The Last Day of the Olympics

It is the last day of the Olympics and time to go home. It went so fast but it is time to go back to my real life and leave behind this happy place. Yesterday, as we strolled through the mall, we could tell that the air was beginning to change. There were fewer international flags, fewer people and the energy in the air had started to shift back to the way Whistler usually feels. There is a bit of a sadness to see the world change back to "normal" but such great memories will linger long after we get home.

There were 2 events left at Whistler yesterday. The men's slalom where more than half of the field DNFd (did not finish). The course took some of the best competitors out, including Ted Ligety and Bode Miller. Left standing at the finish line were:

1. Giuliani Razzoli from Italy
2. Ivaica Kostelic from Croatia
3. Andre Myhrer from Sweden

One by one, the racers fell on the foggy course, leaving course workers to clean up the mess, to try and keep the course in relatively decent shape, but they couldn't keep up with the snow, the fog or the crashes. The Weasels had their hands full, and the race was soon over. This is Whistler. The conditions especially at the bottom are marginal a lot of the time. There has been no new snow in town except a trace one day this week that melted by 7:30 am.... and now it is over for the slalom skiers.

The US had a great day on the 4 man bobsleigh hill. Steven Holcomb and his crew in the USA 1 sled won a gold medal. It was the first time a US bobsleigher has won in 62 years. He and his team were ecstatic as they realized they had won such a prestigious honor, and broke such a record. Congratulations to those brave and hard working souls who took hours upon hours of their life to obtain such a reward.

And now the games are finishing.....But there is something more to share about this trip that I have not talked about yet.

I've kept very quiet who we were staying next to. The house next door held the Norwegion men's ski team. We could identify Aksel Swindal (yes he won medals), Kuetil Jansrud, who was in the hunt for medals, and Lief Haugen. I actually identified them my first week here as they drove past in their VANOC issued vehicles. Those are the vehicles that have access to all of the parking lots that are closed to the rest of us, and either belonged to teams or managers from VANOC. Every morning of a men's ski race, I would hear them leave somewhere between 6-6:45am. Nearly every afternoon, I would see them come home, in their ski boots and skis, with gear etc. I really didn't want to disturb them. This neighborhood is very quiet and peaceful, and I wanted to make sure to give them privacy.

Sure, I thought about going over and saying hello, since I know some Norwegian, and to let them know that I am also a ski racer, but I could imagine their blank stares, like....so what...your an old ski racer.....and you're invading the little privacy we have....so decided against going to talk to them.

Last night, at 3:45am, the Norwegian team had a car load of girls serenading them. I was awakened out of a dead sleep with 3-4 young voices singing to the top of their lungs, some kind of Norwegian song that I couldn't catch the lyrics of. Even if it was English, I wouldn't have been able to understand the lyrics because they were screaming the song...loudly. In the background was their car stereo that was playing some kind of rap song as they yelled. They were able to complete one serenading song, and start another one. Suddenly, the singing stopped as soon as it started, and the car drove off quickly as if they were chased off by someone.....

It dawned on me that in my sleep, I had heard cars coming and going all night, but kind of put it out of my sleepless mind. It was the last night of the Olympics, and the Norwegians were celebrating their accomplishments and good fortune. I didn't mind losing a bit of sleep since this is the last night, and they've been great neighbors up to this point.

I hadn't talked about this any earlier in my blog because privacy is of paramount importance here. All around us were living people who were driving the VANOC issued cars, and I'm not sure where everyone was from, nor did we do any further snooping. People deserve their privacy, as much as we do. I was able to identify the Norwegian ski team when they would drive by and looked up their pictures online to confirm...and yes...it was them. As I write this at 7:00 am, I am certain they are still sleeping. I don't hear a thing from them as I sit here. We can usually hear them either talking in the driveway, or hear their cars coming and going. But, today, there is nothing, except maybe the sound of snoring...

So, this is it....the end of a little over 2 weeks of a journey that has brought excitement, sadness, adventures, joy, and grief. It is all the Olympics should be. The sports were beautifully done, there were bone crunching crashes, there were people laying it all out on the line to be the best in the world, and they didn't disappoint.

The time has come to transition back to my life in Seattle, to my favorite Safeway stores. It is time to drive the same lane of I-5 from work and back. It is time to sit at my desk and round with attending physicians and interns.....which in and of itself is very interesting work. But it is different than the worldliness of sharing 2 weeks with people from everywhere, who come to share a piece of their lives with others coming to a different world. Although we have been to Whistler on a number of occasions, there will never be another time like this, and I know it. I knew it when we were walking the village and observing and participating with others. In the conversations that were sometimes in English, some Norwegian and Swedish, some in broken German since Rod can speak a bit of German. Everyone wanted to try and communicate in some way, and I don't think there are many places in the world where there is the desire to try to communicate with others like this. I've enjoyed the people, the athletes, the environment, the shopping, and the big screen TVs everywhere so you don't miss one run of whatever is running.

