warming up, getting some stretches in, and making sure their gear was up to muster. Or, more than likely, maybe they were hyping each other up for the return of this spectacular event. The excitement in the air was abundant. You could practically breathe it in.

(Photo: Garrett Rahn)

I’ll have to link a sound clip to the start of the race, because none of us first-timers were prepared for the “starting boom” that kicked off the day’s events. Garrett and Maddie’s reactions were priceless. If they weren’t awake after that point, I’m not sure what else could’ve woken them up. We were right next to the trio of speakers that provided the “starting boom.” It was certainly enough to get the first 350 competitors past the starting line, that’s for sure.

From our point of view, we were able to see a few areas of the cross-country course. One of them was a slope that skiiers had to ascend. Every time I saw someone struggling to make it up that hill, I winced. Due to a knee injury, I’m hesitant about certain uphill climbs. I can’t even imagine trying to try an ascent on skis. But the more I watched, the more I admired the people putting themselves out in the snow at 7:30 am on a Sunday. I know that there were competitive divisions mixed in with the recreational athletes. There was never an air of arrogance, or any sort of expectation that people should come out on top. Spirits were high. I believe people were just happy to be on top of Mt Baker again.

(Photo: Garrett Rahn)

I thought the cross country slope was bad, but Joe didn’t hesitate to remind me what the downhill skiiers and snowboarders had ahead of them. You’d think they’d have the easiest path up to the top of the PanDome- hop on a ski lift and slide on down, right? Boy, was I wrong. I could barely see them making the 1000-or-so foot trek up an even steeper slope to the top. Yikes. Count me out of that leg, should I ever be talked into competing.

As mesmerizing as it was to watch more downhill competitors descend above the cloud cover, my train of thought was interrupted by some of the first finishers of the downhill portion whizzing past the finish line. There were still downhillers waiting for their cross country counterparts to get through their leg! Considering how cold I was, I can’t imagine how those folks felt as they waited to get their move on. At the same time, I certainly didn’t envy some of the runners walking around in shorts and- in a few cases- sandals before their leg kicked off.

As the runners wrapped up their 8-mile downhill dart, the fine folks with the WSP let us drive back down to sea level. We passed by the tail end of the road bikers, at least one of whom was tending to a broken wheel along the route. Distance-wise, they had the most ground to cover. 48 miles of road from the WSDOT shed at the bottom of the mountain all the way up to Everson? That’s one heck of a schlep. We made our way back to the station to prepare for the sea kayak broadcast portion, at which point I went home for a quick lunch. I wasn’t going to let my first Ski to Sea end unresolved.

(Photo: Joe Teehan)

According to the official Ski to Sea 2022 results page, this is Jeff Hilburn. Jeff’s team, Birch Bay Equipment, finished 1st overall with a total time of 5:59:48- making them the only team to finish under 6 hours this year. For those who managed to catch the very end of this race, you can confirm that it was a very close run all the way until the finishing bell. The second-place team, Beaver’s Tree Service, came across the line less than 30 seconds later! Talk about a nail-biter of a finish. I made my way down to Marine Park some time after the first kayakers made their way out of the waters. The sun had come out by that point, and similar to the downhill skiiers/snowboarders I observed earlier, they looked like ants crawling to the edge of Bellingham Bay.

It was a lot more crowded at this point. Families had flocked to the beach to get a glimpse of the last leg. Kids were throwing rocks into the waters- I’m not sure if that’s a help or hinderance to the kayakers, but at least they were having fun. If you weren’t down by the water, downtown Fairhaven was also abuzz with activity. I floated among the vendors and food trucks, the beer gardens and the live music all around the area. And people were celebrating the weekend outside of the Fairhaven Festival as well. I passed by a backyard BBQ that was blasting reggae, and thought for a moment that the festival was localized to that one backyard. I’ll admit, it was very tempting to drop by for a plate of whatever they were cooking (it smelled magnificent).

By the time I got a patio seat at Paws For A Beer, it finally hit me that Ski to Sea isn’t just a big relay race across Whatcom County. It’s not some once-a-year community gathering that people feel obligated to attend because it’s an extended holiday weekend. I suppose for some, the end results of the race matter. But it seemed that people were more interested in cheering on whoever made it to the end of their respective leg. People were rooting for the sun, which gave us some lovely rays at the end of the day. And, for the first time since I moved here, I found that folks were rooting for each other. In interviews I’ve done for KGMI’s Eye On Crime, some folks have mentioned that a lack of community has led to a rise in crimes across the region. I know that one event won’t necessarily solve everything. But there’s no doubt in my mind that this aspect won’t be the most difficult to address. I felt like part of the Whatcom County community while mingling among the crowds. Whether on top of Mt. Baker (for real, this time) or on the shores of Bellingham Bay, I felt a renewed sense of community spirit.

It’s an honor and a true privilege to live here. Cheers to the return of Ski to Sea, and next year- I’ll bring a better pair of shoes for the slopes.