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.

Fig. 12.

On a hill-side 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.). 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.

Fig. 13.

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.

Fig. 14.

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 VIIa., 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.

Fig. 15.

Downhill kick-turn.

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 half-way 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.

Fig. 16.

Zigzagging without turning.

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.

Fig. 17.

Half side-stepping; a right, b wrong.

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.

Fig. 18.

Side-stepping.

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.

Fig. 19.

Herring-boning.

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 manœuvres 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 manœuvres 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 manœuvres 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.)

Fig. 20.

Edging and flattening.

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.

Fig. 21.

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.

Fig. 22.

Moreover, since during a turn the runner must lean inwards to keep his balance, the ski cannot remain in its normal position in relation to the leg unless it is more or less edged inwards (Fig. 22, a). That the leg and ski should remain as nearly as possible in their normal relative positions is an advantage, for the more nearly they do so the less is the strain on the ankle. If the weighted ski is held quite flat during a turn in which it is outermost, that ankle is placed in a very unstable position (Fig. 22, b), and is liable to give way and so edge the ski on that side towards which it is moving (Fig. 22, c); it will then cut more deeply into the snow and be brought instantly to a standstill.

Fig. 23.

In all that I have said so far about side-slip, I have assumed that the ski is moving more or less broadside on, with its heel travelling outside the track of its tip and its pivoting point well forward, and this is what either one or both skis actually do during the greater part of any swing or turn; for, in turning, a ski usually passes through the positions of either b or c, Fig. 23. A ski may also, as, for instance, in turning downwards from a slow traverse, move so that the curve in which its point travels is outside that of the heel (Fig. 23, d) and its pivoting point is near the heel. In each of these cases, though one end is side-slipping faster than the other, both ends are slipping to the same side, and the ski, as I have said, has therefore to be edged to the opposite side.

If, however, the ski begins to turn as in d, and finishes as in b or c, it must of course be edged first to one side and then to the other, as in e, and for a moment be flat. At this moment the pivoting point of the ski is at its centre, and its heel is side-slipping in one direction as much as its point is in the other, as in a. If ever, therefore, a ski, in turning, continues to pivot on its centre (Fig. 23, a) instead of only doing so for a moment, it must obviously be held quite flat, as otherwise either one end or the other will cut below the surface of the snow and be checked suddenly.

Now the pivoting point of a ski is never behind its centre except during a downward turn, and the faster the runner is moving before the turn, and the sharper the turn is made, the more quickly this point moves to the front; the only case, I believe, in which it remains near the centre for an appreciable time, and when, therefore, the ski has to be held deliberately flat, being that of the outer ski during a “steered” Christiania swing.

In order to facilitate side-slip, therefore, the outer edge of the ski must usually be raised as it turns or, even if at first the inner edge must be raised, a change of edge must usually take place almost immediately. The flat position, in fact, must never be sustained—except, as I have said, during a Christiania “steered” swing, and even then only for a short time—it is simply a necessary incident in a change of edge.

In each figure in Diagram 23 the dotted line with arrows shows the average direction of the ski’s course at each point, and whether, therefore, it must be edged or flat.

The foregoing remarks are an explanation of how the edging or flattening of the ski can be made to help the side-slip; the next thing is to understand how the side-slip can be made to help the ski to turn sharply.

If, when either standing still on the side of a slope or running across it in the normal, edged position, a ski is partially flattened, it will begin to slip sideways—in the first case moving directly downhill, and in the second obliquely, i.e. forwards as well as sideways.

Now the foot stands on the ski at about halfway between the front bend and the heel—that is to say, about the middle of that part of the blade which rests on the snow; and as long as the runner’s weight is placed equally on toe and heel, a ski in side-slipping will continue to point in a direction parallel to that in which it was pointing when the side-slip began.

When, however, the runner’s weight is placed on the heel, that end of the ski will side-slip faster than the other, and the farther the ski slips the more it will point uphill; while when the weight is placed on the toe the reverse will happen.

Fig. 24 shows what will happen if a ski, when (a, b, c) at rest on, or (d, e, f) running across a slope, is made to side-slip with the runner’s weight variously distributed. In this and succeeding diagrams the blackened portions of the skis are those on which the runner’s weight is put.

Fig. 24.

In a the ski slips broadside on downhill.

In b it gradually revolves as it slips, and would finish by running downhill backwards if its shape did not prevent it from doing so.