For those of you who have been following and reading, thank you for your encouragement and comments. It has been great to give a glimpse into such an interesting time in life when there is turmoil around the world. I've loved sharing the goodness, the sadness, and the excitement of what I've seen. I know not everyone desires or has the opportunity to experience this kind of event, and if in some little way, you were able to see something you haven't seen before, or were perhaps able to feel something special from what I have written about, then all of this typing was worth it. Thank you all for your kind words and to Rod for finding my typos and letting me know if there was something he couldn't understand. This has been perhaps the best experience of my life....

Hockey!! Slalom...ladies

The Canadians LOVE their hockey. In fact, it is one of the first things I heard when coming to Canada. I know I have written about this once before, but it pervades the air here at Whistler.

Wednesday was my last day of work for volunteering. It was especially busy that day with a number of people coming in for the finals of the women's bobsleigh where the Canadians were favored to win. Between my colleague, Taylor and I, we checked in nearly 400 volunteers and paid staff in about 6 hours. In between times, we would talk about family and friends and plans to which events we were going to see for the rest of the games. Of course, people all day were talking about how they were going to watch the Canada versus Russia game which started at 4:30 that day.

As a volunteer, we received gifts at the third, sixth and ninth days of our shifts. On the last day, we received a silver medalion, a swatch with the Olympic logo, a key chain from Birks (the equivalent of Tiffanys in the US) and a tuque. We had fun today with the final gifts. Sheila, one of the other volunteers was also working her last shift, so we presented each other with our parting gifts and said a great thank you to each other for all of the help and support each of us had given to these Olympic games. It was a statement that we had given to others upon their last shifts and departures, and now we were giving it to each other. I have really gotten to enjoy Sheila. When she is not a volunteer, she works in palliative care with children who have lost their parents, mainly to cancer or other diseases like ALS (Lou Gehrigs). We had a lot in common. Her smile and genuine authenticity made her very easy to like. We enjoyed talking to one another during our times together.

So, we gave each other our parting gifts, exchanged email addresses and she had to go and help on the platform to support sleighs at the start or finish lines.

So, Taylor and I finished working our shift. He still had time left to work, as it was not his last shift. Taylor has his own commercial real estate business in Toronto, and owns a home in Whistler. He decided to take 2 weeks off of his business to come and work at the Olympics. He and his cousin are partners in the business which sounds like is going well despite the downfall of the market last year. They were one of the survivors.

Since every person who worked the sliding centre had to be checked in, we met them all. From track crew to physicians, to anti-doping personnel, and there were a lot of those. The ant doping team would show up when the athletes showed up to be monitored for any substances banned by the IOC. So far, there hadn't been any issues in our area, but there is also very close monitoring. The anti-doping team have a state of the art lab for monitoring all substances that could be considered enhancement drugs. The people they send to do the testing are all very nice, down to earth easy to be around people. In my head, and when I think of anti doping, I think of the Gestapo, standing by in uniform with death grip stares and a side arm ready to pull. But this is not the case. The blood doping personnel are just people like the rest of us who are funny and intelligent and easy to talk to. I liked the anti doping people....Of course I like everyone anyway, but they didn't look like what I expected...

So, it was my last shift, and Kate, my manager, came up and said, "it's quitting time", and put her arm in the air and pretended she was pulling down the quitting horn, like on the Flintstones right before Fred Flintstone rides down the back of the dinosaur he is working on. She says, "Did you get all of your gifts? Here come to the box and lets make sure you have everything we are giving away, because you get everything". There was a tuque and a pin that I hadn't received yet, so she gave those to me, and a great big hug and a big thank you for everything. There were tears and it was hard to leave. This had been my little home for a couple of weeks, and I had come to really like my workmates and environment. The same people would come in everyday, and I was used to greeting them and saying hello, and started to know things about some of those people who checked in. I was going to miss coming in everyday. But it was time to go.....

I texted to Rod, who was on his way back up to Whistler, and he said he was at the trailer. He had driven up that morning, and had just arrived. We decided to meet some place to watch the Canadian/Russian hockey game. So, we met at Earls, which has come to be one our favorite places for the food and atmosphere. We luckily got a seat right in front of the TV and hunkered down with more interesting people. We sat first with two women from San Francisco who came to watch the bobsleigh. We had another woman from Connecticut join us who was staying behind after 2 of her friends had to go back to work in Connecticut. She was here on business, as the marketing director of Coca Cola and had been heli skiing the day before and had a great time. Everyone has a great time here.

So the Canadian/Russian game starts, and the entire restaurant goes into upheaval...yelling cheering, waving flags and hooting. It is all good clean and fun cheering...and the game begins. It is not long before there is a Canadian goal, and Earls goes from noisy to an eruption that makes it feel like a compression has occurred. The Canadians LOVE their hockey!! I find myself swept up in the fun. I know how much this game means to my new Canadian friends, and I'm just as excited as the rest. We had also been sitting by a man from Ireland and his Canadian son, who looked like a hockey player, and even had on what looked like a letterman's jacket from Canada...I wonder if he played?.....We should have asked him.

The Canadians score another goal, and another, and the Russians look like they are chasing red uniforms all over the ice....Rod and I decide to leave since it looks like the game is in the bag, and because unfortunately, I am feeling like I am coming down with a cold....a really bad one...

