Chapter II: Part 2

The part of the ski on which the foot rests should be covered by a thin plate of some such metal as brass or tin, which does not oxidise readily. This protects the ski if nailed boots are worn, and prevents snow from accumulating in an uncomfortable lump under the foot. If the boots have no nails, or if the binding has a false sole, a plate of celluloid or linoleum is sufficient.

_The Stick._--The ski-runner carries either one or two sticks. He uses them to increase his pace on level ground, or when running down a gentle slope; to help him in walking uphill; to steady him when turning while standing on a slope; and possibly, on very rare occasions, to help to check his pace.

To use them while on the move, either as a help to the balance or for steering, is the mark of a bad runner.

The sticks (for two are more useful than one) should be light; cane or hazel is the usual wood. They should be long enough to reach two or three inches above the elbow, when resting on the snow.

At the top the stick is provided with a leather loop to support the hand while punting. At the other end it is shod with a metal spike, a few inches above which a movable disc, generally made of wicker, is attached to prevent the stick from sinking into the snow. Choose some disc attachment which does _not_ involve the passing of a thong through a hole in the stick, for one of that sort wears out very soon.

CLOTHING

_Boots._--In order to avoid frost-bite, to the risk of which the ski-runner is often exposed, the boots must be stout, flexible, waterproof, and exceedingly loose--large enough, in fact, to hold two pairs, at any rate, of the very thickest stockings without the least pressure, especially on the toes. Boots made on the Norwegian "Laupar" principle are particularly good _only_ in the respect of giving the toes perfect freedom.

The heel must be very low, and, as explained above, it should be made to project at the back to prevent the heel-strap from slipping off, if the binding has one. For a binding of the Huitfeldt type the sole must be thick, not only at the ball of the foot, but at the waist; it should have a widish welt to prevent the toe-irons from pressing against the foot.[4]

Where the toe-irons touch the side of the sole, they are apt to wear a hollow, and the boot then works gradually forwards. This can be prevented by screwing thin plates of metal to the side of the sole at this point. To enable the toe-irons to hold the boot as steady as possible, it is better that the sides of the sole should be rather straight (though not parallel) than curved.

The boots should be greased or oiled often enough to keep them quite soft and flexible.

Some form of felt or canvas boot-cover is a great safeguard against frost-bite, which is a danger that can by no means be overrated.

Whether the boots shall be nailed or not is a matter of taste. Nails cut the skis and make the snow ball between them and the boots. Boots with no nails at all make climbing an icy path on foot rather troublesome. If no nails are worn, climbing irons can be carried to strap on to the boot for walking on icy places. Most people wear a few _small_ nails, though many (myself included) wear none. A complete rubber sole (which grips on ice but picks up no snow) might work even better than the "Scafe" rubber studs; but I know these are good.

_Stockings._--As I have said, two or three pairs of stockings should be worn. However waterproof the boot, it is impossible to keep the stockings perfectly dry owing to the condensation of water vapour from the foot which takes place on the inner surface of the boot. In severe cold this wet layer freezes, and should therefore be kept as far as possible from the foot. It is useless, however, to fill the boot with stockings to such an extent as to cause pressure on the foot and check the circulation, for this is even more likely to cause frost-bite than is insufficient covering.

Most ski-runners wear a pair of the thickest ordinary stockings, or socks, and over this a pair of goat's-hair socks which are more than twice as thick. These goat's-hair socks (or what are generally sold as such) wear badly, and a pair of socks of the same thickness, but made of wool, seem just as warm.

Spare socks should always be carried on long expeditions in case the pair next the feet should get wet through.

_Gloves._--These are an important item. They should be of mitten-shape, with a bag for the fingers, and should have a gauntlet-shaped arm long enough to pull well over the sleeve. Like the boots, they must be roomy. Felt or wool is the usual material.

A canvas outer covering makes them less liable to get wet through, for the snow sticks to it less. It is always difficult, however, to keep them dry, and a spare pair is often as necessary as spare socks.

_Cap._--Some kind of cap which can at least be pulled down over the ears, if not over the neck and chin, is indispensable. As an addition or substitute, an ample scarf or muffler is useful, especially, perhaps, for women.

No hat-brim protects the eyes sufficiently to be the least safeguard against snow-blindness. Dark glasses should always be carried, especially above the tree-line, and should be put on the _instant_ that any discomfort is felt from the glare.

_Outer Clothing._--This should be as nearly windproof as possible, and should have a smooth surface, for if it be hairy the snow will stick to it, and, when that melts, the clothes will become soaked. For this reason a sweater is not satisfactory as the outermost garment on a long expedition.

Any clothing which cannot be removed during a climb should be fairly light and not too hot, for climbing is often excessively hot work.

A moderately stout whipcord is perhaps as good a material as anything.

