There are plenty of people who do. Climbing up the muddy trail at 8:30 a.m. on Day 6 were thousands of people, carrying cowbells, wearing goofy hats, and waving flags -- mostly ones with crosses on them. Nordic sports are very popular in Nordic countries, and they're always dominated by nations like Norway, Sweden and Finland. Russia and its fellow former Soviet republics also represent very well, and Germany always fields a very good team.

To folks in North America, cross country skiing and biathlon are generally seen as too boring to watch, and that sets off a chain reaction: sponsorships aren't worth anything, which turns potential long-legged, big-lunged Nordic-type athletes towards other sports. So Canada and the United States always finish in the second division at the Olympics, when they qualify at all, so there are no heroes to inspire the next generation. There is no this generation.

I believe this snake-eat-tail mechanism exists simply because Nordic sports aren't presented correctly here, at least not the way that they are in Europe. It's not just a bunch of people skiing, it's your guy or girl against the others. That's the way most fans relate to the sport -- they have a favorite whose story they relate to, they treat them like friends or relatives in their minds, and they follow their every race. There are also clubs to follow, like Strindheim Idrettslag in Norway for example. (It's not unlike how American race fans have come to relate to NASCAR.) those clubs also, on occasion, sponsor football or basketball teams. When it comes to the Olympics, it's nation first. But everybody still has their favorite athlete and/or club.

This was that Nordic sprint event, a 1,400 meter loop around a wobbly oval course. The qualifying rounds were held in the morning, and 62 skiers ran in staggered-start progression. The only athlete from south of the equator, Oliver Kraas of South Africa, was second-to-last, almost 30 seconds behind, just ahead of a Latvian who fell.

In the second round, or the "brackets," skiers race in groups of six, with the top two qualifying for spots in the semifinals. The two next best times, the "lucky losers," round out the final 16. Two semifinals with the top two qualifying, and two more "lucky losers," sets up the final race. The LL's are flashed on the screen after each elimination round, and half the excitement comes from the drama of those who are just clinging to life. There are a lot of unlucky losers in Nordic events.

In the end, Norway's Marit Bjorgen won the women's event, setting off a blizzard of red, white and blue flags. On the men's side, Russia's Nikita Kriukov and Alexander Panzhinskiy went one-two. Or in other words, the Scandinavians felt the real power.

Getting to the biathlon stadium requires another endurance gear; you have to walk up another long path, another additional kilometer, up into the higher reaches of Whistler Olympic Park. On the morning of Day 7, I trudged further up the hill, a little late this time, and saw a preview of the competition in a clearing alongside the deep part of the course.

Biathlon is one of the most tragically misunderstood Winter Olympic sports on this side of the pond. It's athletics to a level beyond athletics, and places demands on competitors far beyond simple racing. Ski with a rifle strapped to your back, stop and shoot five tiny targets half a football pitch away, then repeat. In the case of the "middle distance" events (20 km for men, 15 km for women), it's four loops of the course. The body control required to slow down one's heart rate enough to hold a gun still is truly incredible. And the stop-start action forces the biathlete's body to produce massive amounts of sweat, gallons of it, and slightly more than curlers do.

Adding to the difficulty, biathletes don't get serene calm in which to shoot. When they line up in a lane, there's an entire grandstand behind them yelling out, "Ay!" at every hit target. And because there are 30 lanes, and many biathletes out on the course at the same time, attending a biathlon event means a lot of "Ay!"

The Norwegians and Russians and Swedes had already marked out their territory, and were screaming for their favorites. I took a spot near a German gent who carried around a large box attached to a stick; the box was a giant noisemaker that he'd swing around, creating a very loud rattling noise.

He didn't speak much English at all, which was a shame because I wanted to ask him about all the airport baggage stickers on the back of his noisemaker. Does a giant box cost more to fly with, or does he have to buy a seat for it? But it was clear by his shirt and the markings on his box that he was the Biathlon-Fan Rassel-Määän, obviously a legend. He rattled his box loudly for Michael Greis, triple gold medalist from Torino 2006 and defending Olympic champion in this middle-distance event.

But Greis is aging a bit, off his prime at 33. The loudest rattles came for Alexander Wolf, a German with long black hair that spilled out of the back of his hat. I came to understand that he's sort of a sexy underdog, as well as a double-bronze medalist at the 2008 biathlon worlds.

"He is wild man of biathlon," a blonde woman with a German flag explained. She had her favorite!

Greis ended up in 10th, missing a lot of shots on the range, the cost of which is a penalty loop per missed shot. These days, biathlon results are normalized by time spent on the course, so early finishers have to wait for the times of later competitors (more sweat). Wolf, one of the final staggered-starters, finished 24th of 88.

One great Olympic fan tradition is that some folks bring flags or other paraphenelia that is signed or marked by all the friends and family who couldn't make it to the Games. That extra jolt of good luck, brought along by those who represent their local communities as supporters, help the country's athletes excel. Here's one from Japan.

Fuyuko Suzuki finished 53rd in the women's race, and Hidenori Isa was 83rd on the men's side. Still, Isa did finish ahead of five competitors, including American Wynn Roberts. But once again, it was the Norwegians. Tora Berger won the women's 15k, just ahead of Elena Khroustaleva from Kazakhstan. Relative youngster Emil Hegle Svenden, just 24, won gold to go along with a silver in the sprints. Ole Einar Bjoerndalen, who's won more medals than anybody in biathlon history (10), added a silver (his fourth).

But on television, the cross country and biathlon events probably seem like a blur of skiers, some odd names, a few strange rules and occasional shots of crazy fans with flags. That's no way to catch Nordic Fever. The best method is to go to an actual event, sing along with some Norwegian drinking songs, scream in German, ring a cowbell, and adopt a favorite skier. There are folks out there who love this so much that they'd walk up a mountain to see it... and even, in some cases, go through airport security with a giant rattle.