Chapter VI: Conclusion

The beginner who has read the above remarks probably realises by now that _there is no such thing as a perfect ski binding which will satisfy everybody_! Some people want extreme lateral rigidity, others a little play, and others, again, comparative looseness. It is much the same with the vertical movement; if very stiff there is great control, valuable for jumping and for lifting the heel in steep hill climbing, but the ski “clappers” on the level. If very loose, the toe has to carry too much weight,[6] and the advantages of stiffness vanish. There can really be no such thing as a happy mean in these matters, and everybody must choose that which on the whole is best suited to his requirements. Nor can any form of fastening last for ever, and the most that one can expect is that a binding should not be continually giving way. Do not, therefore, begin by worrying yourself too much about this part of your equipment. Buy one or other of the bindings depicted above which you think will suit you best, and learn all about its little peculiarities and something about ski-running before you decide that it is no good. Above all things, avoid boring your more experienced friends with binding talk, of which they have all had enough and to spare.

FOOT-PLATES.

In order to protect the ski and to prevent snow adhering to it under the foot it is necessary to fix some sort of anti-sticking material to that part which is touched by the boot; and a thin plate of some non-corrosive metal is best for this purpose; the india-rubber or seal’s skin commonly sold are of little use, and soon wear out.

THE STICK.

The stick is a good servant, but a bad master. It is little used by first-class runners, except to enable them to increase the speed by punting. There can, however, be no doubt that it greatly assists a beginner in preserving his balance on difficult ground and in turning. On the other hand, it is equally certain that it is frequently the cause of his adopting a bad style, of spoiling his balance, and of hindering or entirely blocking his progress in the art of turning. To jump with a stick in the hand is most dangerous, and, of course, there is always the possibility of the stick being lost or broken on tour.

Accordingly there are those who recommend the beginner to leave this part of his outfit at home; and much is to be said in favour of such advice, especially in the case of a young and active pupil. When, however, it is argued that anybody who can go on ski without a stick will not have any difficulty in subsequently taking to one, we venture to differ. Perhaps in rare cases it may be so, but we have had a somewhat extensive experience of beginners of all ages, and we have always found it otherwise. The novice who has learnt without a stick seems to be greatly embarrassed when one is first placed in his hand. Moreover, we have met not a few ski-runners, no longer novices, who make very pretty Telemark and Christiania swings on the practice ground with hands free, but who break down hopelessly on tour when encumbered with a stick. But everybody is agreed that a stick of some sort or other should be taken on tour, and we fail to see the use of these pretty manœuvres if they cannot be accomplished when really most required. This, however, is far from being the whole case for the pole. What is your poor elderly friend to do when he tumbles in deep snow? It frequently requires considerable activity to get up under such circumstances, and what is here mentioned half in jest might really be an ugly matter. Besides, nobody over twenty-five can be expected to enjoy continual struggling head downwards. People get exhausted, people begin to think that it is impossible to learn, and people take to some inferior sport which they find easier, and therefore more amusing. Did you mutter “Let them go”? Nay; but there we touch the very root of the matter. Is ski-running merely a pretty form of athletics for the few, or is it a noble sport for the people, leading them forth from stuffy houses and narrow roads to the glories of the winter landscape? Surely the latter; and we would rather the runner sat on his pole at every hill and visited the woods and mountains than that he was the cleverest performer on the practice ground and went nowhere else. “But,” it is said, “if the beginner accustoms himself to run with a stick in his hand he will be quite helpless when he loses it or breaks it, or when he wishes to jump.” This is, of course, to some extent true, but the case is not so bad as all that. In reality, as above hinted, it is a good deal easier to run without a stick than with one after a certain stage has been reached; our experience is that the more advanced pupil soon learns to appreciate this, and that the transition from stick to no stick is seldom difficult. Besides, there is no reason to carry matters to extremes and _never_ to practise with the arms free.

_Photo by Th. Thorkelsen._]

Our advice, then, is:--_Begin by carrying a stick in the hand, but use it only to overcome a difficulty. Endeavour to be as independent of it as possible, and practise sometimes without it._

Shall the ski-runner use two sticks or one? and shall it or they be furnished with a basket arrangement at the end (see Fig. 12)? These are questions which have also been much discussed, and frequently rather unprofitably. We think that it all depends on circumstances. Two light bamboos with wicker-work discs (Norwegian _Trindser_) at the end are very serviceable when one has got beyond the beginner’s stage. They help one up hill and along the level, and down hill they may be trailed behind in each hand, or on difficult ground held together and used as one. The discs are, of course, intended to prevent the point penetrating the snow to too great a depth--_not_ to act as brakes. But on very steep and hard mountain sides where one may find oneself--sometimes with a precipice below--they are far from being a source of comfort. On such occasions one prefers to have a single stout staff, which one can thrust deeply into the snow, and which one knows will not slip or break. And in general we have not found two sticks to be of much service in the high Alps, though for lower excursions in Switzerland and in the Black Forest and everywhere in Norway we prefer them. The novice, however, should, we think, _begin_ with a simple staff of good ash or other strong wood, without any disc at the end. He is sure to require to use his stick to some extent (indeed, we shall advise him lower down to do so), and he would probably only break light double sticks. He should get into the habit of holding his stick in either hand, and should begin to practise with two as soon as he thinks he is far enough advanced to do so. In choosing his stick he will select one about as long as from the ground to the top of his shoulder. It should be furnished with a metal ferrule and a spike at the lower end, and a _broad_ leather loop at the top for the hand.