In order to keep out the snow the collar of a coat should be made to button close round the neck, and the sleeves round the wrists.

The pockets should have large flaps to button. Most English runners clothe themselves, as to the legs, in breeches and puttees, which are a very efficient means of keeping out the snow. Leather gaiters are useless.

Until recently most Norwegians used to wear rather close-fitting trousers which buttoned tightly round the ankles inside the boots, and a sort of very short puttee round the tops of the boots themselves. For warmth, comfort, and simplicity this system seems hard to beat.

All the foregoing remarks as to boots, stockings, gloves, caps, and material, of course, apply equally to women's clothing.

Whether in addition to snowproof knickerbockers and puttees a woman shall wear a skirt is, of course, a matter of taste or strength of mind. In Germany and Austria most lady ski-runners dispense with it.

If a skirt is worn it is particularly important that both it and the knickerbockers shall be of very smooth texture, otherwise the snow which works up between them in a fall will not shake out again, but will accumulate in large quantities and soak the clothes in melting.

The shorter the skirt, the better as regards comfort. Even a skirt which only just covers the knees will touch the snow during manoeuvres which involve a semi-kneeling position.

As to appearance, I can assure any one who is distressed at the apparent size of her feet and ankles when properly clad that a longish skirt makes them far more conspicuous than a very short one; a skirt long enough to hide them completely is, of course, out of the question. If the thick goat's-hair or woollen oversock goes some way up the leg instead of stopping short just above the boot, and if the puttee is thin and smooth instead of being about half an inch thick and woolly, a less gloomy outlook on life will perhaps be induced.

_Underclothing._--Climbing a hill on skis is generally very hot work, but one is often exposed to the most bitter cold on the top, especially when the sun is hidden, or when wind and sunshine come from the same quarter, and it is impossible to take shelter from the former without losing the latter. This makes it very difficult to regulate satisfactorily the thickness of one's clothing. On the whole, it is perhaps better to wear fairly light underclothing, and to rely for warmth mainly on outer garments which can be carried, instead of worn, during the climb.

If light clothing is worn, two extra sweaters or cardigans may well be carried. In this case they must never be forgotten, but must be carried _always_, no matter what the weather may be, for it may change quickly without the least warning, and, in any case, there is often a bitter wind high up when the heat is almost tropical in the valley.

A windproof coat of thin oil-silk or of a kind of paper-cloth made by a Paris firm, is a very good substitute for a spare sweater. It is warmer, lighter, and takes up hardly any space.

* * * * *

The following things are very useful, some of them indispensable on a long expedition. They can mostly be bought ready made, and I shall not attempt a description where their application is obvious.

Wax, either in a block or a collapsible tube, which is used to prevent wet snow from sticking to the ski. It is smeared on the ski and rubbed in with a rag. It is better, if possible, to do this before starting out; or, at any rate, to dry the ski first.

A good knife.

Some blunt instrument for scraping ice off the ski without injuring the wood.

A metal ski-tip to fit on the ski, if the point is broken off and lost. A few tools for mending a broken ski--gimlet, screw-driver, and punch (unless the knife is fitted with these); perhaps also a hammer, saw, and file. Small cases of tools with a common handle can be bought.

One or two small steel plates and pieces of sheet brass or zinc with holes bored in them, and a few screws to fit them; or a clamp[5] consisting of two metal plates connected by two bolts with wing-nuts.

Fig. 10 shows how these may be used to mend a broken ski.

Spare parts of the binding itself may be carried in case it breaks, and a thong of raw hide about two yards long, with a loop at one end, is often useful.

This thong, when used as a substitute for the Huitfeldt heel-strap, constitutes what is known as the Lapp binding. This is a most firm and comfortable binding, especially for jumping, but since it cannot be adjusted quickly nor with gloved hands, is unsuitable for occasions which involve frequent taking off and putting on of the skis, or exposure to extreme cold.

Fig. 11 explains the arrangement of the thong.

When arranged as above so that it passes twice round the heel of the boot, the thong is hauled perfectly taut and made fast.

This can be done in slightly different ways; I find the following a satisfactory one. Arrange the thong so that, when it is pulled tight, the points A B are about an inch in front of the heel of the boot, the loop A being on the outside of the foot. Then pass the free end under the waist of the foot, up across the thongs on the inner side, over the instep, and back to A, finishing with a half-hitch round both parts of the thong at A. If this half-hitch is made with the end of the thong pushed through it in a bight, it can be pulled undone like a bow, which is an advantage when the thong is frozen hard.

A few yards of strong cord, some string, and some brass wire are often useful.

A ski may be prevented from slipping backwards in hill-climbing by tying one end of a piece of cord to its tip, passing a few half hitches round it at intervals, hauling all taut, and tying the other end of the cord to the binding. This, however, makes it necessary to lift the ski forward at each step instead of sliding it.