In c its rotation is reversed, and it finally runs straight downhill.

In d it runs slightly sideways, but the direction of its course is a straight line.

In e it turns uphill and at a certain point stops.

In f it at first turns and finally runs straight downhill.

The side-slip can be stopped more or less quickly at any stage by the runner strongly edging the ski and at the same time again equalising the distribution of his weight on it.

Whether the ski then runs on in the direction in which it is pointing, or comes to a standstill, of course depends on whether it is pointing downhill or not.

It is obvious, then, that when a ski is in motion across a slope the runner, by means of the side-slip, can make it turn in either direction and to any extent up to a certain limit, and can in this way either come to a standstill, slightly alter his direction, or run straight downhill. It is equally obvious that no matter what means are employed for starting a turn (there are more ways of doing so than I have yet described), the distribution of the runner’s weight on the ski or skis which carry it may make all the difference to the success or failure of the manœuvre.

I have already said that when a ski is running straight downhill it may be made to turn by the runner jerking it somewhat broadside on. He can of course do the same with the two skis, but a simpler plan is for him to stand on one, point the other more or less in the direction in which he wants to go, and hold it so for a moment. It is thus of course made to “stem”—in other words, to side-slip—and, if the runner then throws his weight on to its heel, it can, as we have just seen, be made to turn still further, the previously weighted one being again brought parallel with it as it does so. A turn can also be started from a traverse in the same way.

When one ski is held at an angle with the other in order to start a turn in the above way, the relative position of the two usually produces some steering effect; the two skis in fact act together something like a boat and rudder. To say that one ski may be looked upon as the boat and the other as the rudder is hardly accurate, for the steering effect is at its greatest when, as the runner’s weight is shifted from the ski that is running straight ahead to the one that is held sideways, it rests equally on both; at which moment, since their area is equal, either of the skis may equally well be looked upon as the rudder or as the boat. If, however, it is remembered that the boat steers the rudder no less than the rudder steers the boat, and that if the rudder is fixed in a certain position, it and the boat together may be considered as one solid object whose shape determines whether and how it is able to turn, one may, by comparing the skis with a boat and rudder, understand whether and how, when held in various relative positions, they are able to turn.

The diagram shows the skis as they are held at the beginning of—a, a Telemark, b, a Stemming turn, and c, a Christiania. It also shows a boat turning to the left steered by both a bow and a stern rudder.

Fig. 25.

The darkened ski of each pair is the weighted one.

The steering action of the skis may be best understood by considering the blackened parts of each pair (in which the steering effect is neutral) as the sides of a boat, and the light point and heel of each pair as a bow and stern rudder respectively. It will then be seen that the boat is in each case helped to turn to the left by the action of both rudders, or that if it can in some way be made to turn to the left without the help of the rudders, they will at least not hinder it—than which, as a matter of fact, little more can be said in the case of the Telemark; though in the Stemming turn there is a strong steering action while the skis remain in this position, and a distinct, if weak, one in the Christiania.

The principal factors, then, in the control and steering of the skis are the edging or flattening of them, the distribution of the weight on them, and the placing of them in certain positions in relation to each other. How these various factors interact during the different swings, turns, &c., will be explained more fully in subsequent chapters, but before closing this one I want to give some explanation of how a turn on skis depends as to its character on whether the ski at the moment of beginning the turn is running straight down the hill or across it, on whether the speed is high or low, and the slope steep or gentle, and also on the quality of the snow.

The accompanying diagram shows the successive positions assumed by a ski (the leading one, the other is not shown) during a turn to the right, under various conditions.

The line passing through the middle of the skis shows the curve on which the runner himself travels during the turn; the line ending in a double arrow shows the sort of curve on which he would travel if the ski were able to cut round without side-slip as a skate does. It will be seen that if there were no side-slip he would in every case move steadily to the right of the line of his original course (shown by a dotted line in the diagram), but that, on account of the side-slip, the line on which he travels sometimes moves only slightly to the right of that line, even when the turn itself is a sharp one, that sometimes it moves to the left of it and then recrosses it, and that sometimes it remains entirely on the left of it throughout the turn. To understand how, according to the conditions, the curve of the runners actual course varies, is a great help to the balance, for at first one’s instinct is to balance the body as if the ski were cutting round like a skate, i.e. to lean inwards too much, which, of course, inevitably results in a fall.