The double bamboo sticks should also be about as long as from the ground to the shoulder. They are best out from the root end of the plant, where it is strongest; the root also serves as a convenient lump for the hand to hold. The discs are best attached by a metal arrangement, as shown in Fig. 12, and not by boring a hole in the cane and passing a piece of leather through it, as is common in Norway. The one method holds for a long time; the other breaks very soon.

FOOTGEAR.

This is a very important part of a ski-runner’s outfit, and too much attention cannot be paid to it. Nevertheless, nothing is commoner in Switzerland than to see the early efforts of beginners enormously handicapped by unsuitable boots. English ladies, particularly, seem to find it difficult to make up their minds to spend the necessary amount of money on a suitable pair, and usually appear in thin, high-heeled shoes covered by “gouties.” But the acme of thoughtlessness was in our experience achieved by a man who went out in patent-leather boots and openwork silk socks! The consequences were, of course, frost-bite, and he narrowly escaped losing a few toes.

A strongly made, waterproof, low-heeled boot is a necessity, and with most modern bindings the sole should be not less than half an inch thick. It should be roomy enough to permit of _at least_ three pairs of extra thick socks being worn, and there should be plenty of room for the toes to “waggle.” With bindings such as Huitfeldt’s it is better not to have the toe cut too square, for a more or less wedge-shaped end fits better into the toe-irons. In order to resist the pressure of the toe-strap it is best to have the leather extra thick in front. The boot should fit fairly tightly round the ankle and instep, for reasonable firmness at this point does not interfere with the circulation, and is of value in preventing sprained ankles and chafed heels. With Ellefsen’s binding, where there are no straps across that part of the foot, this is of special importance. Nothing is gained by wearing a sloppy sort of boot and subsequently imprisoning the foot in tight and narrow straps. The strain of moving the ski has to be borne somewhere, and it is best to distribute it evenly where it is least felt. In order to prevent the heel straps slipping down it is strongly advisable with all the bindings mentioned above (except the Lilienfeld) to have a small strong strap and buckle sewn to the heel of the boots. The buckle should point upwards, and should be fixed quite close. The end of the strap then points downwards, and is useful as a sort of shoehorn for pulling on the binding.

For Switzerland we would advise the addition of a _few_ nails to the sole of the boot. They prevent any slipping about on icy places round the house, and they make all the difference to one’s happiness in climbing on foot over a pass, or the last few yards of some rocky and icy summit. They are not, however, to be recommended in Norway, where nobody wears them. Not but what there is plenty of ice round the hotels and sanatoria there, but in that country custom is everything, and it is better to bear with a bump or two than to offend.

In the Black Forest ski boots are often made of dog or calf skin, with the hair left on _outside_. An inner coating of hair is often added, but this we think is a mistake, as it is difficult to dry after use. The exterior coating of hair is, however, a great protection against cold. It wears out in course of time, and then the thing to do is to follow the classical example of the King of the Jews and buy another pair.

Arctic explorers and others who go to very cold places are unanimous as to the virtues of outside hair, and various devices exist to enable the runner to fix a covering of it over his ordinary boots. These inventions are, however, apt to be too bulky, or to fill up with snow, or to be cut by a nailed boot, and we cannot recommend any we have seen. A very simple plan is, however, to nail a piece of skin (or canvas-covered felt) to the ski in front of the foot, and to pass it between the toe-strap and the boot. It should be wide enough and long enough to cover the toes, but not, of course, so wide as to project and act as a brake. This little dodge helps to keep the toes warm, not only by the extra covering which it affords, but also by distributing the pressure of the toe-strap over a greater surface; it also to some extent prevents snow collecting under the toes and forming an uncomfortable lump there.

Boots should be greased now and again, but in moderation, for excessive greasing is said to cause cold feet. The boots should be warmed (with hot water or otherwise) before the grease is applied. Castor oil is excellent for this purpose.

The best kind of socks to wear are very thick ones made of goat’s hair; but nowadays they are difficult to get. In Norway so-called “Ragge Sokker” are no longer made of pure material, and the modern imitation is harsh and uncomfortable. Thick woollen socks known as “Ladder” are now largely used, and a pair of these over a good ordinary sock are sufficient for most purposes. It is, however, always advisable to take a dry pair in one’s rucksack, for, however waterproof one’s boots may be, a considerable amount of moisture always accumulates inside them. This is due to the condensation of perspiration against the cold outer surface of the boot, and is most dangerous in very cold weather, when the leather freezes and its pores are choked by ice. When this occurs the toe-straps should be loosed and the toes should be kept moving. Frost-bite is very insidious, and is frequently quite unnoticed by the sufferer till he reaches home and it is too late. The consequences may be very serious, and it is impossible to be too much on one’s guard.