The only satisfactory preventive of back-slip is a strip of sealskin fastened underneath the ski; this also prevents wet snow from sticking to the ski, as it sometimes does in masses almost too heavy to lift. To prevent back-slip a strip half the length of the ski is sufficient; for sticky snow, however, it is of course better for the ski to be quite covered. Which of the many forms of detachable sealskin in the market work the best I am not competent to say, having so far managed to do without it. There is no doubt that sealskin is a great labour saver. With its help it is possible to climb so much more quickly than without, that for long mountain tours it is almost indispensable. Moreover, when it is used for the climb, the soles of the skis can be kept polished or varnished to a degree of slipperiness that prevents even the worst of sticky snow from being much hindrance during the run down.

The rucksack, in which these things, spare clothing, food, &c., are carried, should be very large, snowproof and strong, but not heavy. Its straps should be wide at the shoulder and long.

About food, or the special equipment necessary for mountaineering, or any other special application of ski-running, I shall not attempt to speak, this book being only concerned with what is absolutely necessary to the ski-runner _quâ_ ski-runner.

Those who wish for further information will find it in a vast number of books on mountaineering proper, in Rickmers' "Ski-ing for Beginners and Mountaineers," Richardson's "The Ski-Runner," Arnold Lunn's Alpine Ski Club Guide-books, and in many books in other languages on ski-running and kindred subjects; for instance, "Der Ski-lauf," by Paulcke (of which a French translation, "Manuel de Ski," is published), and Bilgeri's "Alpine Ski-lauf."

THE MANAGEMENT OF THE SKIS

ON THE LEVEL AND UPHILL

_Putting on Skis._--Lay the skis side by side on the snow.

In order to put on the right ski, place the _left_ foot on it just behind the binding as in Fig. 12, the toe of the boot being on the left side of the ski and the heel on the right. Your weight then holds the ski steady while you push the right foot well home and fasten the binding. Now lift the right foot and ski, stand them on the left ski in a similar way, and fasten that to the foot.

On a hillside lay the skis _across_ the slope; stand _below_ them, and put on the _lower_ ski first, bringing the foot to it across the front of the other leg.

_On the Level._--The ski-runner moves on the level with an action much like that of ordinary walking, except that he does not lift his skis from the snow, but slides them along it.

Hold your skis _exactly parallel_ and as close together as possible--not more than two inches apart--and take a long, easy, lunging step, keeping the knee of the advancing leg well over the foot, and leaning the body well forwards (Plate I.).

Move the stick, or sticks, in time with the opposite leg, giving a push at each, or at every alternate stride, according as you carry two sticks or one.

Slide as far as you can after the advanced foot has received the weight, and don't be in a hurry to bring forward the other one.

The body must be swayed slightly from side to side with each step in order to balance it well over the ski which carries the weight.

If you wish to get up the greatest possible speed on the level with two sticks, take three running--not sliding--steps, swinging the sticks forwards with the first two, and, at the third, giving a push with both sticks, followed by a long slide.

Then do the same again, starting with the other foot.

_Uphill._--If the gradient is very slight, you can slide straight uphill in just the same way as on the level.

At a rather steeper gradient (the angle depending on the slipperiness of the snow and the skis) you will still be able to move in the same way, but without the extra forward slide after the weight has come on to the advanced ski.

If the slope becomes still steeper you will find that the friction is hardly enough to make the skis hold. The moment you feel they have a tendency to slip backwards as the weight comes on them, walk as upright as possible, even leaning slightly backwards, so as to bring the weight on the heels and throw a little tension on the toe-strap. Shorten your stride, and, instead of sliding the skis along the snow, lift their points six inches or so into the air as you move them forwards (but do not let their heel ends leave the snow), and bring them down again in front of you with a gentle but decided stamp.

In making this stamping movement, take care, as you bring the foot to the ground, to stamp it in a direction exactly at right angles to the surface of the slope. The least suspicion of pawing backwards, or lunging forwards, as the ski touches the snow is sure to make it slip.

By moving steadily and carefully in this way it is possible to walk up an appreciably steeper gradient than the one at which the skis first show a tendency to slip back. But it is no use attempting to struggle or hurry; no amount of effort will help you, and if you cannot do it easily you cannot do it at all.

If the gradient becomes any steeper than this--and except in the worst conditions of sticky snow, the slope will still be quite gentle, the skis will slip backwards in spite of all your care. At the first sudden and unexpected back-slip instinct will prompt you to throw yourself forward, strike out with the back foot, and make a sort of pawing movement with the advanced one. If you do this, your skis will slip from under you and you will fall on your nose. Do nothing of the sort, therefore, but the moment the ski slips lean _right backwards_, with a free swing of the body, at the same time lifting the slipping ski quickly round behind the heel of, and to right angles with, the other ski, to stop you (Plate II. p. 54). To proceed as before being now impossible, you have the choice of three different methods: zigzagging, herring-boning, and side-stepping.

