10th Annual Potto Raid: a Delightful Challenge

More Photos Below!Gallery
The Potto Raid on the Potawatomi Trail was a success once again.

About 20 showed up to attempt various portions of the 18-mile-long trail or even the whole thing. …Or just the party afterward!

It’s self-supported and we expect to take 3 to 4 hours to finish. That’s a long time for “just” 18 miles, but the Poto is hillier and trickier than most trails.

It’s named the “Potto” after the spelling used for the early 1980’s bike events held out on the trail before it became a designated MTB trail. Nowadays it’s usually spelled Poto. But our host RadNord has been running events here since back in the day so he likes his old spelling.

It’s called a Raid because it’s more of a gentleman’s race. Raids are a European boating and alpine/AT skiing thing. They are larger outings with race portions, not just non-stop races. They’re meant to encourage partying as well as skill.

Speaking of which, our downstate XC BC Series is developing connections to the local businesses who like being part of the fresh air culture! Midtown Brewing Company sponsored our Raid apres’ ski party. Other breweries are joining in on our other events! Skiing is local and social and we like reaching out to anyone who likes a challenge!

So for the Raid RadNord likes to have the event run in stages. We have a neutral first half hour for chatting, photos, and as people get familiar with the conditions of the day and the style of the trail if they haven’t skied it much.

It’s always highly recommended to get to know what skiing the Poto is like before the Raid. Go out on your own and try some of the signature hills, both up and down. At first even though I know how to ski I had to take the downhills a lower half at a time until I figured out the Poto style and could do them calmly from top to bottom. The Poto has caused much loss of blood, injuries and broken gear. Respect it!

The Poto is more technical than any groomed ski trail. It’s more of a trials experience. Ski stepping and ski placement are critical. There’s little room for snowplowing so speed scrubbing is done more creatively, by running up on the side of a gulley or by dragging a ski in deeper snow. There’s also little room for herringboning an eroded, rooty, rocky uphill. The sidestepping “skidaddle” is the move of choice, as is deliberately stepping up and past obstacles while trying to stay relaxed.

After a half hour we take a break, strip clothes, eat a bit, then the faster skiers step it up a bit and start to get into their rhythm.

That’s when the biggest technical downhills are encountered. The leader after this stage is often considered to be the downhill champ. We then take another break at the halfway/shortcut bench. Even fewer skiers tend to show up any time soon for the rest and snack. After this stage the power effort of the event starts to kick in.

An hour of ridges, bridges and meadows later we come to our last rest stop on a boardwalk overlooking a wide lake view. Now only a few will be near each other for the final bites of pizza and rewaxing. Then the last portion of the trail is encountered — with the huge extended uphill nicknamed the Alp de Wheeze plus, of course, a few more technical downhills.

Good luck to everyone with keeping it together for the whole trail!

So this year was warmer and slushy with a wet half inch of clear, watery snow substance over top of a nice, proper half inch of clear ice base. Admiring the beauty of autumn leaves played a significant role in the trail experience.

Nowax skis were the items of choice. I used old full-length sandpaper-base skis that didn’t buzz like the Crowns. They had nice glide, too, which I was able to milk and so gradually inch off of the front — to the consternation of the stronger, faster youngsters on their new midlengths.

Ski choice never involves high tech prep. It’s more big picture than that. Those concerned about safety sometimes opt for metal edges. Sometimes conditions are good enough that some are tempted to use race skis, though it hasn’t been tried yet. Usually something in between is the answer. But what? Full-length skis glide better but are tough to handle on the tricky climbs and descents. Midlengths handle ice and turns best. Your skill level gives the answer. Good snow hints at waxables but 3-4 hrs of skiing always means changing conditions and rewaxing. But don’t do it too often! Races have been lost due to just one more stop to rewax. I often like Grip Tape when we have real snow but if it’s thin this is unwise: it rubs off on any exposed roots. Really, the best answer is: use what you like and what works for you!