I was sick all day on Thursday, and slept nearly all day. Rod went into the village and went shopping watched women's hockey, where the US women lost to Canada. I was totally oblivious and lost in dreamland.

Friday morning we had ticket to the women's slalom. The Americans didn't fair all that well in slalom. When Lindsey Vonn came out of the gate, she attacked the course with a vengeance. She was fast, on pace, and looked like she was a top contender. The slalom course was set up so that the top was a fairly easy start, it was a bit flatter, but then about 12 gates into it, there was a knoll. It was the knoll that separated the skilled from the non-skilled, the women from the girls, and today, it took Lindsey Vonn out. She came over the knoll with a very fast time, and then, suddenly, without any warning, she straddled a gate. Unfortunately ski racing is 100% or nothing. There is nothing for a 99% run. All gates must be passed. Lindsey didn't quite pull it off, but she is also not best known for her slalom. She is the speed queen, the woman who I wouldn't want to race down the hill on her worst day. Lindsey walked away with 2 Olympic medals, and has nothing to be ashamed of. She has a broken pinky finger that she broken crashing in the GS and walks away giving it her all. You can't fault that.

There is another story about this race that is interesting. There is a woman here racing from Iran. Her name is Marjan Kalhor. Her picture is above above the one of Lindsey Vonn. She is the first woman Olympian ever from Iran and we were standing next to her support system. There are 3 athletes here from Iran, one woman and two men. As we understand the story, she was requested to wear her burka during the race by her "country", and I didn't hear exactly "who" that was, but she was supposed to wear it at all times as to not be a disgrace to her country. She said that she would dress as the rest of the girls did for racing and then go back to wearing her burka. Marjan was 55th out of 55 finishers. The little cheering section next to us cheered as she came down the hill as she worked her way slowly through the course. She didn't look like the top of the line ski racers, the Maria Reischs (1st), Marlies Schild (2nd) or Sarka Zahrobska (3rd). In fact, she was probably more like one of our slower master's racers, but she was here, the first from her country, coming down the hill, dressed like the rest of her racing group, and taking a risk that she could be disowned from her country. It is unknown what will happen to her when she gets back to Iran. She is a very brave woman in my eyes.

It is the stories like this that intrigue me about the Olympics. It isn't always about the medals...but it is the stories of people who sacrifice possibly their lives for being a participant here. I am in awe of their bravery and strength....and I don't think we always understand, being from a free country, what it would be like to break free......free of what seems to be oppression.

My cold seemingly lasted for only a day or so, and I was better. Rod and I went to dinner at Umbertos, and it was fabulous.


The time is coming to an end here, and I find myself starting to transition from being here to starting to think about what I will encounter when I get back to work. It is only a couple of days until I get back home, to my normal life.....yet I still find myself hanging onto this place until it is done.

Busted at the Border

Going back and forth across the border can be quite easy, or it can be very challenging. When Rod and Nate were going back home to the US after the last visit here, the were busted for a kilogram of marijuana planted under their truck. But, it's not what you think, and no one is in jail.

As it turns out, when Rod and Nate were a few cars back from customs, an officer approached them asking if they wouldn't mind if the marijuana was planted under the car so that one of their dogs in training could detect it. It was the final step in the process for this dog to become fully trained in the detection of marijuana at the border. They agreed, the drugs were planted, and they went through the border. The dog, with whom Rod duly nicknamed, Maddy's revenge, approached the truck and sniffed out the kilo marijuana hiding in the truck. The trainers and guards were ecstatic and thanked them for letting the dog earn his final stripes. The dog was praised well, and Rod and Nate traveled through the remainder of the border happy that they could help.

The People We Meet and the Olympic Torch

One of the best things about being here at Whistler, is that it seems like it is the happiest place on earth. Up until this time in my life, Disneyland held that esteemed honor. I don't think I've ever been in a place where conversation flow like they do here, with complete strangers. There is a camaraderie among people from all over the world.

Take, for instance, the 4 men from Sweden. I was walking through the village after work with my volunteer uniform on, which really is a license to get asked questions. Anything from where is the washroom, to where is my hotel?

One evening, I was walking through the village, and looked over at 4 men dressed in black, with hardsided rolling black suitcases to match. They all had the look of, "where am I, and what do I do next". They knew enough to point at me (in my smurf uniform) and address me in very broken English, "Can you help?"

"Yes", I say, and walk towards their group.

The one who called me over, clearly knows no more English, and motions to his friend to talk to me. I can tell it is either Norwegian or Swedish that they are speaking to one another. So, I ask, "Er du Norsk og Svensk?"

He responds, "Vi ar fra Sverige", translated means from Sweden.

I go on and say, "Jeg vet litte Norsk", which means I know a little Norwegian. Now, I say this because Norwegians and Swedes can talk to each other in their own languages and get by. I'm not sure that with my little Norwegian, their little English and our situation, that we are going to be able to tell our life stories and understand anything. So, try as we might. They were looking for Earl's restaurant, next to their hotel, as it turns out, and I was trying to tell them how to get there. It is difficult to give directions in the village anyway with the way the village turns one direction and then another.