_Zigzagging._--Turn more or less sideways to the hill and then move forwards at a gradient just easy enough to prevent back-slipping. The skis are held as close together as possible, and moved just as before; but now, instead of being "flat" to the surface of the snow, they are "edged" (cutting more deeply into it with the edges which are nearest the hill) and one ski is more or less above the other, according to the steepness of the slope.

If the surface is very hard and icy, and the skis cut in very little, less than half their width may rest on the snow. In order to lessen the muscular effort then needed to hold the ankles vertical (see p. 28) press both _knees_, especially the lower one, well over towards the hill.

Hold the sticks in each hand, and use them just as before, no matter how steep the slope. If the slope be very steep, the stick on the uphill side can be held shorter, but the two sticks should never (except on a dangerous slope) be put together and held across the body with both hands, as a climber holds his ice-axe. To do so will only get you into a bad habit of leaning towards the hill and supporting yourself with the stick, and will prevent you from balancing yourself properly and walking freely.

If only one stick be used, it should be carried in the hand which is nearest the hill.

If a steep slope is so hard and slippery that nothing will make the edges of the skis grip, hold the point of each stick close against the _downhill_ side of _each_ foot, move the sticks exactly in unison with the feet, and dig their points hard into the crust at each step. This gives a perfectly firm support for the skis and answers the purpose of climbing-irons. It is, however, very seldom necessary.

Having found the steepest gradient which you can negotiate without back-slipping, so adjust your course across the hill that this gradient remains constant. That is to say, if you come to a spot which is steeper--_no matter how slightly, or for how short a distance_--don't dream of trying to move on to it without altering your course; but instantly turn more sideways to the hill, so that although the _direction_ of your course is altered its _gradient_ remains the same as before. By this means only will you avoid falling on your nose, or, at any rate, struggling and slipping uselessly.

Nothing is more common than to see a beginner making frantic efforts to cross a short bit of steeper ground without altering his course. He could attempt nothing more hopeless.

It is amazing how many exhausting struggles and falls are usually needed to impress on a learner the fact that it is utterly impossible for him to advance _even one single step_ on steeper ground--however slight the difference in gradient may be--without altering his course.

Of course if the slope becomes _less_ steep, you turn less sideways to the hill and mount it more directly.

The diagram will, perhaps, help to explain the proper way of moving uphill across ground of varying gradient.

It represents a slope with a steep-sided gully running down it. The conformation of the ground is indicated by contour lines, as in a map--_i.e._ imaginary horizontal lines running along the side of the hill, with the same _vertical_ distance between each pair. Where, then, the contour lines in the plan are far apart the slope is gradual, and _vice versa_.

Since the direction of the fall of the slope is everywhere at right angles with that of the contour lines, its _general_ direction only is shown by the arrow; at either side of the gully its _local_ direction is, of course, nearly at right angles to this.

AB is the track of an experienced ski-runner. Observe that (i) in general shape the line AB resembles the contour lines; (ii) it never cuts the same contour twice; (iii) when the contours are far apart it cuts them at a blunter angle than when they are close together. In other words, the expert (i) makes a détour at the gully; (ii) never loses any height that he has once gained; (iii) moves steadily uphill at a constant gradient, facing the hill _more_ directly where it is _less_ steep, and _vice versa_.

AC is the track of a beginner. Trying to cut across directly towards B he runs downhill into the gully, but, being of course unable to climb straight up the steep slope on the far side in the direction of B, he has to bear away to the right; and at C, when his track from A is quite as long as the expert's at B, he is not nearly so far up the hill.

Remember that the variation of contour needs just as careful attention in its smallest details as in its main features, and must be negotiated in exactly the same way. In climbing in this way it is, of course, impossible to go on continually keeping the same side to the slope (unless the hill is perfectly conical in shape and quite free from obstacles, allowing one to wind round it to the top in a spiral). Having moved in one direction for a time, you will eventually have to turn round and begin a fresh tack.

To shuffle round, as you might do on the level, is obviously impossible; for, whether you do so facing up or downhill, the skis will at a certain angle begin to run away.

The usual procedure is to make what is known as a kick-turn.

_The Kick-Turn._--Suppose that you have been traversing the slope with the hill on your right side and wish to make a fresh tack. Stop with your skis pointing uphill at the angle at which they have just been moving, and your sticks resting close to each foot. Then put your weight on the lower ski, and draw back the other, slightly bending the upper knee and raising the heel (Plate III.). Now swing your right leg from the hip vigorously forwards and upwards, straightening it completely as it rises, and turning up the toe as hard as you can, as though trying to make a very high kick. The leg _must be swung freely_, not merely lifted. The result of this movement, if made with confidence, will be to bring the ski to an upright position with its heel resting in the snow close to the bend of the other (Plate IV.). If there is any hesitation, the knee is sure to remain bent, and the toe to point forward, the result of which will be that the heel of the ski will catch in the snow before it has moved far enough to the front.

