Chapter VII: Part III: Technical (1)

PRELIMINARY ADVICE.

We would very strongly recommend the beginner to make his first efforts on some one or other of the good snow conditions described on pp. 21 and 22. Freshly fallen deep snow is especially to be avoided, for not only does it afford heavy and difficult going, but a fall in it is apt to be dangerous. This is, of course, the reverse of what one would expect; but what happens is that the ski sink in deeply, and in the event of a fall they are apt to stick and sprain the ankle or knee. The firmer the snow the better it is, provided always that it be of sufficient depth and that it be fair snow, and not ice-crust.

All things considered, we would advise the beginner to learn to go slowly before he learns to go fast. That is to say, as soon as he can run straight fairly well, we would have him learn how to regulate his speed and steer by means of what is known as “stemming” (see _infra_, p. 69). In practising this movement he will at the same time learn how to balance himself with the weight on one foot, a necessary accomplishment; for, though in ski-running both ski are usually kept on the ground, _the weight is nearly always mainly on one foot_. It is well to pause and try to appreciate this very important fact before reading further.

After he has learnt something of stemming, and provided that he has followed our instructions and used his pole as little as possible (and then only as we direct), he should not find much difficulty in acquiring some speed in glissading. He should then begin to take short tours of, say, an hour or two’s duration, gradually lengthening them as his proficiency increases. _He should when on tour endeavour to apply the knowledge which he has gained on the practice ground, and on the practice ground he should try to overcome those difficulties which he has encountered on tour._ There is no sense in keeping on climbing up and sliding straight down the same easy hill; yet such is the commonest form of ski-ing at fashionable Swiss winter resorts!

As soon as the beginner can “turn on the spot,” run straight fairly well, and “stem,” he _can_ (we do not say he _should_) go where he pleases. He will, however, remain slow and awkward, and he will miss a great deal of the beauty of the sport if he rests content with these easy accomplishments. We trust that he will be of a more ambitious disposition, and that he will proceed to the mastery of the “S” turn and of the “Telemark” and “Christiania” swings; and we strongly recommend him to learn something of jumping, not only on account of the amusement which he will certainly derive from it, but because it is the very best means of gaining a good balance for ordinary running.

It is of the greatest importance to cultivate a freedom and elasticity of movement and position. The muscles should be as strong as iron, but as flexible as rope. The knees should be pliant, and should act like the springs of a carriage in relation to the rest of the body. Be watchful, but courageous, and try hard not to fall.

LEAN FORWARD!

Lean forward is the watchword of the ski-runner, and it is just as well to explain what is meant by it before proceeding further.

Place your ski parallel, one about a foot in front of the other, and throw the body forward as much as possible; one ought to feel as if about to fall on one’s nose. To the onlooker one seems to be standing on the _entire_ sole of the foot, but in reality all the weight rests on the front part and the toes. Thus, stand erect on the ski, the knees a little bent, and then lean forward without bending any part of your body (especially not the region of the hips) and without raising the heel; then you ought to feel what is meant. Never assume a position as if sitting down or about to do so, because that would press down the heel. Every violation of this great rule of leaning forward is punished by the ski “bolting” from under one.

TO LIFT THE POINT OF THE SKI.

To lift the point of the ski seems a very simple matter, but it is at least ten to one that the novice will do it wrong. Press the heel of the ski down on the ground with your heel, and lift the point upwards with your toe. _Do not raise any part of your foot from the ski._

To lift the heel of the ski reverse the above. Here it will not be possible to keep the heel of the foot on the heel of the ski, but the binding will raise the latter from the ground to some extent.

TURNING ON THE SPOT.

Turning on the spot is a puzzle to the beginner, though simple when shown.

Lift one ski straight to the front (see Fig. 13 (1)), putting the heel end as far away from you as you can, then turn it outwards and away from you smartly, swinging the point right round and leaving the heel resting on the snow, then put it down, point by heel, alongside of the other ski. This twisted position (Fig. 13 (2)) is the only difficulty, but very few attempts will soon show that it is not so bad or cramped as it seemed at first. In this position hold the knees slightly bent. Lastly, _raise the point_ of the other ski and swing it round. You will find it easier to learn this movement with the assistance of your stick, which should first be held obliquely across the body, pointing in the opposite direction to that in which you are turning. Then after assuming position (2) shift it across as in (3), and lastly swing round the other ski. As soon as you are proficient with the help of the stick practise without it--and, of course, both to right and to left. It is not necessary to stand on the snow in order to learn these movements. The carpet will do, but remove all Dresden china from the immediate neighbourhood.

WALKING WITH SKI ON THE LEVEL.