The lead group was jumpy, with Ben going off the front between early stages. (“Is he going to wait up? What if he doesn’t?”) And then Jen — our fast gal — going away into the overall lead. Both moves served to up the pace in the early stages before the halfway. We were still trying to keep a “chatting pace” going by mutual consent but Jen was gaining “diesel time.” “If she gets too many minutes on us, it’s game over, boys.”

After a half hour of this we had another break. Ben did wait. But Jen was gone. At that point I started stringing moves together rather than pausing at each uphill and downhill. I didn’t go harder, though. I eventually saw Jen in the distance.

This year, thankfully, I had ironed out my knee problem (wear a brace) and my foot-nerve problem (pad the undertoe with foam) and my body stayed together.

I waited up at the halfway. But after that the hammer dropped for good. I inched off the front again but suddenly had a couple clothing malfunctions. I dropped an excess shirt. Only some hollering alerted me. So I waited for Dan to bring it up. My fannypack has lashing straps but they keep losing gear! I should spray the straps with grippy stuff. Then my suspenders fell off! I tied them around my shoulders as quick as I could. All told it was a solid minute lost and Stan had zoomed off the front.

I was with Dan and Gary and they speculated that it might all be over at this point. They were chatting and I thought that I could be going hard enough to make talking a bit more difficult. So my skis took me back on my way again and I gradually reeled Stan in.

Everyone tries to ski within themselves at this point, an hour from the finish, but here’s where seeing someone with a bit more pace can be demoralizing even if you only lose a few seconds. Gary did it to me last year. This year I inched away from Stan after I caught him.

It was darn wet and slushy, and getting stickier and I had to doublepole the downhills but I also found firm areas that glided OK. I figured that Stan was out-horsepowering me in the sticky stuff but I kept trying to milk everything else. I kept the pressure up into, on, and over all climbs. No wrong steps. I did fall and stumble a couple times. It’s a tricky trail! And each time I new the gap had narrowed by that amount. It’s like cyclocross where each move adds up and where each mistake costs a couple seconds.

I encountered Bernie who had skied the halfway loop. He asked How many are ahead? I said None!

We were in a big bowl area and I thought to keep an ear peeled for when I would hear Bernie’s resonant voice again. Sure enough, after less than a minute had passed I heard him hollering again: Stan! There were still many big tricky climbs and technical descents to come. Anything could happen!

I tried to ski as if Stan was just in front of me. I thought “It’s a half hour remaining. Treat it like a short cyclocross race!”

Really, I just tried to keep moving and to not screw up or blow up.

At the finish I had a few minutes on Stan and a few more on Dan. The youngsters are closing in! Then came Gary, Rad and Ben.

Ben lost a bottle of Gatorade and was standing by the trail bonking an hour to go when Rad passed him. He asked Ben how he was doing. Ben said “Bad. No food or water.” Rad put the hammer down. …That’s how it is!

Over the next half hour Jen and all the rest came in. Everyone was beaming from having “cleaned” yet another tricky Poto. No blood!

Jiffy Mix and Rad sponsored many door prizes and the deluxe podium sixers at the parking lot party. (A rare Hopslam six for the winner!)

We cranked up the car stereo and rehashed the dramas. Everyone was impressed by how good the conditions were for being so bad! The thin ice base protected our skis from damage but the mixed slush was an interesting challenge.

I wringed out my socks, changed footwear and kicked back. Ahhh!!

The hardwood ridges and lake views of the Poto are unmatched. And the flow of the trail is unmatched for skiing satisfaction. A few weeks later I went up north and skied a top-shelf groomed trail system. The lack of flow-challenge was noticeable and I missed our “crude” downstate action. I guess I’m just hooked on the cyclocross type of skiing! …Where stringing together each piece of footwork determines the sense of flow more than glidewax, grooming or pure power. I guess I like detailed action more than raw power. Probably because I have so much less power anymore. But maybe not. Tricky power is something one can appreciate at any time of life.