The position in Plate IV. is only momentary. As soon as the ski is standing on end in the snow swing its point round to the right and downwards, until the whole ski again rests on the snow, pointing uphill in the _opposite direction_, but at the same angle as before (Plate V.). During this movement the heel of the right ski remains in the snow where it was placed at first, and acts as a pivot. The steeper and more slippery the slope, and the less directly you have therefore been climbing it, the narrower, obviously, will have to be the angle between the skis in the position of Plate V., but, if your joints are normally supple, it is only on very steep or icy slopes, when the skis have to be brought nearly parallel, that you will find it much of a strain to turn your feet and knees far enough outwards.

Next shift the whole weight over on to the upper leg, at the same time straightening it and letting the other hang slightly bent; this movement will lift the lower ski and stick just off the snow (Plate VI.). Then _straightening the left knee and turning up the toe as hard as possible_ (Plate VII., A), face towards the point of the right ski and bring the left ski round to the side of it (Plate VIII.). This time, however, make no attempt to kick or swing the leg, as you did in turning the right ski, but _keep the left foot quite close to the right as it moves round it_. The only difficulty here is to keep the point of the ski from catching in the slope above you as it turns. On a very steep slope, in order to avoid this, you will have to change from the position of Plate VI. to that of Plate VIII. very quickly, straightening the left knee and turning up the toe _with a sudden jerk_ as you do so, and also _lifting the left hip_ as much as you can. This will for a moment throw up the _point_ of the left ski much higher than if the movement were made slowly. But if you try to lift the _whole ski_ high above the snow with knee bent and toe dropped, or to swing the left leg away from the other, the point is nearly certain to catch (Plate VII., B).

The left stick is moved round with the left ski, but the point of the other stays in the same place throughout the turn; when only one stick is carried it should, therefore, be held in the hand which, before the turn, is the uphill one. The sticks of course help to steady you, but you should be able to turn without any stick in your hand, and should learn to do so as soon as you can.

Having reached the position of Plate VIII., you can, of course, begin a fresh tack, at the end of which you can make another kick-turn by reversing the words right and left in these directions.

The kick-turn, as I have described it, is made with three distinct pauses at the positions of Plates IV., V., and VI. Instead, however, of starting the turn by standing the upper ski on end and using its heel as a pivot, it is quite possible to do so by just lifting it far enough for its heel to clear the front of the standing leg, turning it in the air, and bringing it directly to its final position on the snow in one continuous movement. By then lifting the lower ski the instant the other comes to rest, and turning it without any preliminary pause, you can make the whole kick-turn so quickly that you hardly come to a standstill between one tack and the next. On a steep slope, however, it is always safer to begin by standing the upper ski on end before turning it, as otherwise its point is apt to catch in the snow before it has reached the proper new position.

There is another very convenient modification of the kick-turn which can be performed without coming to a standstill at all.

As you come to the end of a tack with, say, your left side to the hill, take a long step forward with your right foot, placing the right ski in front of the other one, pointing it uphill as much as you can and edging it inwards (Fig. 14, _1_). Then, throwing the weight momentarily _against_ the right ski rather than _on_ it (for if you actually stand on it it will slip backwards), take a wide step round to the left with the left ski, putting it down so that it points as nearly as possible in the direction of the new tack you are about to start, with its heel quite close to the heel of the other ski (Fig. 14, _2_). As the left ski comes to the snow, bring the right ski round beside it (Fig. 14, _3_) and walk on in the new direction. The whole process must be carried out quickly and accurately, for if there is any hesitation about the first two steps you are almost sure to slip backwards and fall on your nose. It is, however, really very easy, except on the steepest slopes, and is a great saving of time. The position in the middle of the turn is much the same as in "Herring-boning," described later (see Plate IX.). The sticks must be held up out of the way of the skis.

Another way of making the kick-turn is to go backwards through the whole process first described. After finishing a tack to the right, for instance, you can move successively through the positions of Plates VII., A, VI., and V., and then lift the upper ski round to the position of Plate III. By turning in this way, however, you lose a little height instead of gaining it; this method is, therefore, rather more suitable for _descending_ a hill in zigzags than for climbing it.