Walking with ski on the level differs from ordinary walking or skating in this, that _one must not strike out_, there being no fulcrum or point of resistance. Keep the ski _parallel_ and _as close together as possible_ (closer than shown in the diagram), for a narrow spoor has many advantages, besides being “good form.” Throw the weight of the body forward and _slide on the advanced leg_; the “hind” leg must be absolutely disengaged--that is to say, do not strike out by trying to press the snow with it. Begin with long, slow steps, lunging forward with bent knee (Fig. 14). Do not lift the ski from the ground, but slide along regularly and conscientiously; do not hurry or flurry, but save your breath. In one’s first steps one must specially cultivate precision, sliding forward with ski exactly parallel, and distributing the weight properly. Lean forward! slide![7]

The ski should be kept closer together than shown. The closer the better.]

A single stick on the level is of but little service, but with two sticks the pace can be considerably increased, especially on a good firm surface. Both sticks should be thrown forward simultaneously, and the slide on the advanced leg accelerated by a vigorous push with both arms. When proceeding in this way it is well to observe some kind of rhythm; and, as the snow is seldom slippery enough to admit of a push at each step, one should run, for example, one, two, three steps (swinging the sticks forward), and then push with the arms, sliding on, say, the right leg; then run one, two, three steps and push, sliding on the left leg, and so on.

UP-HILL.

To the laity it is a matter for wonder how it is possible to climb any considerable hill at all on ski. We remember well the look of polite incredulity which passed across the face of a mountaineering friend some years ago when we told him that a certain well-known pass in the Alps had been traversed in winter. He had tried ski himself, but had made very little of them, and the pass in question is a stiff one to negotiate even in summer. But now long climbs on ski in winter have become so common that it is unnecessary to pursue the subject further than to quote the classical observation of Olaus Magnus, “There exists no mountain, however high, which by means of cunning by-ways he (the ski-runner) cannot surmount.”

_Photo by E. C. Richardson._]

It is, however, well to observe here that some of the accounts of the ease with which one can climb hills on ski have been exaggerated. In rare conditions of perfect snow one may perhaps ascend as quickly as in summer, but, roughly speaking, it may be said that ski are about twenty-five per cent. slower up-hill than boots. We are here, of course, speaking of climbing a steep mountain where it is necessary to zig-zag (see _infra_), and not of walking straight up a moderate slope. Moreover, whether we slide the ski upwards in winter or whether we carry a corresponding weight on our backs in summer, the fact remains that some 10lb. or so have to be raised so many feet, and we are handicapped to that extent. Where ski really have the advantage is after the summit has been reached--of which more anon.

Up to a certain degree of steepness (varying with the quality of the snow) there is little or no difference between the methods used for climbing and for walking on the level. Snow is not an absolutely slippery substance, and the ski always adhere to it to some extent. There comes, however, very soon a point beyond which we can no longer slide as on the level, and shortly after-wards another, where the force of gravity overcomes the “stickiness” of the snow and we begin to slip back. These points are very different with the expert and the beginner, and the former will slide easily straight up a slope upon which the latter will slip hopelessly.

In ascending a steep incline the art lies (1) in knowing (and only experience can teach one) just how steeply one can go without a slip; (2) in the correct placing of the ski in the snow; and (3) in the correct balancing of the body upon the ski when so placed. The correct placing of the ski is not a difficult matter. The secret lies in raising the point of the ski (see p. 53) an inch or two from the ground and bringing it _straight_ down with a _firm_ stamp. The stamp is at first nearly always made too gently by ladies and too hard by men. Imagine you are cracking a walnut--that will be about right. Remember that _where the foot is brought down there it must stop_. If it slips even the least tiny bit you must stamp again.

Next bring the weight forward as evenly as possible on to the ski you have stamped, and advance the other leg. In doing so take the greatest care to balance the weight of the body _straight over_ the stamped ski; lean neither backwards nor forwards, or you are certain to slip.

In hill-climbing it is, of course, expedient to go as steeply as possible, but the beginner will find that it pays best to take things easily at first, as a single slip backwards is more exhausting than twenty steps forwards.

To negotiate a steep slope one must go across and upward at a convenient angle, making a zig-zag track, as an engineer would plan a good mountain road (Fig. 15). Turn at the corners as described, p. 55, and when so doing remember to assume a safe standing position, for a slip on a steep slope may be attended by unpleasant consequences. The correct position in which to stand before turning is clearly with the ski horizontally in space--that is to say, at right angles to the direction of the gradient; then one cannot slip while engrossed in the task.

NOTE.--Swing the body well, as shown.]

The diagrams on page 59 show two other methods of hill-climbing which are chiefly useful for short slopes. They are both too fatiguing to be employed for any length of time. A modification of the style shown in Fig. 17 is, however, very useful, especially on crusted snow. It consists in going forwards and upwards at the same time, lifting the ski at every step. This is not so very tiring, and may on a hard surface be kept up for a considerable length of time without undue fatigue. The track formed will appear as under.

