Ogden’s multifaceted approach suggests that success in elite skiing doesn’t require single-minded focus on the sport alone, but rather the integration of diverse skills and interests.

by Compass Vermont

Vermont cross-country skier Ben Ogden won a silver medal in the men’s sprint classic at the 2026 Winter Olympics on February 10, finishing just 0.87 seconds behind Norway’s Johannes Høsflot Klæbo and ending a 50-year medal drought for American men in Nordic skiing.

But the 25-year-old from Landgrove represents something beyond a single race result—he’s a mechanical engineer who deconstructs saunas on laptops, a knitter who manages stress with needlework, and a backyard terrain park enthusiast whose gymnastic skills culminated in an Olympic podium flip.

The Race That Made History

At the Tesero Cross-Country Skiing Stadium in Val di Fiemme, Italy, Ogden completed the 1.5-kilometer sprint classic final in 3:40.61, more than six seconds ahead of the bronze medalist. The single-lap course featured a 23-meter maximum climb and 49 meters of total climbing, demanding explosive power and technical precision. Ogden’s path to the podium included a “lucky loser” advancement from the semifinals—a reminder that Olympic outcomes often hinge on razor-thin margins.

The last American man to medal in Olympic Nordic skiing was Bill Koch, who won silver in 1976. Ogden’s breakthrough came after a consistent rise through the ranks, including becoming the fastest male sprinter under 23 in the world in 2023, earning him the FIS Green Bib designation.

Engineering the Racecourse

Ogden earned a mechanical engineering degree from UVM in 2022 and pursued master’s-level credits while competing on the World Cup circuit. His engineering background isn’t just an academic footnote—he applies the same analytical framework he uses for CAD (Computer-Aided Design) software to analyze race courses, looking for “structure and flow” through technical terrain.

During long flights to European competitions, Ogden deconstructs complex timber-frame sauna designs and mechanical components on his laptop as a form of cognitive relief from the intensity of elite racing. He’s proficient in CAD modeling and welding, and has expressed a “pipe dream” of eventually working for Beta Technologies, the Vermont-based electric aviation company.

The engineering mindset appears to provide a competitive edge. While other racers might view a course purely through the lens of physical exertion, Ogden sees systems and patterns, breaking down complex terrain into solvable problems.

The Knitting King of Vermont

Between World Cup races, Ogden pulls out knitting needles. He’s created mittens inspired by Joan of Arc and sweaters for teammates, earning him the nickname “Knitting King of Vermont.” The practice isn’t a quirk—it’s sophisticated tension management for an athlete navigating the physiological stress of elite competition.

The rhythmic, focused nature of knitting provides a counterbalance to the explosive intensity of sprint racing. Where skiing demands anaerobic power and split-second tactical decisions, knitting offers low-intensity focus and repetitive motion. Ogden has described the practice as essential to maintaining mental equilibrium during the grinding World Cup season, where travel, competition, and recovery create relentless demands.

After winning his silver medal, Ogden told reporters, “My needles are waiting,” suggesting he’d return to knitting as part of his post-Olympic routine.

From Backyard Jumps to Olympic Backflips

When Ogden executed a backflip on the medal podium—handing his medal to Klæbo to hold during the rotation—he was fulfilling a promise he’d made to his 15-year-old self. The maneuver wasn’t spontaneous celebration but the culmination of years spent building backyard terrain parks in Landgrove and obsessively studying the acrobatic skiing of fellow Vermonter Andy Newell.

Newell, a four-time Olympian from Shaftsbury, pioneered Nordic “jibbing”—performing high-risk 720s and backflips on cross-country skis. Ogden consumed Newell’s videos “like candy” during adolescence, prioritizing jumping over traditional training. He and friends built jumps and rails in Landgrove, running 40 consecutive laps under floodlights in sessions that lasted five hours.

Those backyard experiments developed more than acrobatic skills—they built comfort with risk that translates directly to racing. The ability to remain calm in high-speed, chaotic sprint finals appears rooted in years of experience managing the physics and consequences of mid-air rotations. Analysts have noted that Ogden’s “playfulness” allows him to view Olympic pressure as a game rather than an ordeal.

The podium backflip came with added difficulty: Ogden was desperate for a bathroom. After consuming three bottles of water post-race and facing mandatory anti-doping testing, he executed the flip while internally distracted, losing his hat mid-air but landing successfully.

The Landgrove Legacy

Ogden’s roots in Landgrove—population 177—provide essential context for his development. His great-grandfather, Samuel Robinson Ogden, was central to the mid-20th-century “Repeopling of Vermont” movement, working to revitalize declining small towns through land preservation and fostering local ski industries. The family connection to place runs deep: Ogden’s mother, Andrea, works in the 1874 Farmers and Mechanics Hall that now serves as the town office.

Ogden trains with the Stratton Mountain School T2 elite training team, co-founded by Bill Koch—the same skier whose 1976 Olympic silver stood as the last American men’s medal until 2026. He continues to collaborate with UVM head coach Patrick Weaver, maintaining connections to the Burlington campus where he earned his degree.

The Complexity of Olympic Success

The post-medal experience revealed the less glamorous side of Olympic achievement. Anti-doping protocols required Ogden to sit in testing facilities while overhydrated and exhausted, a process he described as “miserable.” The delay prevented immediate celebration with family and teammates.

The subsequent media blitz—including Good Morning America appearances and a message deluge that buried important texts from his mother—forced an energy crash. U.S. coaches encouraged him to skip the subsequent 10-kilometer freestyle race to recover, acknowledging the physiological and emotional toll of a historic breakthrough.

What Happens Next

Ogden’s achievement is being interpreted as the start of broader American success in Nordic skiing. Teammates like Gus Schumacher and J.C. Schoonmaker have described the potential for an “onslaught” of American results. Ogden himself has said “success is contagious” on the U.S. team, supported by recent results including Schoonmaker’s 2023 World Cup podium.

The Milano Cortina Games introduced a new prototype of American Nordic athlete—one who brings mechanical engineering precision to race analysis, uses knitting for stress management, and applies backyard acrobatic skills to Olympic competition. Ogden’s multifaceted approach suggests that success in elite skiing doesn’t require single-minded focus on the sport alone, but rather the integration of diverse skills and interests that together create competitive advantage and mental resilience.

For a small Vermont town of 177 residents, the Olympic silver medal represents vindication of a multi-generational investment in community, sport, and the preservation of place. And for Ogden, it’s confirmation that you can be an engineer, a knitter, a gymnast, and an Olympic medalist—all at once.