In every case the turn is supposed to be made as sharply as the conditions allow. It will be seen that on hard snow the runner, when travelling fast, will skid almost directly sideways for some distance from the spot where he actually finishes turning.

Fig. 26.

a, b, c, d are turns made while the runner is travelling straight downhill, or, which amounts to the same thing, while he is running on the level at the end of a downhill slide. e, f, g, h are turns made while the runner is descending a slope obliquely. a to f are what are known as uphill turns, which bring the runner to a standstill; g and h are downhill ones, which enable him to join one tack to another when descending a hill in zigzags.

If anyone who has done no ski-ing at all reads this chapter, he will, no doubt, think it very complicated; but if, while actually learning to ski, and especially while learning the turns, he looks through it from time to time, I think he will soon understand whatever is not quite clear, and will, I hope, find that it helps him to correct his mistakes and to understand and remember his instructions.

STRAIGHT-RUNNING

Cleaning Skis.—Before attempting to start, you must make sure that your skis will slide.

In thawy weather, or very strong sunshine, the snow may stick to their under surfaces—so badly, sometimes, that sliding is out of the question. But it is seldom quite impossible to slide, and under conditions which seem hopeless to a beginner one can generally get started, if one knows how to set about it. When once under weigh the great thing is to keep moving, for the moment the skis stop sliding the snow will stick again, and the whole cleaning process described below must be repeated.

In snow which is only slightly sticky you need merely stamp your skis hard once or twice, and rub them firmly backwards and forwards on the hardened snow until you can feel that they are quite slippery. Then slide off at once.

If the snow sticks badly, the skis must be scraped on each other (unless there are any branches or hard objects lying about which will do as well). To do this on level ground is easy; on the side of a hill rather less so.

Suppose you are obliged to start your run on the hillside and wish to scrape your skis.

First stand with your skis pointing across the slope, and, by vigorously stamping or jumping, make as hard a place to stand in as possible.

If you are standing with your right side to the hill, and want to scrape the right ski, rest your left ski on its right (inside) edge, lift round the right ski, and put it across the other one, at right angles to it, just behind the left foot and pointing directly uphill. Then scrape it hard up and down across the raised outer edge of the left ski, bending the left knee well and crouching down so as to get a long scrape from the heel right up to the bend of the right ski (Plate XI.). When the ski feels perfectly smooth, lift it round again parallel to the other ski, and without resting it on the snow for an instant stamp and rub it backwards and forwards until it is as slippery as possible and the snow beneath it as hard and smooth as you can make it. Then, and not until then, you can rest the ski on the snow, placing it on its right (outer) edge and doing your best to prevent its sole from touching the snow. Now, with your weight on the right ski, but still holding it well on its edge, face downhill, lift round the left ski, put it across the heel of the other one, pointing downhill, and, crouching well down as before, scrape it clean on the inside edge of the other (Plate XII.); this time it is the heel of the ski which it is difficult to get at. Then bring it round to the side of the right ski, repeat the stamping and rubbing process, and place it carefully on its inside edge. Now start instantly. (How to do so is explained later.)

If the snow is very bad indeed, it is best, when on tour, before beginning the descent, to take off the skis, scrape and wipe them absolutely clean, and dry them thoroughly in the sun or air—but not, if you can help it, by standing them upright in the snow, for if they are wet the water will run down and form ice at the heel ends. Then wax and polish them well, let their soles cool in the shade if they are warm from the sun, and put them on. You will probably be able to slide off without trouble; or, if it is still necessary to scrape and rub them, they will become clean more easily.

This scraping sounds an elaborate and wearisome process, and so it is. Fortunately it is not often necessary; but, when the snow is really bad, it is an enormous saving of time and trouble in the end to attend minutely to every detail, and may be the only means of getting a run at all.

It is not unusual to see a beginner refuse to get his skis thoroughly clean, under the impression that the slower pace will make things easier for him. He could not make a greater mistake. If he leaves any snow sticking to his skis they will certainly move slowly (unless they refuse to slide altogether), but they will do so with an irregular, jerky motion which is ten times more upsetting than the fastest movement of polished skis.

Starting.—To start from the top of a hill is a simple matter. You walk to the edge and slide over in any direction you choose.

On the side of a slope, however, there is a difficulty in starting a run straight downhill owing to the fact that, as you move the skis round, they begin to slide before you are facing the way you wish to go.