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It is important when proceeding in this way to remember, when lifting the _upper_ ski, _to raise its heel from the snow_ (see p. 55) _and place it well up-hill in a horizontal position_. Most beginners move only the front part of the ski, and place it in the snow with the heel pointing down hill. Even if the upper ski does not slip in this wrong position (as usually happens), the lower ski, when it comes to be lifted, is sure to be placed across the heel of the upper ski, imprisoning it and preventing the next step being taken. You are certain to make this mistake very frequently at first, and it will land you in all sorts of difficulties and entanglements, but do not forget that we warned you against it.

A single stick is not of any very positive assistance up-hill, though it has a negative value on _very_ steep ground both in aiding the balance and in giving a feeling of security against slipping. In traversing a slope it should be held across the body with the point touching the snow on the upper side. The beginner will also find it useful to assist him in rising to his feet after a fall. He should, however, entirely abandon all idea of pulling himself up-hill with his stick; to do so is quite impossible. Balance is what is required, _plus_ a little thigh muscle, which will come with practice.

Two sticks are, however, of considerable help, especially on moderate slopes up which it is possible to go straight. They should be placed in the snow alternately, after the manner which nature dictates. In traversing steep ground they cease to be of service, for the lower one is not long enough to reach the slope below one’s feet, and the upper one cannot be used effectively on the bank at one’s side. Under such circumstances it is better, and safer, to hold them together and to use them as one, as described above.

In general for long climbs it is best to go comparatively slowly and to “keep at it.” The speed of a party should be that of the slowest man. If you happen to be that unfortunate individual, don’t lag behind if you can help it, but don’t hesitate to shout to the others if they are going too fast for you. If, however, they are novices and persist in rushing, slow down and go your own pace. It is not at all improbable that if you go steadily you may be the first at the top, after all; but even if you arrive twenty minutes later than the others you are in no wise dishonoured.

Strictly between ourselves, we rather like to be last man, and to allow our more energetic friends to go on ahead. The last man has far the easiest place on a newly made track, and we do not thirst for the glory of breaking the snow.

But, of course, a properly organised party should keep together, and its members should take it in turns to go ahead. It is in itself a pleasure to move steadily upwards in this way, the ski and the sticks keeping time, and it makes the way seem shorter and easier for everybody.

One concluding word of advice may here be given. Eat your lunch some little distance below your intended highest point. The tops of mountains and passes are apt to be draughty, and, besides, it is much better to begin the run down when the muscles are warm and supple than to wait till after they have turned cold and stiff from sitting about.

GLIDING DOWN.

Gliding down is the characteristic part of ski-running, as distinct from the use of pattens, Canadian snow-shoes, &c. It is the reward reaped after the labours of the climb. The ascent is, indeed, a struggle against gravity, but the descent is the highest advantage that any physical exercise can safely derive from terrestrial attraction.

Let us imagine ourselves on the top of some long Norwegian mountain ready for the plunge. There is a clear course between the steep rocks near the top, and an open run across the glacier below to the terminal moraine a mile off. We can see every yard of the way, and all is fair going, yet we feel just the merest tinge of nervousness, for the incline is steep, and looks steeper than it is. But there is really no danger, so it is over the edge and off! In an instant all fears are left behind, for now balance and quickness of eye are to be put to the test, and the wind is whistling and the snow dust spurting. We whiz past the rocks and over a few inequalities, negotiated here by a spring and a flight of a few yards through the air and there by a compensating yielding of the knees. Now we rush out on to the smooth surface of the glacier, where there is no jar and no vibration. Our feet seem to have vanished, and we lean, as it were, in space, with the ice-wind pressed against us. There is no more need for balancing, and no thought of falling, so even is the motion and so trustworthy the snow. Smoothly our wooden wings bear us onwards, and the furlongs lie behind! But the end approaches, the slope becomes less steep, the pace slackens, and presently we glide gently up the opposite slope of the moraine and turn to watch our companions.

Such is the best picture we can give you of a good straight glissade on ski; but there is not the slightest reason, friend novice, why you yourself should not enjoy the reality ere long. You must, however, learn to walk before you can run, and we would have you make your first attempts on some quite easy slope, removed if possible from the public gaze. A few obstacles, such as trees, scattered about do not matter, as you are not in the least likely to run into them, and they serve to accustom the eye to their presence. If possible, let there be a gradual outrun at the bottom of the hill. Practise there awhile, and as soon as you can run down without a fall move on somewhere else to a place where the ground is steeper and more uneven.

To start on steep ground is a little difficult at first. Stand horizontally to the direction of the slope. Then _as quickly as possible_ lift round first the lower and then the upper ski. Lean forward and off! If you are quick and lean forward, the ski will not bolt from under you; if you are slow and hang back, they will.