So, I decide rather than use my bad Norwegian, and try to communicate, I said I would take them to Earls so they could find where they needed to go.

As we walked, it took about 5 minutes to get there, they told me that they were there to see the Nordic skiers in the morning, and were staying the rest of the week. We talked about Anja Paerson's crash in the downhill and subsequent bronze medal the next day. It's amazing what words and gestures can do to round out the conversation. Between the 5 of us, we were able to talk and gesture about Anja's crash so everyone knew what we were talking about. There was laughter and gestures, and an instant like for one another. This is what happens here. All over, every day. When we arrived at Earls, they shook my hand vigorously, say thank you, over and over and asked if I wanted to have a drink with them. As much as that would have been fun, and a nice gesture, I really had things I had to get done that evening, and it was rather late, so declined. But the gratefulness they extended for such a small favor was special.

While on the Peak to Peak gondola, was another interesting encounter. Due to the Olympics, there are people riding the Whistler gondola up the hill in street clothes, getting to the top, riding the Peak to Peak gondola over to the Blackcomb side for lunch, and then riding back the same way they came. On Monday, I had a day off and decided to go skiing. It was a glorious day without a cloud in the sky. I skied over on the Whistler side for awhile, ran into Pat Murphy from Schweitzer, with whom we ski race, and skied alongside the Olympic courses. You can't get on the course, but you can see it.

On the gondola, were 3 men who had never seen anything like this. 2 of the 3 had never skied and were in awe of the view. It was absolutely stunning. I have to say, the Peak to Peak makes me a little squeamish. It is 4.3 kilometers in length and I can't remember how high off the ground it is, but the tall fir trees look like blades of grass from the height. Because the gondola nearly stopped, I think I made a sound that was detected a bit of nervousness on my part. The 3 men were saying that they felt a bit like that, too. Across from me was a ski instructor from Australia who said, "it doesn't usually do that, mates". So, people start talking.

So, the conversation starts, "Where are you from" and they were from Ontario. One of them states that he isn't afraid because he has gone skydiving before. Then the razzing begins, "yeah, you went skydiving before you had responsibilities, wife, kids..." the other one adds, "before you had any brain cells" to which the other one adds, "and now he has no more brain cells anyway. Let's go kill some more" and they start laughing. It eases the tension and the gondola starts moving again.

The men ask where I am from, and I say, "the states", and they start razzing me about the hockey game, the BIG game, US against Canada. The US won 5-3 in an upset and the Canadians want their revenge. The are expecting the gold in hockey, and the game with the US was a huge upset to them. I tell them I am very sorry, and hoped that their next game against Germany would give them a victory (which they do 8-2). We get off of the gondola, and another invitation to drinks, but I want to ski....and tell them that. Actually, I was quite nice about it, "I'm sorry but I'd rather ski than get drunk with the likes of you."....Just kidding. I didn't really say that, but just said that the slopes were calling and I needed to go....

I hopped on my skis and went to find the best turns possible.

At my workplace, one of the torchbearers for the Olympic torch works also. For a contribution to the Boys and Girls Club of Vancouver, you can have your picture taken with the torchbearer and carry the torch for a moment. So, I gave a contribution, and he started taking my picture. The best part is what I learned. The torch was carried for nearly 28,000 miles and Don, the torchbearer in the picture carried it through downtown Vancouver for over 300 meters. He got to keep the torch, and it sits, well protected right behind our workplace behind glass when pictures aren't being taken. When he was carrying the torch, he said it was difficult to run because people swarmed around him and wanted to run with him. He loved the experience. The red mittens that were used have been a sensation around here and the village ran out. I had people stop me in the village at the end of last week asking me if I knew where they could buy red mittens. Fortunately more mittens were ordered and made and now they can be found again. Elianor, my work buddy, gave me a pair my first day at work, so I will have them to remember these events.

Yesterday, while at work, the woman who writes our daily newsletter became ill and couldn't come into work. Candance, my deputy manager came up and said, "How would you like to write the newsletter today? I hear you like to blog, so how about writing a couple of articles?" I know this entails going out to the venue and interviewing someone and writing about it. I agree to do it, go into the computer room to look at the layout, and start the process. The paper is called "The Icy Times" since this venue is possible because of an Icy track. I take the camera outside (in the rain, unfortunately) and try to find volunteers who will let me write about them.

At the top of curve 11 is Mike Bailey, who is on the track crew. I had met him when I was pulling shades in the sun, and was intrigued by his knowledge of the course. I go up, and find out he is paid staff, and ask him questions. I found out he if from Calgary, and had worked the track there for several years. He came out over a year ago to Whistler to work the track here when he heard it was going to be an Olympic track. He loves his work and can't imagine doing much else. The best thing about his job? Each day is different and brings a different challenge to overcome. The ice changes with temperature and humidity, and his job is to manage all of the conditions. They have a variety of tools they use to scrape ice, build ice, smooth ice and refrigerate ice. It is amazing what they can do.