From the above it will be seen that there is plenty of room for improvement in the ski-runner’s footgear. We recommend a thick under-sock, a pair of good “Ladder,” a stout boot, fitting well about the ankle, but with plenty of room at the toes, and a piece of skin covering the toes and held in position by the toe strap. But, all the same, we frequently suffer from cold feet, and we wish somebody would invent something better.

OTHER CLOTHES.

Other clothes are of minor importance. Remember that the season and the snow are cold, that the latter melts, that the exercise is at times very violent, and then you are not likely to try wading trousers or an umbrella. The best clothes for ski-runners are, perhaps, knickerbockers and a double-breasted jacket. Choose a material of smooth texture, for woolly stuffs catch the snow, which soon forms into icy lumps, betraying the novice and melting unpleasantly in a warm room. All openings at the neck, sleeves, knees, and ankles must have an arrangement to fit closely to keep out the snow, which is apt to find its way in, especially in the earlier stages of practice. Let the cap, or soft felt hat, be provided with flaps, to protect the ears in a sharp breeze. The so-called St. Moritz cap is excellently adapted to the purpose. Thick woollen gloves, long enough to reach high above the wrist, are indispensable, and a second pair ought to be in the pocket as a change, for wet gloves in a cold wind are the surest road to frost-bite. Puttees are probably the best means to shut the top of the boot and to cover the stockings. Some sort of wind-jacket is necessary in the Norwegian mountains and elsewhere where strong winds prevail. A capital one is in use in Austria. It is made of very thin oil-silk in the form of a sort of smock-frock, with a hood at the back for the head. It weighs almost nothing, and is warmer than any sweater. With this and a pair of trousers of the same material one may laugh at the most biting wind that ever blew, and the dangers of a night out become greatly minimised.

ACCESSORIES.

The RÜCKSACK--Norwegian Rypesæk--came originally from the Tyrol, and is by far the best means of carrying things. It should be made of stout waterproof canvas, and should be provided with broad shoulder-straps. We advise the novice to buy as good a one as he can afford; he will find it useful for other things besides ski-running.

SMOKED GLASSES, or some such device as that recommended below, will generally have to be worn above the tree-line to protect the eyes from snow-blindness. The precise nature of this complaint does not appear to be understood. It appears to be more prevalent in some countries than in others, and is not, we think, entirely a matter of intensity of light. It seems, for example, to be more dangerous in the Norwegian mountains than in Switzerland. Like frost-bite, it is insidious, and the patient frequently is not seriously inconvenienced till after the damage is done. Some people, too, are far more susceptible to it than others. Instead of smoked glass, which is liable to become dimmed by the condensation upon it of moisture, we prefer a simple oblong piece of leather, 6in. long and about 1in. broad, with two oval-shaped holes in it opposite the eyes, say, ½in. long by ⅜in. broad; a slit for the nose to hold it in position, and two pieces of string to bind it round the head.

_Photo by C. R. Wingfield._]

The WATER-BOTTLE should be of sufficient capacity; one to hold about a litre is convenient. It should be provided with a felt covering and a tight-fitting cork. What to put into it is a matter of choice, though much alcohol is not to be recommended. Personally we have given up compounding drinks of cold tea, sugar, and wine, for the reason that they are so nice that we drink more at a time than we should. Our companions, too, look at us with such longing eyes that it is difficult to resist their dumb appeal. Such a water-bottle is soon empty. Plain sugar and water is not so nice, but is very sustaining, the sugar being very rapidly digested, and a raw egg or two adds to the value of the compound. Dried prunes, acidulated drops, and other sweetmeats will be found very pleasant on a ski tour, even though one never touches them at other times. Louis Stevenson has observed that the hungrier a man is the more he appreciates delicacies, so do not let your luncheon consist entirely of plain beef sandwiches. Remember, too, that it is better to eat little and often than largely and all at once.

SOME SORT OF REPAIRING OUTFIT and a spare ski tip should always be taken with one. There are little light metal tips on the market made to fit over a broken ski which are very useful. The kind that fixes with a screw is best, as the other is apt to come off. If, however, one has the latter, a small screw-nail through it would keep it in place. With one of these tips, and the means of making an improvised binding with a few screw eyes and nails, a washer or two, and some straps, the runner should be able to get home easily enough wherever his ski may break. The reader must use his ingenuity in such matters, remembering always that it is impossible to execute very elaborate repairs with cold fingers.

There are other odds and ends more or less useful on tour, a description of which will be found in any dealer’s list.