The correct position for descending a hill is that shown in Fig. 18 (1) above. Keep the ski parallel and _as close together as you can_ (touching if possible), advance one foot about twelve inches, and let the main weight of the body rest on the ball of the “hind” foot; feel your way, so to speak, with the front foot. _Lean forward. Bend the knees slightly, and be as free and as elastic about them as possible._ Practise with either foot leading. Avoid any affected and ridiculous pose. Do not, for example, if you are running without a stick, hold the arms straight out from the body as though you were walking a tight-rope. To do so may slightly assist the balance, but you cannot run like this with a stick in your hand, and it is far better not to get into bad habits. No. 3 in the diagram (p. 63) is a very common attitude, but it is as bad as bad can be. The wide spoor is a cause of instability, the _extreme_ bending of the knee is a source of weakness, and there is a very fair chance of the runner (if he falls forward) knocking out his front teeth against his stick. Hold that article _clear of the ground_ in a safe position as shown (No. 1, p. 63), and practise sometimes without it. _Above all things, do not lean backwards on to the pole_, for the consequence of so doing is that the upper part of the body is retarded in its speed, and, being thus left further and further behind, a spill on lumpy ground becomes inevitable. There is a right way of using the pole for braking and turning, which will be explained further on, but until some little skill in simple straight glissading is gained it is best not to trouble about this. We strongly advise you in the meanwhile not to use the stick at all, but, for reasons previously stated (see pp. 44 and 45), to practise with it held in the hand clear of the ground.

Double sticks should be held up one in each hand or trailed behind.

The position shown in Fig. 18 (1) is the safest position for running over unbroken snow, for by advancing the foot one lengthens the running surface and so glides more easily over any inequalities, and by holding the ski together one is less disturbed by any lateral irregularities. But on an icy road it will be found easier to run with the feet more level and somewhat apart, for there another disturbing factor, side slip, comes into play.

So, again, when changes of the snow’s surface are likely to occur, causing the ski at one time to run freely and at another to stick, it will be found better to crouch close down to the ground, for by doing so one lowers the centre of gravity, and is less likely to be pitched forward when entering the slow snow. And there will be other occasions when the runner will find it necessary to more or less modify the position shown in Fig. 18 (1). Nevertheless, this attitude may safely be considered the _normal_ one for descending hills on ski, and the beginner is recommended to study it carefully, and to adhere to it as closely as circumstances will permit.

FALLING AND GETTING UP.

As to the former, we beg to offer Mr. Punch’s advice to those about to marry--“don’t.” Every ski-runner falls more or less, the beginner very much, the expert very rarely. But most novices are apt to throw themselves down far oftener than there is any occasion for. Do not, therefore, give up simply because you lose your balance a little; very frequently if you try hard you will be able to keep upright. If you make up your mind to “stand” down a difficult hill, the chances are that you will succeed in doing so; but if you are nervous and hang back, you are almost certain to come to grief. It is specially true of ski-running that fortune favours the brave. When, however, a fall cannot be avoided, we would advise you, if possible, to cast yourself down sideways and backwards; but if the whole affair is beyond your control, then relax every muscle in your body and let yourself go. Make no attempt to save yourself or stop rolling. Then there will be no snapping of tense sinews.

You will generally find out the easiest way of getting up for yourself, but two little artifices may here be mentioned. One is to get on to the back of your ski in deep snow; and the other is to bring the ski below you on a steep slope and to place them at right angles to the gradient before attempting to rise.

SLIGHT CHANGES OF DIRECTION.

Slight changes of direction can be made by leaning the body a little this way or that. This is very easy, and requires no explanation.

“SKATING.”

Another way of steering is to lift one of the ski and place it down in the direction in which one wishes to go, at the same time striking out with the other foot as in skating. This accomplishment is not exactly pretty, but it is very useful. One can thus help the ski round a bend in a road or thread one’s way down a gentle slope amongst trees without losing speed. It is, however, impossible to execute a very rapid turn in this manner. A good way of practising “skating” is to do a sort of “inside edge” on any firm surface (_e.g._, a snow-covered lake) on the level. One strikes out with the ski in the same manner as with skates on ice.

BRAKING WITH THE STICK.

This method of controlling the speed has been the subject of a good deal of discussion. The objections to it are (1) that it is a less powerful method than any of the others to be mentioned later on; (2) that it requires greater strength; (3) that the stick is liable to break and leave the runner helpless; (4) that _its constant use is conducive to a bad style of running, spoiling the balance, and making the learning of the other movements more difficult_. Nevertheless, we doubt whether even the cleverest novice will be able to stop quickly by means of the “Telemark” or “Christiania” swings for at least a month or two, and most people will take far longer to learn to do them even moderately well. How, then, are the poor things to manage in the meantime? “By snow-ploughing and by stemming,” you reply. Certainly, but the fact is that with these methods when no stick is used it is quite impossible, when travelling very fast, to stop suddenly, though with the help of the stick it is easy to do so.

But we will here go a step further and assert that there are places and conditions of snow where the use of the stick becomes imperative even to the expert, as, for example, when traversing a steep and crusted slope with a precipice below it. We propose therefore, to deal with the proper way of managing it before proceeding further.

