Skijoring at 10,000ft
When Leadville becomes a double-exposed photograph of modern day and the old Wild West.
Every year, for one weekend in the winter, the town of Leadville closes its main road, covers it in snow and dares people to race their horses as fast as possible down a track with a skier in tow.
Having missed the Leadville skijoring weekend in 2023 by eight days because of a mix-up on my visa, I was looking forward to finally making it to Leadville’s Skijoring weekend.
Leadville, like many of the other small towns in the mountains in this part of Colorado, was an old mining town. The area is dotted with small towns that sprang up in the gold rush. There’s gold in them there hills; silver, copper and lead too.
The town, first settled in 1859, still retains many of its original features and buildings. Black iron street lamps line the main street, Harrison Avenue, and old saloons sell beer only by the bottle over wooden bars that have most likely been unchanged since prospectors propped them up. On the weekend of skijoring, the old iron street lamps become flag poles with huge American flags raised on each all the way down the Harrison Avenue. Crowds filled the sidewalks and tannoys filled the air with commentary, amped up music and periodic cries of God bless America.
Skijoring in Leadville started 76 years ago in 1949 but has evolved from a tradition that is thought to be hundreds of years old. The name skijoring , as you might have guessed, is Scandinavian and means ‘ski driving’, originating from a practice where people towed themselves long distances on wooden skis behind a reindeer.
These days it’s less ‘ski-driving’ and more ski obstacle course racing: gripping a rope attached to a galloping horse, skiers must navigate the course weaving between and over snow ramps, using their arms as a lance to collect suspended hoops. Crashes are common with occasionally the skier, rider and horse all hitting the ice hard deck.
If you take the time to wander the back roads during the festival you’ll find the horses and riders gathered awaiting their turn. Stetsons, chaps and probably more than one concealed revolver make it easy to imagine that you’re back in the Wild West of the early days of Leadville. They wait in the wings for their turn, chatting and prepping their horses. As they race their horses down the Harrison Avenue their faces range from elation to stony faced determination.
So what brought skijoring to a mining town 10,158 feet up in the mountains? The story goes that two friends, Tom Schroeder and “Mugs” Ossman were looking for a new activity to bring to the winter festival in Leadville and stumbled across skijoring on a visit to the town of Steamboat. The version they stumbled across was closer to ski-driving and being young men looking for excitement, they decided to spice it up a bit. This was pre-ski resorts so being towed behind a galloping horse was a much more accessible thrill than slogging up the mountain all day with your skis for one run down.
Watching from the sidelines, I’d say that thrill still trumps downhill skiing. I got a pretty big kick as just a bystander. You can feel the speed and power of the horses as their hooves pound the snow, kicking up a spray behind them, their breath heavy and visible on the cold high-altitude air.