One way to overcome this difficulty is as follows: Suppose you are standing at right angles to the fall of the slope, with the hill on your right, and wish to start to run straight downhill.

First move both skis round a little way, so that, like the left ski in Plate XIII., they point downhill as directly as possible without actually slipping. Then, putting all the weight on the left ski, lift the right ski and place it on the snow, pointing straight downhill, its tip being just in front of and below the tip of the other one, as in the photograph. The weight should still be on the left ski. If there is any sign of slipping, you can stop it by turning the skis on to their inside edges and pressing outwards against them with the legs.

You are now quite steady and ready to start. In order to do so you merely have to throw all your weight on to the right foot and to lean well forward, downhill. The right ski will at once slide off, the right foot will strike and push forward the point of the left ski, which will, if left to itself, come round, and fall into what, as will appear later, is its proper position close to the side of the other.

Another simple and frequently used method of starting downhill from the horizontal position is to jump round. The same points are to be noticed as when using a jump in the place of a kick-turn. Bring the feet level, spring from the ball of the foot, press the knees as well as the feet together, hold the skis parallel, and don’t let their heels drop. You must land leaning well forward, so that the general direction of the body and legs is at right angles to the slope, not vertical, otherwise the skis will run from under you.

This jump round is easier than the first one described, being only a quarter-turn, while the other is a half-turn.

Straight-running.—As you begin to slide, place yourself in the position of Plates XIV. and XV., which is the normal one for running downhill—skis held in contact, so that they leave a single track; one ski about a foot in advance of the other; the advanced leg almost straight at the knee, the other more bent; nearly all the weight on the back foot; the inside of the front knee pressed against the kneecap of the other; body erect; arms hanging easily by the sides; stick, or sticks, if carried, held clear of the snow.

Hold yourself perfectly easily and without stiffness, especially at the knees, which should give to the inequalities of the ground. It is far better to stand too loosely, and sway about somewhat, than to keep every muscle tense.

You can keep the skis together without effort by bending the knees and ankles well inwards, so as to place the skis slightly on their inside edges; they will then tend to run together rather than to separate. Take the greatest care to avoid any approach to a bow-legged position, which would edge the skis outwards. There should be no daylight visible between your knees to a person standing in front of you.

If you should find the skis running wide apart with the weight equally on both, don’t try to force them together, but throw all your weight on to one ski, and then you will be able to move back the other quite easily to its proper position.

Carry the stick, or sticks, as shown in the photographs (Plates XIV. and XV.). On no account hold a single stick (or the two sticks placed together) in both hands. If you feel the smallest tendency to do so, practise at first with nothing in your hands.

This will save you from acquiring the habit of falling into the deplorable attitude shown in Plate XVI., or the almost equally bad one in which the stick is held out in front transversely like a balancing pole, ready for the teeth of its owner if he happens to pitch forwards.

If their weight or length makes it difficult to keep the sticks clear of the snow when held by the ends, hold them rather nearer the middle, but not much nearer or they will be more likely to hurt you if you fall.

Don’t hold out the arms horizontally from the shoulders, for that is tiring and ungraceful.

The knees, as I said, should give to small inequalities of the ground; but as you are almost sure instinctively to stiffen them a little when you find yourself approaching a bump or hollow which looks likely to upset your balance, it is as well to bend or straighten them voluntarily according to circumstances. As you go over a mound, for instance, bend the knees and let the body sink; if it is necessary to sink low, raise the heel of the back foot and let more weight fall on the advanced one. As you cross a hollow, straighten the knees and rise as high as you can. In this way the pressure of the skis on the snow will vary but little and the unevenness of the ground will scarcely be felt. The feeling will be that of moving steadily and smoothly along, lifting the skis over the hillocks, and pressing them down into the hollows. A spectator who can only see your head and body should hardly know that the ground over which you are moving is not perfectly smooth.

In this way you can negotiate short variations of gradient where the general angle of the slope remains constant. In the case of larger inequalities, or where the general angle of the slope changes, you must alter your procedure. The line from your centre of gravity to its point of support must always be at right angles to the surface of the slope, so, where the ground becomes steeper, you will have to lean more forward, and less so where it becomes less steep. But though you will have to tilt yourself forward consciously as you pass on to a steeper slope, you may safely leave to unconscious instinct the backward lean in the opposite case. If you try to lean backward consciously, you are almost certain to overdo it and to sit down.

