Finding Your Winter

A Simple Idea

The inspiration for Y She Skis began with a simple observation.

In 2021, after taking her first cross-country ski lesson, YMCA team member Jennifer Northrup found herself surrounded by women who were curious about the sport but unsure how to begin. Again and again, she heard the same thing: they wanted to learn, but they also wanted community.

“I work at the Y,” Northrup remembers thinking. “I wish I could do something.”

Eventually, that idea evolved into Y She Skis.

The first retreat launched at Camp Ihduhapi in 2024, welcoming more than 50 women despite a winter with very little snow. Over the next two years, Northrup continued refining the experience, adding yoga, crafts, wellness activities, and intentional opportunities for connection.

Then the retreat moved to Camp du Nord.

“That’s when the vision really came alive,” Northrup says.

Nestled among towering pines on the shores of Burntside Lake, Camp du Nord seemed to offer the perfect setting. Fresh snow blanketed the landscape. Endless trails wound through the forest.

Beginners practiced on the frozen lake while more experienced skiers explored miles of groomed terrain.

“There was just something magical about being there,” Northrup says. “Everything came together.”

That sense of welcome remains at the heart of the retreat.

“You belong here no matter your experience level,” she says. “Whether you’ve never been on skis or you’ve been skiing for years, we’ll make sure you’re supported every step of the way.”

Permission to Slow Down

For many participants, skiing turns out to be only part of the experience.

Michele Maiers describes the weekend as deeply restorative.

“The word ‘transformative’ gets tossed around a lot,” she says, “but this truly was grounding.”

Months later, she still returns to the feeling she experienced during the retreat.

"I can stop for just a moment, think about being there, and my shoulders drop. My breathing slows. I remember the peace, the beautiful surroundings, and this incredible community."

“I can stop for just a moment, think about being there, and my shoulders drop. My breathing slows. I remember the peace, the beautiful surroundings, and this incredible community.”

What surprised her most was how quickly strangers became friends.

“There was an instant feeling of community. Everyone wanted to share. Their excitement was contagious. Right away, I knew I was in the right place with the right people.”

She laughs when remembering her expectations of camp, sharing, “I was picturing rustic cabins from an old summer camp movie.”

Instead, she found cozy gathering spaces, fireplaces, comfortable accommodations, and views that stretched across snow-covered wilderness.

“I walked into the main lodge with the fire roaring and thought, ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ It was absolutely beautiful.”

But the scenery wasn’t what stayed with her.

“It renewed my desire to be part of a community,” she says. “Everyone was there for their own health and wellbeing. In today’s world, that feels more important than ever.”

Permission to Be a Beginner

For Rachel Jasion, the retreat offered something even more unexpected.

“The equipment was there. The instructors were there. The food was taken care of,” she says. “For once, I didn’t have to be the mom.”

Instead, she had permission to simply enjoy herself.

“I got to be a beginner,” she says. “As we get older, there are fewer opportunities to admit we don’t know what we’re doing.”

She laughs, remembering the inevitable falls.

“I fell down. I got back up. It was freeing.”

Between lessons, she found herself skiing through forests sparkling with fresh snow and sunlight.

“It felt like I was learning to ski in one of the most beautiful places in the world.”

And afterward, there was always a warm lodge waiting.

“You can be as adventurous as you want,” Rachel says. “Or you can curl up with a book. There’s no expectation. You simply get to be whoever you are in that moment.”

"As we get older, there are fewer opportunities to admit we don’t know what we’re doing."

Permission to Show Up As You Are

For Tiffany Nagle, attending alone felt like a leap of faith.

Now it’s one of the first things she recommends.

“I went by myself because it’s what I needed,” she says.

Within hours, she found herself surrounded by new friends.

“The world doesn’t always feel welcoming, but this place does.”

She hopes other women won’t let the idea of coming alone stop them from attending.

“It’s totally okay to come by yourself. No one judges your age or your ability. Everyone is welcoming.”

That sentiment resonates with Fay Nosow, who believes women often spend so much time caring for others that they forget to create space for themselves.

“We send our kids to camp,” she says. “But we don’t always give ourselves permission to go.”

Throughout the weekend, she watched women laughing together, sharing stories, encouraging one another, and rediscovering the joy of simply being present.

“It replenishes your soul,” she says. “You leave remembering that you deserve time for yourself, too.”

More Than a Ski Retreat

While cross-country skiing remains at the center of Y She Skis, the experience has become about much more than that.

It’s about embracing winter rather than merely tolerating it.

It’s about trying something new without fear of failure.

It’s about rediscovering confidence, curiosity, and joy.

Most of all, it’s about finding community in unexpected places.

As the weekend comes to a close, skis are loaded into cars, hugs are exchanged, and the quiet of Camp du Nord begins to settle back over the snow-covered landscape.

The women leave with stronger ski skills, certainly. But what many carry home is something less tangible and far more valuable.

A reminder that they can still be beginners.

That they can still seek adventure.

That community can form in a matter of hours.

And that making space for themselves is not selfish; it is necessary.

Winter, it turns out, isn’t something to endure.

It’s something to step into. Together.

They carried it home in tangible ways, too — photos, a shared group journal, individual journals, and a few rocks and bones