All the above ways of turning are known as _uphill_ turns because one faces the hill during the process; it is also possible to make the kick-turn facing _downhill_ by turning the _lower_ ski first. In order to prevent strain in the intermediate position, this downhill turn should be both started and finished with the skis pointing _downwards_ as much as possible (Fig. 15); this makes it particularly convenient for joining two downhill tacks. It can also, of course, be made backwards as well as forwards, with a slight consequent gain instead of a loss of height. In a downhill kick-turn the skis have more room to move freely, but the balance is much less steady than if one faces the hill. On the whole, the forward uphill turn first described is far the most useful, but when you want to turn in cramped corners, among trees and the like, you will find it a great help to know several ways of doing it.

Although, as I have said, the skis need never be quite parallel at the middle stage of the turn, you must take great care to bring the first ski far enough round to prevent the least chance of its slipping. On a steep or icy slope, where the skis at this stage must be brought nearly parallel, the kick-turn becomes difficult for the stiff-jointed; I have even known two cases in which it was apparently impossible. If, as is highly unlikely, your case is similar, you can always roll round on your back with your skis in the air--a simple but snowy process.

If you dislike this, and if, though the _joints_ of your legs are stiff, the _muscles_ are strong and active (a not unusual combination), you can as a last resource _jump_ round, facing downhill as you turn. The main difficulty in this is to prevent the heels of the skis from catching in the slope when halfway round, and the best way to prevent them doing so is to jump as hard as possible not directly upwards, but _out_ from the hill, so as to land _below_ where you take off. In order to bring round the skis close beside each other, press the _knees_ together throughout the jump. Hold the sticks near their middles, and jump from the toes, not the flat of the foot, with a free swinging action, not a hurried jerky one. This jump needs little skill and is easy enough on a moderate slope, but on a steep one becomes very hard work, for there the skis have less room to turn, and a powerful spring is necessary. The jump round, therefore, being most difficult under the same conditions as the kick-turn, and much more tiring, is hardly a satisfactory substitute for it; I only mention it as a perfectly possible one.

The accompanying diagram, which is practically the same as one in Mr. Richardson's book, "The Ski-Runner," shows how, by walking alternately backwards and forwards, one can climb a steep passage, just wide enough to allow zigzagging, without wasting time in turning at the end of each tack. A description is unnecessary. It is, of course, possible to make the tacks of any length, but the number of steps in each must always be an even one, as the tack must be started with the upper foot and finished with the lower.

_Half Side-stepping._--In tacking uphill among obstacles you may want to traverse at an angle so steep that the skis would back-slip if you tried to move straight forward in the ordinary way. You will then have to step sideways as well as forwards with each ski, the upper one starting the process and the lower one being drawn up to it, and then advanced. Fig. 17, A, shows the track that will be left.

This must of course be done without pointing the skis uphill more steeply than the angle at which they could traverse in the ordinary way. In lifting the upper ski sideways you are sure at first to point it uphill too much (Fig. 17, B _3_), when, if it does not slip back at once, you will tread on it with the heel of the lower ski at the next step (Fig. 17, B _4_). To avoid this, do your best at first to place the upper ski _horizontally_ across the slope, lifting its _heel_ well upwards and away from the other, pointing the foot downwards and inwards, and turning your body so as to face a little downhill.

On open ground, if the snow is so slippery that the gradient of an ordinary straightforward traverse has to be very slight indeed, this half side-stepping can be used simply to save time. Especial care must then be taken to place the upper ski nearly horizontally. Half side-stepping can be kept up for a long time without difficulty; but it is more tiring than ordinary straightforward traversing, and I think it is a waste of energy to employ it constantly when there is no special reason for it, as some runners are fond of doing.

_Side-stepping._--It is, of course, also possible to side-step directly uphill with the skis quite horizontal, as in Fig. 18, but this, though very easy, is such a tiresome process that it is seldom used except in narrow passages where there is room for nothing else, or for climbing short slopes that are very steep and icy.

_Herring-boning_ (Plate IX.).--This is the quickest but far the most tiring way of going straight up a steep slope. Stand with skis together pointing as much uphill as they can without slipping. Lift the upper ski, and, keeping the feet close together, turn it until it points across the hill in the opposite direction, but _at the same angle as before_, with its heel across that of the other. Then slide it forwards until it just clears the lower one; stand up on it and draw up the lower foot so that the skis are again crossed at the back at the same angle as before, but with the hitherto lower ski uppermost. You can now take a new step in the other direction, and so on.[6] Fig. 19 shows the track. The steeper the slope the wider must be the angle between the skis to prevent them from slipping back, but you can always, if you find it difficult to turn the feet enough outwards, point the skis uphill more steeply than would otherwise be possible, by simply throwing the weight momentarily _against_ rather than _on to_ each ski (see p. 65), and keeping the feet well apart the whole time instead of bringing them together between each step. But though this is a quicker method, it is a still more tiring one than the first.

If the slope is steep, herring-boning is too exhausting to be kept up for more than a short time by anyone but a trained athlete, but on a gradient which will allow the skis to diverge at only a slight angle it is easy enough.