I also met Dorothy, from the Northshore of Vancouver. She came to the volunteer because a friend of her son talked her into it. "I am not a jock" she confesses with a smile, but I love meeting people from all over the world. Her experiences have been very interesting. She talked a lot to the girlfriend of the single luger from India who had great runs. She has talked to athlete's parents and coaches and loves working with the other volunteers. She says with a smile, "the volunteers here are lovely".

I put a few more things into our newsletter, and it was ready to print, after proofing.

I'm glad I am here, and pleased that there is time to just chat with people wherever you go. The time crunch of being at home with work, the commute and the home responsibilities is not here, so there is time to sit and talk, and I like this.

There are a few more days left here, and I feel more relaxed than I have in years. Even though I am volunteering, it just isn't the same kind of work when you're home every day and working. It's just different, and I'm about ready to put in my last shift as a volunteer, and I am sad about it. I have come to really care for the people with whom I work, and I know there won't be anything like this again in my life, unless I go to Russia in 2014.....which is highly unlikely. So, it is time to savor every last moment....and understand the meaning of it. I will stay here for a few more days, but my volunteering is nearly over.....it's hard to believe.

There is still ladies figure skating, more hockey, 4 man bobsleigh, women's GS, hockey and slalom. So, more events are to come....

2 Man Bobsleigh--crash...

The 2 man bobsleigh…

Ever imagine the best sledding hill in the world? I remember starting at the top of the hill I lived on, (which had maybe a 4% grade at best) running with my Yankee clipper and jumping on it to see how far we could go on those few occasions it snowed enough to sled on our little hill. My brothers could make it past the Emery’s house. I could make it just to their house. I always wanted to go as far as they did, but didn’t quite make it. But, making it TO the Emery’s house was respectable enough, but the thought sometimes lingered why they could make it, and I couldn‘t. Now, I know. It is in the sprint and the efficiency of getting onto the sled that matters much. The line also counts.

Now, 40 years later, I watch the top of the two man bobsleigh where burly men in tight suits (and some of them with “guts” of the belly kind) sprint as hard as the can, and jump into a bobsleigh that has very little resemblance to the Yankee Clipper except for the runners on the bottom. The bobsleigh is a blast!

When I got to work on Saturday, there was very little going on in my work area. Elianor and I walked the track and watched the forerunners go. I called and checked in with Nate and Rod, and the lines were so long, that they were having difficulty getting into the venue.

When Elianor and I got back to our work space, we found out that the event services department were challenged with “herding” people into the venue. They were asking for help, so I went out to help line people up and to help with the efficiency of getting people in.

So, I went outside and could see the line of people across the ski area and wrapped around to the gondola, which is a very hefty line. My role was to direct people through the line and prepare them for going through the scanner. Despite the crowds, security must maintain their standards, and it takes time to do this.

I found a place to stand and started directing,

“Those of you with no bags or small bags to the left, large bags to the middle. People who need help, please go to the right. Please remove all metal items and place them in sight”.

This command and hand directions were repeated over and over again.

A man came up to me and shook my hand and said, “Thank you so much for your help. These games have been so good because of people just like you. I can’t thank you enough. The volunteers have made the games. I don’t know what we would have done without you.” the man gushed. He kept holding my hand, and I think it was because he was off balance from visiting the pub prior to getting on the gondola to come up the hill. At least he was a nice imbiber. He finally let go of my hand when I had to direct the next group through. This is the games…..happy all the time, even when too many cups have been consumed.

I heard a statistic that more alcohol has been consumed here than in both former winter Olympics combined. I don’t know if this was a goal set by VANOC. Of course, the 2002 games were in Salt Lake City, where very little alcohol is consumed, but regardless, it is not a statistic to be proud of (unless you are a brewery CEO) On Saturday night, the liquor stores were mandated to shut down early, at 7:00 in an effort to decrease bad behavior by those drinking too much. I have to say, that I haven’t seen any bad behavior by the crowds at Whistler. In fact, Rod and Nate and I were making comments about how much nicer the atmosphere is up here from before because it seems the crowds are family, athlete and mellow. There are times when we have been up for college week, and have not been able to sleep because of the numerous parties going on. I like this better.

While directing people into the venue, I hear my name. “Hey, Nancy Riley….” I look up and Rod and Nate are just coming into the venue. They are 1 hour late. Thankfully, there is a break and many more bobsleighs to come, so they will still get “action”. We say hello, I direct them in, and they disappear into the swarm of people.

It is time for me to stop my work because now the lines are nearly finished and the my check in station is starting to get busy.

Kate, my manager is there and is funny as ever. Elianor has a book that her husband wrote for the Olympics. It is a childrens book about a moose and a goose who ride the hydrogen bus to the games where a rooster flies on skis and other animals participate in other activities. The book is darling and Elianor asks me to sign the book. She wants autographs from all of us working together so she has this as a souvenir. She is such a nice person that I wish I lived closer to her.

