From Craftsbury to Finland
Written by GRP Biathlete Jake Brown
Our team with new Maloja jackets and gear
Some time ago now I left the hamlet of Craftsbury for a winter of international racing in a global pandemic. There was uncertainty: would I not make the team and only be gone for 2 weeks, would I make the team and be gone for 5 months, or would I be gone for 2 months before the virus forces us to retreat? There was anxiety: would I be able to manage the isolation of being in a 2-athlete “pod”, would my vigilance in taking preventative measures toward Covid-19 wane over time, and how would I race amid the heightened pressure, stress, and isolation? Yet there was also hope: could I convince myself to embrace new challenges as opportunities, would a leap outside my comfort zone lead to growth, and might a new training and living environment lead to a positive change in perspective?
My US teammate Paul and I traveling in style. We’ll see how long this lasts before we choose comfort over professionalism.
On November 8th my Green Racing Project teammate Caitlin Patterson dropped me off at the Burlington airport. Carrying my thoughts, a rifle, a ski bag, and a backpack (all strategically overweight and bursting at the seams), I left Caitlin’s Prius and the GRP “Pact” bubble at the curb and walked through the airport sliding doors armed with mask and face shield. I could barely see. Later, in the Dulles airport, I realized that my face shield came with a removable plastic film, but at the time I thought that visual impairment was merely the price of PPE. In BTV I quickly realized that the airport was nearly empty, and I took off my face shield.
Check-in agents worst nightmare: a biathlon team
At first thought, traveling in the midst of a pandemic appears wild, stressful, and frustrating. But, to be honest, my travel from BTV to Vuokatti, Finland was one of the least stressful travel experiences of my life (long and tiring- yes, stressful – no). …With the exception of Dulles’ domestic terminal. Dulles was packed! That’s when I pulled out the Face Shield. Thankfully we lost the crowds in the international terminal and boarded a near-empty flight to Frankfurt. I had a full row to myself and was able to stretch out my legs as I made an attempt at sleep. I started to nod off, letting myself drift into unconsciousness, when I was struck by a feeling of suffocation. My eyes burst open and my lungs commanded a deep inhale. Ok, that was weird. After a few forced, deep breaths, I shuffled my shoulders back into a comfortable position and began to drift off… wham! I again was struck by the same primordial awakening and my lungs filled as I imagine they would had I breached Big Hosmer’s surface after a milfoil dive. This pattern repeated, again and again, until I gave up sleep, turned on my monitor, and let my heart rate soar with the excitement of Ford vs. Ferrari.
All-day sunrise/sunset in Vuokatti
Sleep would have to wait until we arrived in our apartment in Vuokatti and I could take off my mask. After well over twenty-four hours of travel, we made it. It felt good to take off the mask and unpack, but it felt even better to sleep. It was a top-10 sleep for sure; I was dead to the world, wire-to-wire.
Finland is dark in the winter but has great lighting for both trails... and biathlon range
Thankfully for us, Finland has had very low incidence of Covid-19 infection. On the flip side, however, this meant that we were the ones posing a great risk to Finland and the Finnish people by traveling straight into their low-risk community. Vuokatti had been so safe (and, until now, largely spared from international contact) that people weren’t wearing masks- not even in grocery stores, despite, I trust, the Finnish people’s respect for the gravity of the international situation. The Finnish government requests a negative Covid-19 PCR test taken within three days prior to travel into Finland. We had all gotten our pre-travel test but not necessarily our results by the time we passed through Finnish customs in Helsinki. Surprisingly, no one was asked to give proof of a test. Upon arrival in Vuokatti, we were to undergo a 3-day quarantine before taking a post-travel Covid-19 test. Surprisingly (again), we found ourselves sharing hallways with other guests and teams who were all eating in one large common area and gathering their food from a buffet, all while totally unmasked. This cavalier approach was even more surprising to us when we heard that both members of the Ukranian and Belgian teams, who had been skiing on the same tracks and sharing the same stairwells as us, tested positive upon their arrival.