_Getting up from a Fall._--If during any of these manoeuvres you should fall down, you may find some difficulty in getting up again.

The first problem is to disentangle the skis, if they have become jammed in a complicated position.

The best way to do this is generally to begin by moving your body as far away from them as possible. If, for instance, you have fallen with your head downhill, wriggle yourself still farther downhill. Next lift your skis into the air, either by rolling on your back and raising the legs from the hips, or by rolling on to your face and bending the legs backwards from the knees. It is generally possible to free the skis in this way, but occasionally one cannot move without unfastening them first.

Having freed them, place them parallel in the air, and roll round on your side so as to bring them to the snow on the downhill side of you and exactly at right angles to the fall of the slope.

This is important, for, if they are pointing either up or down hill, they will, of course, begin to slip the moment you put your weight on them.

If they are quite level, and your feet are exactly below your body, you have merely to push yourself up with the arm which is underneath you and stand erect. If you want to help yourself up with your stick, do not poke it vertically into the snow and try to climb up it, for if the snow is deep and soft you will only plunge it farther in without getting any resistance. _Lay it horizontally_ on the snow, and it will then give you enough purchase to push up from.

On level ground it is harder to get up again than on a hill side, owing to the difficulty of getting the skis underneath one in order to get to one's feet. After freeing them and placing them parallel, lie on your side, draw your knees as close to your chest, and your feet as close to your thighs as you can, lay your stick flat under your side, and, with a vigorous push on it, you ought to be able to get your weight over the skis and stand up.

Never hurry, or try to struggle frantically to your feet without any definite method. You will merely exhaust yourself. It is impossible, as a rule, to get up without going through the various manoeuvres that I have described, but these take a very short time if they are performed smartly and accurately.

GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF STEERING, ETC.

This chapter is mildly theoretical, and may be skipped by the reader who believes in nothing that is not, in the ordinary sense of the word, practical; for in it he will find no definite instructions, but only a description of the behaviour, under different conditions, of the skis when in motion, and an attempt at an explanation of it.

I advise him, however, to try to read it, for I think that what I have to say here is, in a broad sense, strictly practical. I am convinced at any rate, that if, when I began ski-ing, some one had given me the information which I am about to try to impart, and which, for the most part, I have slowly collected for myself, I could have reached in a month the very moderate degree of skill which it has taken me five seasons or so to arrive at.

If the reader can thoroughly grasp the few facts with which this chapter is concerned--and he can take my word for the facts, whatever he may think about my comments on them--he will, I think, find it far easier to understand, remember, and put into practice the instructions which he will find in the subsequent chapters, as to the various swings, turns, and other manoeuvres for controlling and steering the skis, and keeping the balance while running downhill.

Before proceeding any further, I had better, in order to avoid any chance of being misunderstood, explain certain terms of which I shall constantly make use throughout the rest of the book. These terms are the "edging" and "flattening" of the skis, and the "inside" and "outside" of a curve.

If any reader feels that an explanation of these terms is an insult to his intelligence, I can only assure him that such an explanation has been necessary in the case of many of my pupils.

The terms "edging" and "flattening" simply have reference to the relation of the plane of the ski's sole with that of the general surface on which it is resting, and do not refer to its relation with a horizontal plane, or, in other words, to its position in space.

Thus a ski is "flat" when standing in the normal position on level ground; but, when standing in the normal position on the side of a slope, it is _not_ "flat," but "edged," for in this case the edge nearest the hill cuts deeper into the snow than the other although the plane of the sole is still horizontal. (Fig. 20, A and B.)

The case is altered when the ski is inclined sideways; on level ground a ski that is inclined sideways is "edged" (C and E); but on the side of a hill a ski when inclined sideways so that the plane of its sole becomes parallel with that of the surface of the slope, is _not_ "edged" but "flat" (D). When inclined to the opposite side, however, it is, of course, "edged" even more strongly than in the normal position (F).

The inside and outside of a curve mean, respectively, the sides nearest to, and farthest from, the centre of the circle of which that curve is an arc; that is to say, that in speaking of a swing or a turn to the right, the right ski, foot, and so forth are the inside, and the left the outside ones, while in the case of a turn to the left it is just the reverse.

This is simple enough. A shade of ambiguity, however, may lie in the fact that the edges of a ski are generally called "inside" and "outside" with reference to their relation to the foot, in the same way as those of a skate. In speaking, then, of swings or turns, the right edge, say, of the right ski may be referred to as its "outside" edge, even when the right ski itself, and the right leg, shoulder, and so on are all the inner ones in relation to the curve of the swing.

Now for the facts referred to above.

When a ski is pointed directly downhill and is made to slide with its sole held flat on the snow, it runs, if properly constructed, in a perfectly straight line.