The night becomes quiet, and Kate says, why don’t you take the rest of the night off and go visit your family in the venue. I say my goodbyes, and hopon the accredited shuttle to the top of the venue. The plan is for me to start at the top of the venue and meet Rod and Nate somewhere on my way down, and their way up.

I get to the top just in time to see a live bobsleigh start. The German team is starting. The first glimpse I get of them is just their bulging calves. These men have muscles on top of muscles, and their calves are at exactly at my eye level since I’m on a stage a bit below them. I think this is why I never got to past the Emery’s house on my Yankee Clipper. My calves never have looked like that.

I watch one more bobsleigh start, and head down the hill. Rod and Nate are just beyond the start. We meet up and start our walk down together. The loudspeaker overhead announces the next run. We get to a curve and prepare to take pictures. This is not an easy feat. Up until now, I am less than 50% in actually catching a luge or skeleton in the frame after shooting. I hope to increase my percentage, and think of a plan to catch them. I mark a spot on the track well ahead of where they are and decide to pull the trigger before they get near me. When the luge or skeleton sleighs are coming, they cannot be heard that well. When a bobsleigh comes down the hill, you can hear them coming before they get to you. This is a good thing because it makes setting up the camera a bit easier. I look at my mark on the track, listen for the announcer, and can then hear the sleigh coming. Ready, watch…..watch…watch….I see the sleigh out of the corner of my eye. I am ready, the sleigh hit’s the mark and “click” I shoot the picture. I look down at my camera as the sleigh flashes past me, and there, in the frame is a blurry picture of a bobsleigh. I DID IT! You can’t tell what it is, but it is in the frame!! Woo Hoo….success!

We walk down and watch a bobsleigh at each curve. It is amazing how fast they go, and remarkable about how near we are to the track. Each discipline is a bit different and exciting to watch in it’s own way.

We get to the bottom and Rod and Nate tell me about a bobsleigh that goes through about 3 curves, rolls over, and they slide on their sides and backs down the entire track before I had come to a stop on the way back up the hill after the finish. At the bottom, there are men and women with hooks to grab the sleighs as they start their way back uphill to the finishing stage and where the sleighs are pulled out. This sleigh was the Australia 2. They tell me that now, whenever they make a really awful mistake somehow, they are going to call it an Australia 2.

When we are at the finishing area after the finish line, there is another crash. This time it is the Canada bobsleigh with Pierre Lueder on board. This is the man with whom Lueder’s loop is named. The sleigh comes ripping around curve 16 and starts up the hill bumping around from it’s side to it’s back. Nate and I are standing near where the sleigh stops and where the crew with the hooks stop the sleigh, and where the medical team converge immediately. The Canadian coach is the third group on scene. Lueder and his brake man get out of the sleigh, unharmed, at least physically, and the crowd cheers. We found out later that he decides to pull out of the rest of the 2 man bobsleigh, to save himself for the 4 man bobsleigh where he is a medal contender.

The event is over, and we decide to not take the gondola because there are so many people in line, and decide to walk down the snowy path to the village. It is a challenging walk because the snow is like sugar crystals and deep and there are places where it is steep. I have come down this run numerous times on skis, and I like it better with skis.

At the end of the day, we go to Black’s Pub for dinner, but sit and don’t get served, so we leave, and go to the old standby, The Old Spaghetti Factory, and have a late dinner. I was so tired, that I spilled my drink twice. Each time we laughed with the punchy laugh that comes out when one is really too exhausted to contain oneself. Rod and Nate were so happy they had gone to the venue, and I was so happy we were able to spend the time together. I only wish that my daughter, Tia, could have come up. She doesn’t have a passport, yet, and can’t take time off of work. I miss her.

We were tired enough, that for the first time, we took the bus back to our bus stop, 3 blocks from the house. It seems right after hiking all over the super G venue, walking to work, walking all over the village, and walking all over the sliding centre. But I like this kind of tired…..it is very satisfying.

Women's Super G and hiking

Saturday morning, we hop in the truck, and hightail it down to Creekside to see if there are any tickets left for the women’s super G. There were tickets left, for a significant fee, and I paid for Rod, Nate and I to watch the super G today. We purchased grandstand tickets. The other option was to purchase standing tickets, which are more near the finish area, but if you were halfway back there really wouldn’t be any way for me to see over all of the waving flags, large hats, etc.

We drive back up to the trailer, grab breakfast and Nate, and walk to the bus.

Getting to an event is time consuming. The way to do it is to first of all, find the right bus stop with a bus going to the place you want to go. Check. Catch the bus next to the Cascade Lodge and take either the 1, the 10 or the 20. They are relatively well marked. Upon entering the bus, you must show either your tickets to an event (then your bus fare is free), show your credentials (free again), or if you have neither of those, you pay $2.00 to ride.

When you get onto the bus, you may be either seated, or standing. Either way, you will likely be in physical contact with someone, and likely someone who isn’t speaking English. This part I like. The atmosphere on the bus is happy and exciting. People are excited to go see more international athletes make a go of it on behalf of their country. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced so many days of people around who are all in good spirits. There are very few cranky people around.