_The important thing to remember in using the stick is to hold it quite short_, and _as far in front as possible_. Do not let it drag behind.

The accompanying diagrams illustrate a right and a wrong method. Note that in (1) the left forearm and hand of the runner should rest against the inside of the shin of his left (advanced) leg. The left hand serves as a fulcrum, the long end of the lever being held in the right. Considerable power may be obtained in this manner, but it is not always feasible on lumpy ground. You must use your own judgment as to when to employ it, bearing in mind the above principle. But, above all things, do not assume the position depicted in (2). Here, even though the entire weight of the body rests on the stick, its braking value (owing to the angle at which it touches the snow) is very slight. In this position the ski gradually slide further and further ahead, leaving the stick, with the runner clinging to it, further and further behind; all balance and all control are lost, and as soon as a little inequality is met with a spill occurs.

There exists a way of sitting with the _thigh_ on the pole (_not_ with the junction of the legs) for braking on narrow, steep, and icy roads, where all other means are simply out of the question (see Fig. 20); and for the successful execution of this manœuvre it is necessary to note the following points very carefully. Assuming one wishes to sit on the left thigh, then the left hand grasps the end of the pole which protrudes below. Let this hand be close to the seat, and let the part of the stick between hand and point be as short as possible. The right hand _rests on the right knee_, and seizes the upper end of the pole. This is important, for it is the use of the knee as a support for the upper hand which gives rigidity to the whole arrangement and allows one to hold out over long distances. The leg--the one on which one sits (in the example to the left)--is stretched out in front, and by shifting the weight from the ski to the point of the pole one can stop instantly, even on clear ice.

SNOW-PLOUGHING.

We now come to a better method of stopping and braking. Snow-ploughing is used for reducing the pace and stopping _when running straight down_. In principle it is very simple, and it is quite easy to learn. The heels of the ski are pressed apart, and the toes held together, by which means a V-shaped kind of plough is formed, the friction of which against the snow causes one to stop. The wider the angle of the V the greater, of course, will be the braking power. The weight is distributed evenly between the two ski, and when the snow is hard both are turned slightly on to their inner edges. When the snow is soft it is best to hold them flat. The method is particularly serviceable on a hard road, and under such conditions, even when travelling fast, it can be employed quite suddenly without fear of accidents. But on soft snow any attempt to use it when running fast will result in the ski crossing and a fall forwards. Under such conditions nobody has strength enough to hold the ski apart. One must accordingly stop (by some other means) and then, if one wishes to proceed slowly, place the ski in the V-shaped position and restart.

_Photo by E. C. Richardson._]

The stick is a useful adjunct to snow-ploughing, and Fig. 21 shows a serviceable way of holding it.

SIDE-SLIPPING.

On _very_ steep slopes, especially if such be icy, it is sometimes necessary to slip down sideways. This is simply accomplished by holding the ski at right angles to the fall of the slope and keeping them _flat_ on the snow (or ice-crust) instead of edging them. The stick is held in the snow above the runner, and assists him in preserving his balance, for the motion is necessarily somewhat irregular. Side-slipping is, however, nothing but a method of descending a dangerous slope where snow-ploughing, “stemming,” &c. (see _infra_), are out of the question. It is not amusing or pretty, but merely occasionally useful.

STEMMING.

Stemming is akin to snow-ploughing, and by some German writers the stemming position is termed the half-snow-plough position. It is a most valuable way of reducing the speed when _traversing_ a slope which one does not desire to, or cannot, descend straight, and it is also of great service for turning and stopping under all circumstances. Whilst of ancient origin and known to all good Norwegian runners, stemming is but little used in Norway. The chief reasons for this are that the ground in that country is not in general steep enough to necessitate traversing, and that most Norwegians are from early childhood familiar with the more difficult Telemark and Christiania swings. On the Continent, however, the ground is usually steeper and the skill of the runner less, and there stemming has been found to be very useful. We have no hesitation in recommending the beginner to learn it at this stage if he wants to tour as soon as possible, and eventually to become a good all-round ski-runner.

At Lilienfeld, a small village near Vienna, stemming was hit upon, quite independently, by a Herr Zdarsky (an Austrian gentleman to whom we have already referred), who turned a philosophical mind to its scientific development. The description which we give of it is practically the same as that given in his book. Herr Zdarsky recommends the use of his own special binding, and employs a shortish, smooth-bottomed ski with a bluff entrance. We have found, however, that the movements can be made with any good firm binding and with any ski, though they are undoubtedly easier, both to learn and to accomplish, on a flat-bottomed short ski, than on a relatively long and grooved ski. (See p. 32.)

In learning stemming one distinguishes between the “glider” (the sliding ski) and the “braker” (the stemming ski). On a hillside the glider is the upper of the two. The glider must point in the direction in which one wishes to go. The lower ski, the braker, is kept a little behind the other, so as to prevent the glider crossing it, and is held in the position shown in the above diagram (Fig. 22). In order to ensure smooth and accurate progress it is highly important to remember to _keep both ski flat on the snow_.