If it is then "edged" to one side it runs round gradually to that side, the curved point acting against the snow like a bow rudder and drawing it to that side.

The steering effect, in theory, increases with the edging until it reaches its maximum when the ski is edged to a right angle. What happens in practice is that though the edging and the steering effect do increase together, there is no use in edging the ski beyond a certain angle--less than 45°--as, if that angle is exceeded, the ski sinks deeply into the snow and refuses to slide.

If that angle is not exceeded, however, the deeper the ski sinks into the snow (owing to the softness of the latter) the greater is the steering effect, for then a larger and more sharply curved surface of the point comes into action as a rudder.

If when going straight downhill the runner "edges" his ski--we will suppose he has only one--_by simply leaning sideways_, he will equally simply fall down; but if he "edges" it _without leaning_--if he edges it _in relation to himself_, so to speak--it will begin to turn; that he then leans sideways in order to keep his balance does not make the turn sharper.

If the runner traverses the slope with his ski held normally, as in Fig. 20, B, it will run straight, for although it is then edged in relation to the slope it is not edged in relation to him. If he edges it in relation to himself it will turn more or less according as the gradient of its previous traverse has been steep or gradual.

When a ski running straight downhill is made to turn by "edging," the further it turns, and the less directly therefore it points downhill, the less abrupt becomes the curve of its course. This curve, indeed, eventually becomes so gradual that before the ski has turned far enough to point horizontally across the slope and come to a standstill, the line of its track is practically straight.

When, therefore, a ski, traversing directly at a moderate gradient, is simply "edged" towards the slope, there is no perceptible turning effect, even if the runner does not lean inwards.

At first sight it might appear that the movement of a ski when edged and travelling in a curve would be precisely similar to that of a skate, and so it is in a way.

Since the edge of a skate is, in shape, the arc of a circle, a skate, when edged, cuts cleanly round without side-slip, and so in a sense does a ski, when simply edged, for its heel then follows in the track of its point. An edged ski, moreover, like a skate, turns more or less gradually, according to the angle at which it is edged. But while a skate, the edge of which is curved throughout, touches the ice with only a very small part of this edge, and is able to make a curve of very small radius, a ski touches the snow with nearly the whole length of its edge, the greater part of which is quite straight. This straight part so far neutralises the turning action of the curved point, that a ski made to turn simply by edging is unable to make anything but a very long and gradual curve--so gradual, indeed, that for practical purposes of steering the edging of the ski, _unaided_, is absolutely useless.

But though, contrary to what one might expect, the edging or flattening of the skis may practically be disregarded as _primary_ factors in a turn, they are, as we shall see, of the greatest importance as _secondary_ ones.

Before a ski can be made to turn at all sharply, its heel must be got out of the track of its point and made to travel faster on a curve of its own (as in Fig. 21, B). The ski as a whole, in fact, must be made to side-slip more or less as well as move forward.

The first question, then, is how the ski-heel is to be got out of the track of the point in order that the side-slip may start. If the ski is pointing nearly directly downhill, whether flat and running straight, or moving edged in a long curve, there is--apart from the help of the other ski, which we will leave out of the question for the present--only one possible way of doing it. The runner, by means of sudden--though not necessarily more than a very slight--muscular effort must jerk it more or less broadside on. How he makes this effort need not be considered here; we will also defer the consideration of the other ways in which the side-slip may be started. Supposing it has been started, it must then, by edging or flattening, be encouraged to continue, if the ski is to go on turning.

It depends on the quality of the snow as to whether a ski side-slips more freely when flat or when more or less edged. If the surface of the snow is hard and icy, or if there is a mere shallow layer of loose snow on a hard crust, a ski will slip sideways either when quite flat or when slightly or even strongly edged on the side _from_ which it is moving.

The flat position would in this case be the more favourable if the hard surface were perfectly smooth; this, however, it seldom is; it usually has small projections which, when the ski is quite flat, strike its side and check or stop it, while, if the edge is raised, they strike its sole obliquely and affect its motion but little.

The flat position, then, is not advisable as an aid to side-slip even in the case of hard snow; on snow of any other kind it is still less advisable, for if the ski sinks deeply into loose soft snow, or even but a little way into dense soft snow or into a thin crust, it can hardly be induced to side-slip at all when held quite flat, while when more or less edged, it can usually (if already in motion) be made to do so without much difficulty.

The reason is not quite obvious, for at first glance it would appear that the ski would meet more resistance from the snow in the edged position than in the flat, but this is not the case, for, when the ski is edged, most of the resistance is exerted _obliquely_ against its sole, and so tends to make the ski rise to the surface of the snow and relieves the pressure. When, however, the ski is flat, the resistance acts _directly_ against the side of it, and there is no lifting tendency to diminish the rapidity with which this resistance increases as the snow is compressed.