Klaebo Leads Six-Deep Norwegian Sweep in Engadin 20 k Mass Start

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We feel like we know what World Cup skiing looks like—then FIS schedules a Mass Start race that begins in St. Moritz, and we watch a pack of racers V2-Alternate across the opening kilometers of a dead-flat landscape. It looked a bit like old days at the American Birkebeiner on occasions when that race started on the frozen Lake Hayward. In St. Moritz, so little action was expected in the early kilometers of racing that FIS did not even provide a time-check until the 6.5 kilometer mark, at which point the field was still bunched together. They remained mostly together until the final kilometers where Norway re-exerted its dominance, taking the top seven spots.

Johannes Hoesflot Klaebo out-dueled a lead pack of his countrymen to claim the victory. He was followed across the line by his countrymen, Iver Tildheim Andersen and Didrik Toenseth.

Zak Ketterson was the top American, finishing 30th. Behind him, Zanden McMullen was 32nd, Hunter Wonders 44th, Gus Schumacher 49th,  Walker Hall 51st, and Luke Jager 65th.

Among Canadians, Thomas Stephen was 22nd, Olivier Leveille 25th, Sasha Masson 28th, Remi Drolet 35th.

20 k Mass Start

Six inches of new snow fell overnight, covering Engadin in a soft blanket of white. Course workers worked to clear new snow from the course right up until start time, though the race seemed likely to be affected by softer-than-normal conditions. Engadin’s Mass Start course is a point-to-point tour—a 9 kilometer section starting on the frozen lake surface at the nearby Olympic Village of St. Moritz, followed by three 3.7 kilometer laps around Engadin. Things definitely were not off to a fast start . . .

A V2 Alternate stroke is one that’s efficiently employed by skilled recreationalists and age-group racers as they happily traverse flatter sections of terrain. For World Cup competitors, though, it’s simply an indication that not much is happening. The course is just too flat, so they’ll mark time until the track tilts up and things begin to happen. The only other time World Cup viewers see a race look like this is in the opening kilometers of the Alpe Cermis stage at the Tour de Ski. Even then, not much really happens until the six kilometer mark when the climbing begins. Don’t be misled: the racers in the 20 k Mass Start in Engadin were flying. It’s just that they were all flying at a pace that was fairly sustainable . . . for them, anyway.

Predictably, it was at 6.5 kilometers (the first time check) where the accelerations began. Under the shadow of Engadin’s landmark castle—and with hills on the race course just ahead of them—the contenders began to take things more seriously. Andersen moved to the front and pushed the pace, stringing the field out behind him. The new pace revealed that the slower early kilometers had allowed a re-shuffling of the original start positions. The front of the field was now populated by numerous Austrian, Swiss, Czech, and French race suits, including that of Victor Lavera (FRA) who moved forward to push the pace.

By this point in the racing—with high-stress challenges having only just begun—American racers were already dangling and in danger of being dropped. While Ketterson maintained his position in the top 20, other Americans appeared to be struggling. Gus Schumacher was only recently returned from a trip back to Alaska where he recuperated from recent illness. He, in particular, appeared slow to re-adjust to the pace of a World Cup field.

Whenever the pace was not to his liking, Klaebo moved to the front. Sometimes just to measure the pace, other times to slow things down. Either way, Klaebo was taking charge of the race, and the rest of the field was letting him do it. If the brazenly outspoken Swede, Edvin Anger, had intended to assert himself in this race, he wasn’t showing it yet . . . but a yet-to-be-dropped sprinter is always a dangerous racer. Norway was likely to keep the pace high enough to keep Anger in his place.

There were bonus points available at 15.8 kilometers, though none of the racers noticed it much. Klaebo happened to be at the front when they crossed the line, but there was no sprint to challenge him. Everyone seemed silently to acknowledge that it was only the finish line that mattered today, and they’d sort that out in the kilometers to come.

With three kilometers to go, Toenseth drove to the front to animate the long drive to the finish line. He was shadowed by Klaebo and Andersen, and that trio began to distance itself a bit from the lead group. On-air commentators continued to suggest that there was some sort of “Norwegian plan” to work together and establish breakaways. From the appearance of things on the race course, though, it seemed more likely that the Norwegians were simply better skiers possessed of better skis; they gravitated to the front as the pace ratcheted up, accompanied by a few game Frenchmen (Jules Lapierre, Clement Parisse, and Hugo Lapalus) who appear determined to insert their team into actions typically dominated by Norway.

Time and time again, Klaebo has established himself as the formeost sprinter in the sport of cross country skiing. Really, the only hope for Andersen and Toenseth was that Klaebo might be exhausted from winning yesterday’s sprints (not unthinkable—Sprints are indeed a long and exhausting day) so that they could drop him before the finish line. The distance-guy’s job is to drop the sprinter. The sprinter’s job is to sit in and sprint. That’s just the law of the jungle. Sometimes it goes one way; sometimes, it goes the other. Regardless, the members of the now-breakaway group (Andersen, Toenseth, and Klaebo) were definitely not working together to maintain an advantage over the field—they could care less about those other guys. Andersen was trying to shake Klaebo, Klaebo was trying to hang on, and Toenseth was hoping to pluck the win if the other two beat each other up sufficiently. Law of the jungle, indeed . . .

But how do you beat the fastest guy skiing on the fastest skis? In the end, Klaebo—the best sprinter—didn’t even need to sprint. He simply glided past Andersen on the final downhill slope, and eased his way across the finish line. It’s not that Klaebo’s skis are motorized or voo-dooed or somehow magically endowed. Sure, Fischer has a vested interest in making sure Klaebo receives the very fastest skis that roll off the assembly line, but it’s Klaebo’s own innate sense of the sensitive millimeters where edges and bases meet the snow that allows him consistently to pull more speed out of his skis. In Engadin, he did it again—making it look easy, making it look a bit unfair—and all Andersen and Toenseth could do was tuck and watch.

There will certainly be more World Cup days to come when the field will find Klaebo flat, when the distance will find Klaebo exhausted or ill, when the snow will find Klaebo’s wax to be less than perfect. But right now Klaebo reigns supreme. Everyone else is left to circle days on the World Championship calendar in the hope that Klaebo’s current peak won’t extend quite that far. Klaebo is imminently beatable; his rivals just need to be ready on the day that his vulnerability floats to the surface.

Engadin 20 k Mass Start RESULTS