Begin by running obliquely across and down a good steep slope in this position, _keeping all the weight of the body on the glider, and merely brushing the snow lightly with the braker_. Choose a gradient of sufficient steepness to keep you moving at a rate of, say, three or four miles an hour, and endeavour to run smoothly and to keep in a straight line.

In practising this you will discover that by pressing more or less on the braker you can turn up-hill, stop, or go slow, just as you please. We accordingly formulate directions for so doing.

TO TURN UP-HILL.--Press lightly on the braker, edging it into the snow.

TO STOP.--Press hard, and turn the body up-hill. You will find yourself come round with a swing. This method of stopping can, of course, be used anywhere--_e.g._, on the level after running straight down, where, if one wishes to stop by (say) a turn to the right, one stems with the left ski, at the same time turning the body to the right.

TO SLIGHTLY REDUCE THE SPEED.--Press a little on the braker without altering your direction.

Practise these three things patiently, constantly remembering the injunctions: Glider flat! Weight on glider! (or on braker, to stop!) Lean forward! Heels apart! Points together! (which latter means that one must keep the tip of the braker close to the _side_ of the glider, and about a foot behind its tip).

On hard snow both ski will have to be edged so as to afford a grip on the impenetrable surface and to prevent side-slip. And between the extremes of the softest and the hardest snow the runner will discover many instances where he may have to edge the braker a little while going. But let him, all the same, interpret these remarks as absolutely as he can, and always try hard to hold the ski _as flat as possible_.

_Practise on steep ground_, because there mistakes are more easily discovered, and the correct way soon proclaims its advantages.

Fig. 23 illustrates the proper position for the ski in stemming. The arrow “s” is the fall of the slope, for the reader is looking straight at the mountain; “d” is the direction in which the runner wishes to go obliquely across this slope. This direction is on the whole that of the glider “g.” The braker “b” brushes the snow with its entire length, thus producing a _broad_ track, the direct evidence of the braking power--_i.e._, friction. Therefore, weight _off_ the braker for going, _on_ for stopping. The steeper the slope the wider must be the angle formed by the two ski. The little circle “p” shows whereabouts the point of the pole should be--that is, a little behind the upper foot.

The pole may be used to facilitate balance when executing these movements, its point lightly furrowing the snow. It will also be found to considerably assist a sudden stop, for by pressing it into the ground and throwing all the weight on to the braker the glider becomes entirely disengaged, and there is less chance of its crossing the braker, as is otherwise apt to happen when running very fast. Hold the pole fairly short, do not lean back on it, and do not use it more than is really necessary.

TO MAKE A DOWN-HILL CURVE.

The foregoing section gave the beginner directions for turning quickly up-hill, but how shall he, when crossing a steep slope, turn quickly down-hill and, without stopping, continue his traverse in the opposite direction?

To do this is evidently a most valuable accomplishment, for if the runner cannot achieve it he is obliged at the end of his traverse to stop and turn as described on p. 55 before he can start off again on the other tack.

_A circular curve to the left._

(=O= represents the =pole=.)

This is the fall of the Slope.

=1.=--You are coming obliquely from above, in the direction of the arrow “_d_.” First give a vigorous stem with the lower ski “_b_.” Then

=2.=--Let your body sink forward to the left; pull heels more apart.

=3.=--Now you are looking straight down the slope. Just before this moment you had time to change your stick over. _Both ski flat. Weight on ski nearest this print._ Note the position for the pole.

=4.=--Coming into stemming “right.”

=5.=--_Done._ Continuing your way stemming “right.”]

Here is the easiest way to learn.

First reduce the speed by a vigorous “stem,” _taking care not to turn up-hill_ in so doing. Then, keeping _both_ ski rigidly _flat_ and holding the heels far apart and the points of the ski close together, turn the body down-hill. LEAN FORWARD, AND THROW ALL THE WEIGHT ON TO THE OUTSIDE (LOWER) SKI.

You will then, if you have followed these directions _in every particular_, come round with a delightful swish and find yourself starting off comfortably in the other direction.

Change the stick to the other side of the body when about half round, because at that instant one is almost stationary for half a second or so.

The more one pulls the heels apart the shorter and neater the curve will be.

If success does not follow, it is due to some mistake, such as not leaning forward (one will then sit down), or edging the ski (they catch in the snow and overthrow the runner), or not tearing the heels sufficiently apart and throwing the weight on to the lower ski (which causes one to go off at a tangent instead of completing the arc).

The words of command for the curve are, then: Lean forward! Ski flat! Heels apart! Weight on the lower ski!

The diagrams pp. 73 and 75 should be of assistance in enabling the beginner to understand what is meant. On a really steep hill it requires a considerable amount of nerve to make up one’s mind to plunge for an instant headlong downwards. One’s natural inclination is to hang back and lean inwards, but this is precisely what one must not do.