We got off the bus in a residential area, and walked downhill to the entry of the venue which was about ¼ of a mile. The next step was security. Before you show your tickets, there is a “mag and bag” team ready to scan you. Nate and I go through, and wait. They have detained Rod, and he is getting “the wand” His jacket has metal buttons on it, and the machine beeps every time the “wand” encounters one. His watch also creates more beeping. Rod patiently waited while being scanned, and after scanning and rescanning all of him, they free him up and say, “have a nice time”. But, Rod was not unhappy, and I haven’t seen others be unhappy either about this. It is my sense that no one wants a security crisis, or anyone to get through with a weapon of any kind…so this is okay.

More walking downhill on a gravel path. This venue is not for wheelchairs or for anyone with a heart condition, or with bad arthritis. It is hilly and graveling, and we find ourselves having to walk very carefully as to not slide and fall. There is also ice on the gravel which compounds traction issues. We make it down the hill to where our tickets are scanned. Here at the Olympics, they do not take your ticket. They merely scan it, and it becomes a keepsake to put someplace special. I’m glad they do this. The ticket is intact and placed safely until we get home.

The next step after scanning is to get into another line to get onto the chairlift that was designed to move people during the Olympics, up to the grandstands and finish area. Running parallel is the gondola the athletes and coaches are riding. We peek in the windows of the gondola and see athletes in there but don’t recognize the faces. Their Super G skis are loaded on the outside so you can see what they are skiing on, but not who is skiing on them. We ride the chairlift with a man who has an Olympic Team USA coat, who is very friendly and excited about all that is happening with the US Ski Team during these Olympics.

At the top, you get off the chairlift. For a second, I forget that I am NOT on skis, and put my feet down as if there were skis on them…but immediately realize I have hiking boots on and it is not a good mix….so I quickly take a bunch of steps to clear the chairlift, and hope no one sees this little problem. I was actually pleased that I didn’t crash. That would have been very embarrassing.

We get off the chairlift, and have to hike a bit more to the grandstand. There is a food and beverage stand, and a retail store to lighten your wallet, and we walk right past to get to our seats. It is really cold out since the sun has not come over the mountains, yet. We have triple layers on, hats and eventually buy cocoa and coffee to warm our insides until the sun comes out and we can see it coming over the hill. Right before the beginning of the race, the sun comes up over the hill, and it feels like the warmth of it instantly thaws the freezing temperatures. It feels great, and it isn’t long before the hats come off, and the sunglasses on.

It is time for the race to begin.

Julia Mancuso is the first one out of the gate and the crowd cheers. There are people cheering for Julia, and people cheering because it is the beginning of the Super G. In this race, there is only one run. It is do or die. Everything is riding on this one moment time that lasts slightly more than a minute. Years of training, the early mornings, the gates, the coaches giving feedback, the giving up of personal time, to spent a little more than a minute of your time trying to be the best. The US Olympians have the mental toughness it takes this year, to pull it together in one place and be in the moment. Julia rips down the hill. Her run looks tight and fluid. However, when she gets to a place called the frogbank, she goes really wide on the turn, which really scrubs time, and it is a place that someone else is likely to tighten up in later runs. There is very little margin for error.

At the venue, you can watch the big screen and hear announcers in French and in English. I listen to see if I can understand anything the French announcer is saying since I took high school French. Every once in a while I understand a word or two, but am happier when the English announcer takes over. It’s actually quite fun to hear the way the transition back and forth from English to French and back.

About 9 gates from the finish, you can see the skier coming down the hill and can transition your eyes from the big screen to the racer in person and follow their course down the rest of the hill. The last three gates are fairly straightforward and the racer is in a tuck for the last 3. They haul over the finish line and turn sideways just in time to not hit the wall in the finish area. Instantaneously, a camera man comes to the racer and there is a close up shot shown on the big screen so you can see the expression of the racer right when they are finished. I have wondered if that would be a good thing if you had just finished a less than stellar performance, and suddenly a camera is taping your reactions. I suppose the teams are coached on how to manage this camera frenzy.

Julia Mancuso comes through the finish and seems pleased about her performance and waves to the crowd, who all wave back, including me. We are exactly in the center of the grandstands and have a great view.

Racer after racer come down the hill, and Julia’s time holds up, until it is Lindsey Vonn’s turn. They have been in this place before. It must be familiar territory for them. The announcer states that Julia has radioed to the top of the hill to give a course report on what to look for.

The cheers go up when Lindsey is in the gate, cowbells start ringing, and she takes off down the course. She looks like her normal compact efficient self. When she gets to the frogbank, she takes a tighter line than Julia, so we knew that if Lindsey maintained a clean run to the end, that she would take over the lead, which she does. Lindsey comes down, waves at the crowd and exits to see her teammate Julia, and they embrace each other in the leader’s area. People love Lindsey around here, whether from the US or not.

The Canadians, Emily Brydon and Shona Rubens do not finish. The other Canadians in this race, Britt Janyk and Georgia Simmerling finish, but not where they would like. Because I have been working and spending a lot of time with Canadians, I have also been following their athletes more than I would have ordinarily. I like my Canadian friends, and see their excitement over their athletes, as we are about ours, and it is contagious. I find myself cheering vigorously for their alpine racers, too, since now I know some of their stories.