Quarantine strength in the hotel hallway in Vuokatti.
That’s not to say there weren’t safety measures taken- in the past 2.5 weeks I’ve taken 5 Covid tests, for example, athletes who tested positive had to quarantine until they provided a negative test, and all teams had to eat in separate rooms before their quarantine periods were over (and a few, including our team and team Japan, opted to eat separately for the full stay) - but coming from Craftsbury, I was surprised at the lack of Corona concern that many nations displayed. Hopefully our collective precautionary measures were enough to keep Covid-19 out of Vuokatti, and hopefully we witness higher standards of care on the World Cup. The IBU has published a zero-tolerance policy for not wearing masks (as well as frequent testing) and many teams are implementing similarly strict intra-team measures, so hopefully that will be enough to keep both us and the communities in which we travel free from Covid-contamination. Of course there is always risk, but at least at the present moment the fiscal incentive for the IBU to provide biathlon to television viewers outweighs at least the perceived risk. Only time will tell if all of this is a good decision or not.
We were surprised to find no one wearing masks in Vuokatti. It was approximately when we arrived in Joensuu this past week when the Finnish prime minister made a mask recommendation. Now we are seeing many more masks, and full face shields on grocery store workers. Quite a change within one week and a two hour drive.
Our camp in Vuokatti was quite productive- it was a joy to get back on snow, and our group of six guys had a number of quality high-intensity sessions together. There’s something special about training with a group of Americans, wearing the US suit, in a foreign country. It gives me pride, not only to respresent my country, but also to play a role in pushing my teammates and making us better. The camp ended with a set of races contested by our team and the Bulgarians, Ukranians, and a handful of Finns. I was able to ski fast and hit most of my targets, enough anyway to make the US squad for the first World Cup of the year in Kontiolahti, Finland.
My roommate Max and I on the commute back to the hotel after training in Vuokatti. It’s always nice when you don’t have to get in a car for 2 weeks.
Traveling with the US team this year is our own RV, stocked with food and Bioteaque tea to warm up after training, since there aren’t as many available warm spaces this year.
Upon arrival in Kontiolahti, we had yet another Covid test, this one a throat swab. This made for my 5th test in two-and-a-half weeks time! And I’ll tell you what, the Finns don’t mess around when it comes to Covid testing. My first Covid test experience was in Littleton, NH back in September when I re-joined the Craftsbury GRP Pact after some weeks away. I had heard tales of the nasopharyngeal horror that was about to take place in my nose, brain, or wherever they stick that thing, but I merely experience a watery eye and an uncomfortable feeling in my nose. Fast-forward to my pre-travel-to-Finland test, when I went to Copley Hospital in Morrisville, NH. Man, they really stick that thing up into your brain there! Or so I thought, until our first test in Vuokatti. The nurse was decked out in full PPE, goggles, face-shield and all when she stuck a more malleable plastic swab deeper into my nose than I ever thought possible. And then she kept going! It was instinctual to pull away. When I started to, she calmly reminded my in her low Finnish accent to “Relax…” and went a little further, spinning the tip for what seemed like an eternity (I counted to 8… eternity is relative). The next two tests were the same, although my teammates have debated which of the three were the worst with varying claims. Some claim that you should alternate nostrils, since you don’t want the swab to re-open any damage a previous test caused. Others claim the opposite, that each successive swab kind of opens up the cavity to allow for swifter passage. Regardless, so far in my experience Vuokatti is the Covid-test-swab-distance champion.
Finland has these sweet appliances that look like refrigerators but are meant for drying clothes super fast!
Training in the 0.75km long ski tunnel on a rainy Thursday
Our team has some strict ruled in place to hopefully prevent the entire squad from getting sick if one of us were to get Covid independently. This includes wearing masks in the wax room, or anytime we are around anyone but our roommate.