The stick will be found to be of considerable assistance in making this curve, a little touch with it in the snow just as one is coming round being a great help to the balance. When shifting it across as above described, hold it rather short and place it in the snow well _in front of you_. This will assist you in leaning forward. Do not, however, attempt to spin round leaning on it; to do so throws the weight inside, which is quite fatal. It is, of course, perfectly possible to make the turn without a stick at all, but to do so is difficult on very steep ground. Practise on a moderate slope to begin with; when you become proficient move on to steeper and yet steeper places; but, of course, look out for avalanches!

Coming down a long and complicated slope one joins one curve to another without a break, thus dodging the trees and rocks. On a steep incline, if there are obstacles in the way of a straight descent, the S-track, as it is called, affords a safe reduction of speed and a prolongation of the pleasurable slide.

The ski-runner who has reached this stage enjoys himself wherever there is snow, even if there be little of it, for he can circumvent the patches where it has melted away. The photograph on the opposite page shows what can be done after a single winter’s patient practice. It is a “snake-line” made in the winter of 1903 by one of the writers of this chapter, and by no means an accomplishment requiring more than ordinary skill or talent. The slope in question descends from Alp Laret, near St. Moritz, to the valley in which lies the world-famed Cresta toboggan run. The gradient is between 40 deg. and 50 deg. (55 deg. to 60 deg. near the top), and the vertical distance from top to bottom amounts to exactly 300 metres (1,000ft.). The small avalanche about the middle was started by the ski of the runner, and the marks and remains of older avalanches on the left give sufficient testimony as to the steepness of the spot. The length of the run must be at least half a mile, and the entire distance was covered without a single fall or stumble. May the beginner draw the proper conclusion: that where there’s a will there’s a way, and that both in this case are within the reach of the ordinary individual who can walk, row, shoot, ride, play tennis, cricket, or football.

What is it that makes the votary of the slender plank count the shortening days, and greet with boyish glee the slowly falling flakes? What makes him tremble with excitement at the sight of the whitening hills? It is the memory of past delights, the impatience to taste them again. He sees himself on the top of the mountain. From his feet a vista of stately firs on a slope of dazzling white stretches away into the valley a thousand feet below. Above, the clear blue sky. Off he goes! For ten minutes the swish of the spurting snow is sweet music to his ears; for ten minutes he scorns the soaring albatross, as he feels himself buoyed by the feathering ski, swaying from curve to curve. The excitement of the start has left him, and though ten minutes may seem a short time he enjoys them to the full, for he is calm, and glides easily, without a show of strength, without effort or strain. He feels the mighty power of the rush, the living force which is gathering as he flies, which drives him along, but which is nevertheless under his absolute control. He toys with the weight that impels him; by small movements of his ski he steers and directs the energy within. He can make the snow yield like water, or resist like steel. He is swung from turn to turn, irresistibly, but with safe and stately motion, by the force which he commands; he feels himself rocking softly, like the petrel on the waves.

_Photo by W. R. Rickmers._]

Then comes the end; the stream at the bottom is near. A sudden twist; a swirling cloud of white, and, as the crystals settle glittering in the sun, there one sees him firm and erect, the ruler of the mountain, the master of the snow and ski!

THE “TELEMARK” SWING.

We now come to other more rapid, more brilliant, and more difficult methods of turning and coming to a sudden standstill. The stemming turn can hardly be performed quickly when running very fast without the aid of the stick, especially when long grooved ski are used. But with the “Telemark” and “Christiania” swings, about to be described, a good runner can stop suddenly almost anywhere when travelling much faster. It is indeed a worthy sight to see such a one come sailing past, his every sinew as pliable and strong as the good ash beneath his feet, yielding to each dip, as a smart racing vessel yields to the waves. Twenty-five miles an hour he is travelling, and not a furlong less. To stop suddenly at such a speed seems impossible. But, swish! and he is round as easily and as quickly as you can read these words. How was it done? It was all so rapid you could not follow. You saw a little sinking on one knee--perhaps not even that. The snow hid nearly everything. You slide up to our friend and ask him to show you what he did. He will be most polite and most anxious for you to learn--especially if he be a Norwegian, as will almost certainly prove to be the fact. You will be shown just how to place your feet, and just how to bend the knees, and just how to lean the body. And you will start off and fail hopelessly again and again. By and by, however, especially if your teacher be an intelligent man who has had previous experience with beginners, you will begin to understand the knack of the movement, and by the end of the afternoon you should be rewarded by some measure of success.

But perhaps you may not be fortunate enough to meet with such a runner, or, what is by no means improbable, it may be that, though a clever performer on ski, he is not a good instructor. He makes the swing, but knows not himself how he does it. And small blame to him, for how many people trouble to analyse the things they have learnt as children?