Britt Janyk grew up within walking distance from Whistler Creekside. She is a home grown girl who is part of Whistler. This is her mountain. I spoke to a man at the Laundromat who was her and her brother’s ski instructor when they were little. I told him that he must have done a pretty good job of teaching her because look where she ended up. In all of his humbleness, he said it had nothing to do with him, and it was really all about her. She was special from the start. It has been so much fun to strike up conversations with people in the village. There is a friendliness like no other place I have seen. Wherever you go, people talk openly and happily. Another friend of mine who volunteered at the Salt Lake Games in 2002 stated that there is something in the air around the Olympics where everyone is happy. I certainly have drank the tonic.

Back to the Super G. Lindsey is in first place, and Andrea Fischbacher comes down the hill, knocking Lindsey out of first place. In the meantime, Maria Reisch and Elizabeth Goergl knock Julia off of the podium. It is unlucky that Julia had the first draw because people learned a lot by what her run looked like. It’s a bummer to be first.

Tina Maze from Slovakia comes down. She has a beautiful speed suit on. She comes ripping down the course and bumps Lindsey down one more position. But that would be all. No one else would challenge the top three, and Lindsey comes out with one more medal, a bronze for third place, for her efforts and Julia leaves with a very respectable finish time despite being the “educator” on the hill that day.

Leaving the grandstands is a bit tricky, you can take the chairlift back down, where the line is really long, and I have to go to work after this, or you can walk down. Rod, Nate and I decide to walk down. It is a long and steep walk on gravel. The VANOC (Vancouver Olympic Committee) know that it is a tough walk because they have a first aid station halfway down the hill, in case anyone crashes on their way down. I think this is strategically placed and hope I don’t need their services. There are people who actually climbed up the hill to the venue this morning. It is a 20-30 minute hike uphill, and this first aid station is strategically placed for issues of the heart or respiratory sort as well. VANOC has thought this through pretty well.

When we get to the bottom of the hill, there is a ticket booth where Rod buys tickets to the 2 man bobsleigh for he and Nate. I’m excited about that because they will be coming to my venue. I haven’t seen the bobsleigh yet, but am excited to see it and pleased that the boys will be able to see it too.

Cowbells and the I-Phone

Friday is laundry day. Pretty mundane, huh? But highly necessary. It would be great to have a place to launder clothes right here in my little home. But I don’t. I have to get into my car, which hasn’t been driven in a week, and hope it starts. And luckily it does.

The Laundromat is located north at an RV park called Riverside. I unload all of my gear, and what do you know, there is a TV with the men’s super G on. This is great. I can wash my clothes AND watch more alpine skiing. Do I ever tire of watching downhill racing? No. Definitely not. I really haven’t done much skiing since I’ve gotten here, which is not what I had planned, but I can ski anytime. I can’t always take in all of the cultural and interesting things the Olympic brings, so I chose to hang around the village more, and the ski slopes, less. Today was Bode’s day to win bronze. What a treat to watch him haul down the hill.

While at work today, my manager, Kate, who is funny and creative and whom I love working with shows me an application on her I-Phone. You can pull up a cowbell, put your country’s flag on it and then shake your phone back and forth, and it rings like a cowbell. There are cowbells all over the village. There are big ones, so large that a good sized man can barely wrap his arms around it to carry. There are little ones on pins, there are cowbells to go around your waist, your neck or your wrist. They are every shape and size cowbells and now there is an application for your I-Phone. I have a blackberry, and for the first time have some remorse. This is the most interesting thing that happens at work today, except for watching Evan Lysacek win the gold (which is pretty darn nice).

Today is a great day. Rod and my son, Nate, are coming for a couple of days. After I worked I walked back to the trailer, and within 20 minutes, I hear, “Hi Mom” from outside the trailer. I poke my head out, and sure enough, there they are with all of their gear…..I’ll say this again….All of their gear. This is a small space. It is unknown where all of it is going to fit! But I’m so happy to see them that it really doesn’t matter how much gear there is. We’ll find a way to make it work.

We set off to the village and decide to have dinner at Earls. It is Friday night in the village and it is packed. We are seated fairly quickly right in front of another TV where highlights are being played. We sit next to a man we discover is from Germany. He speaks very good English. I had told Nate about the cowbell application, and he was working on downloading it. He and the German man strike up a conversation, and he wants to know about the cowbell. Since he just has an I-Pod, it is uncertain if he can download it, but within a few minutes, he has it on his phone and is ringing it in his ear with a big smile on his face. It’s the special moments like this that link us across the oceans. We all laughed at such a silly invention, that brings such laughter.

On the way back to the trailer, we stop to see if there are any tickets left for women’s super G in the morning, but they are sold out. The woman in the booth said that we could show up 3 hours before the race, and they may have some tickets left, so we make a plan to go down to Creekside in the morning to see if we can see the Super G.

It has been gorgeous at night and this evening walking home was no exception. It was nice to share my walk with Rod and Nate.