He’ll never adorn the cover of winter sports magazines showing uber-athletes displaying the latest high tech clothing and gear. Yet if a trophy is given out for Most Time On Ice or Perfect Tracks, Jim Pahl will be the sure winner.
I was returning on Oct. 26 from a couple hour skate across solid, smooth ice in front of Sheridan Glacier with Carlos Comparon, likely second place finisher in both those trophy categories. We had skated over as far as we could toward Sherman Glacier in search of the pristine clear ice that often forms in front of that ice mass, more slow in developing due to the clear river that flows outward from beneath that glacier. Carlos and his two hounds had opted to quest onward, motivated by memories of ice that is so smooth and clear it is both thrilling and terrifying to glide effortlessly along while seeing nothing but water beneath your blades.
I recognized Jim from half a mile away. How could you not? Wearing a faded orange fisherman’s float coat, he seemed to be effortlessly floating across the ice, creating parallel tracks of Euclidean perfection. The skates worn by Carlos and me carved disjointed “V’s”.
I pulled up alongside Pahl. A wool hat and heavy wool trousers, plus leather work gloves, a white beard, blue eyes, and broad smile, completed his attire. “Hey, hi Dick, I thought it was you.” There were three people on the 3.1 miles of ice that runs from the edge of Sheridan to the face of Sherman Glacier, and he knew the other skater had to be Carlos, as that duo always gets “first ice.” Maybe he recognized me from a distance as a fellow old-timer, as I was also clad in wool bibs and knit cap.
It was what we had beneath our feet that separated us. I had skated on standard hockey skates for years, but recently switched to molded-plastic, foam-lined skates that have a pull-lace system plus a Velcro strap which makes putting them on very simple. They are also very warm, and wearing a single pair of Ultimax synthetic socks plus toes warmers means no more frozen toes at the end of the day.
Jim, in contrast, was wearing a pair of hiking shoes with grippers attached. How could that be? Because his mode of transportation was a pair of runners almost four feet long. He pioneered the local use of what is called a kick-sled, which includes a pair of handle bars, and two runners to stand on. With one foot resting on one of the blades, the other foot pushes off between the two runners, and gliding off you go, stable, smooth, and parallel forever.
More and more locals who have taken a tumble on rough or cracked ice are switching over to the clever device, but pioneer Pahl remains King of the Ice. Where better to interview him than while seeing the unit in action? He made a couple demo loops and then stopped to answer questions.
How fast can you go? “Oh, around 7 miles an hour when I’m just cruising along. I can get up to 13 miles an hour if I push it, and have topped 15 with a tailwind.” How do you know your speed? “Oh, see this little GPS unit on my basket? It gives me all that info, plus keeps track of the routes to get through the ice bergs.”
The basket Pahl mentioned did not come with the sled. It likely came from one of the local grocery stores. Made of blue plastic and a model of ingenuity, it was fastened to the handlebars by grab ties. Makers of kick sleds will probably add it as an accessory available for the right price.
Mounted on the side of the basket was a thermometer that looks like it came right off the shelves of Seaman’s Hardware. “Hey, nice thermometer,” said I. “Ya, it’s kind of nice to know how cold it is, as the ice forms much faster at lower temperatures. Plus I like the big numbers that are easy to read. “
Also mounted on the basket was a small ice axe. “Well, you know, it’s important to check the ice thickness now and then. Plus for safety in case you break through or need to help someone.”
Perhaps that explained the small coil of “throw rope” in the basket, which also held a thermos. ‘It’s nice to have something hot to drink now and then, and also stay hydrated.”
From his GPS, Pahl knew the 3.1-mile distance between the glaciers. “It’s actually further than that. The icebergs change locations every year, so working your way through them adds mileage.”
I asked how far he skated in a typical day. “Oh, it depends. I usually shoot for a marathon.” “Say what?” “Oh, you know, 26 miles.”
That doesn’t include the 1.8-mile round trip hike to get from the parking area to the ice. “Ya, but the kick sled is pretty light, and easy to pack.”
The October sun was starting downward, yet still carried some warmth. Off to the south you could hear water flowing from beneath the ice to cascade down the white-water upper reaches of Sheridan River. Everything was blue, white, and sparkling. Not many places offer icebergs of all shapes and sizes as part of the skating experience.
Pahl scanned the vista. “Isn’t this something? I never get tired of it. Where else would you want to be?”
Indeed! Just another day in Paradise, with characters like Jim Pahl to remind you so.