We venture to offer our services. But is it possible to learn these subtle manœuvres from a book? Most certainly it is; but you must either take it with you into the field, or else (what is as good, or better) have some preliminary practice in your bed-room, where you will have only your looking-glass for an audience, and no small boy in the immediate neighbourhood to point the finger of scorn. If you do this, we are sure that you will learn very quickly, or if you fail, then our instructions must be wrong. If, however, you simply glance through what we have written without making practical experiments, book in hand, we can accept no responsibility. These turns are really not at all hard to make fairly well, which is all that we can pretend to teach; but to make them with certainty requires long practice. And that is, of course, entirely your own affair.

We propose to deal with the “Telemark” first--not because it is easier or more useful, for in this respect there is little to choose between them, but because it is customary to do so. Besides, the Telemark is a much prettier swing than the “Christiania,” and it will make a greater impression on your admiring friends should you be so lucky as to succeed in making one when showing off.

You will not find your stick (on which we trust you are not in the habit of riding) of the slightest assistance to you in _learning_ either of these swings. It _may_ help you a little to _make_ the Christiania once you have acquired the knack of it, but we are very doubtful even about that, and we strongly advise that from now on you do not use it at all. Hold it in your hand, except when jumping, as previously recommended (p. 45), but make no attempt to use it.

Each of these swings can be made in two directions--to right or to left; and each has its special use for special occasions. Apart, therefore, from being a graceful accomplishment and from the excellent practice it affords, it is of considerable practical value to be able to make all four of them. Nevertheless, most people are content with one of each kind--a Telemark to the left and a Christiania to the right--which enables them under ordinary conditions to turn in either direction without changing the foot (see _infra_). But the best runners can make all four swings, and we recommend you to emulate their example.

The Telemark swing is easiest in loose snow, where there is little side slip. We find it rather easier on the level than the Christiania (_e.g._, to stop after making a jump), but it is more difficult to make quickly on a hillside, and in general it is not quite so rapid as the Christiania.

Fig. 27 (_a_) shows the position in which the body and limbs are held throughout a Telemark swing to the left. It is convenient to call this position the Telemark position. Fig. 27 (_b_) shows the position which the ski assume after the swing is over.

The following directions are for making a Telemark swing to the left.

The directions for making a Telemark swing to the right are identically the same, substituting left for right and right for left throughout.

TO MAKE A TELEMARK SWING TO THE LEFT.--(_a_) From the normal position for running down (see p. 63) advance the right ski till the right ankle is opposite the bend of the left ski. Raise the heel of the left foot off the left ski, bend the left knee, and throw all the weight forward on to the right foot. (This is what we mean by “the Telemark position.”) (_b_) Place the right ski slightly on its left edge and turn and lean the whole body to the left.

If these directions are correctly carried out, the runner will come round with a sweep, the sharpness of which will depend upon the force with which he turns his body as advised in (_b_).

An excellent way of learning this turn is to practise running straight down hill in the Telemark position. Note especially to raise the heel of the left foot as shown. This is highly important, and is, in fact, the key to the whole affair, for if the runner raises his heel he is almost compelled to throw the weight forward on to the right foot, and if he can once succeed in doing this everything else is comparatively easy. So remember to _raise the heel of the left foot and to kneel well down on the left ski_. Cultivate as narrow a spoor as possible, and as soon as you can run straight like this at a moderate speed try turning the body ever such a little. _Look the way you wish to go._ You will be delighted to discover what a small amount of turning will cause you to come round very quickly.

To compensate for the centrifugal force exercised by the turn on the upper part of the body, you will have to lean inwards; in fact, after you begin to get the knack of the thing, you are pretty certain to be thrown outwards once or twice. But do not trouble about that too much; _do not at first make any conscious effort to lean inwards_, or you will probably fall in that direction; you will very soon begin to compensate for the outward throw quite unconsciously.

Do not try to turn too quickly when learning, but rather take matters easily; _speed will come by and by_--in which connection note that both the “Telemark” and the “Christiania” are _swings_ and _not jerks_, and that, however rapidly they be performed, the body should be turned _crescendo_ and _not_ (to continue the music metaphor) _sforzando_.

Another capital way of practising is to stand on some level space at the edge of a steep hill in the position shown in Fig. 27 (_a_) and then to slip over the edge and instantly to begin to swing. This method will allow you to practise a great number of swings in a short time without the trouble of walking a long way up-hill in order to gain speed. The following diagram shows graphically how to do so:--

The “Telemark” swing can also be used to make down-hill turns in the manner described above, p. 72, and the principles there given hold good here, except that the “Telemark” position, instead of the stemming position, is held throughout.

A succession of S turns made in this way looks very pretty, but on a very steep hill their execution becomes rather uncertain, for the snow, unless perfect, is apt to slip irregularly, and with a true “Telemark” the stick is no use to help matters out. We have found, however, that a sort of half-stemming, half-“Telemark” position plus a little stick is useful in inducing long ski to come round.

THE “CHRISTIANIA” SWING.