There is a further safeguard in the case of sudden changes of gradient, very rough ground, snow of varying consistency which alternately checks and accelerates the speed, and, in fact, anything which makes it difficult to keep the balance-that is, to drop into what is generally known as the “Telemark” position (Plates XVII., XVIII., XIX.), because it is the one held during the swing of that name.

To assume this attitude, you shift the weight from the back foot to the advanced one, and then sink down, leaning the body forwards, bending both knees, and sliding the back ski still farther back until its bend is level with the leading ankle.

Practically all your weight should then be upon the leading foot, and upon its heel, no less than its toes. To make sure of this, the advanced leg must be bent at the knee almost to a right angle, and the knee must be kept well forward, so that the leg, from the knee downwards, will be at right angles to the ski, no matter how steep may be the slope.

If the front foot is thrust forward in advance of the knee, too much weight will fall on the toe (unlikely as it may appear) and, moreover, some weight will be thrown on the back foot, which should carry next to none. Let the back knee drop until quite close to the ski (when crossing uneven ground it will very likely touch it) and raise the heel of the back foot as far as possible. That leg should then be perfectly relaxed and easy. Keep the skis close together as before, so that they leave a single track, by edging them a trifle inwards and pressing both knees, especially the back one, well inwards so that, seen from in front or behind, they overlap.

Practise running in this position with either foot leading, taking care to keep the weight well on the front foot. It is an indispensable accomplishment; and although at first it may not seem so easy a position as the normal one, it is such a help to the balance that later on you must be on your guard or you may contract the bad habit of running constantly in this position when there is no real need for it.

In this position not only is the centre of gravity lowered, but the base of support is considerably lengthened, and the fore and aft stability is thus enormously increased. By means of it you will be able to move with perfect steadiness over ground which would almost inevitably upset you if you were to stand up in the normal position.

In this, just as in the normal position, you can consciously raise and lower yourself to allow for uneven ground, by bending or straightening the advanced leg; but this will seldom be necessary, except for very abrupt inequalities.

Even sudden changes of speed have little power to disturb your balance when you are running in this attitude. If the gradient suddenly becomes much steeper, as in Plates XVIII. and XIX., you should give a determined plunge forwards, as though trying to get ahead of your skis. If, however, you are taken by surprise, and run suddenly on to an invisible icy patch or over a steep drop in bad light, you will probably at the worst only find your weight thrown on to the back foot, and will be able to recover yourself. On the other hand, if the speed is checked and you are thrown forwards, the back foot will tend to rise into the air, and, receiving the weight of the ski, will most likely just save you. If the check is so abrupt as to throw you right off your balance forwards, you can often save yourself by bringing, with a quick stride, the disengaged back foot to the front to receive your weight. Indeed you are almost sure to do so instinctively.

Another position, which is employed by some runners under circumstances such as I have just described, is as follows:—

The runner crouches as low as possible, almost sitting on the raised heel of the back foot; the front leg, from the knee downwards, is perpendicular to the ski, but its foot is not much farther ahead than in the normal running position; the back knee is pressed against the inside of the front leg, just above the ankle.

This attitude is less tiring to hold than the Telemark position, but is, I think, less of a safeguard to the balance when the speed changes suddenly or the ground is very rough.

All that I have just said has reference only to the preservation of the balance in a fore and aft direction. The question of lateral stability is far simpler; on all ordinary occasions it is sufficiently secured by keeping the skis as close together, and so making as narrow a track as possible.

The reason for this is not quite self-evident, but is easily explained.

If a bicycle be ridden on bumpy ground, it will not be tilted sideways as it crosses the side of an undulation, and will have no tendency to upset unless it actually side-slips.

A tricycle, on the other hand, or any vehicle with a wide wheel-base, will under similar circumstances be more or less tilted according to the angle of the ground, and will, unless it has a very wide wheel-base and a low centre of gravity, be easily upset by a sudden transverse variation in the angle of the ground, especially when moving fast.

The diagram shows how a ski-runner when holding his skis apart may be compared with a tricycle, when holding them together with a bicycle.

This is not quite a fair simile, for, while the cases of the bicycle and of the ski-runner in the single-track position are exactly analogous, a man with his skis apart is not a rigid construction like a tricycle, but, by letting his knees give and by swaying his body, can adapt himself to the change of gradient.

Still, the tendency is always, especially in the case of the beginner, for the legs to stiffen when they ought to yield, and on this account alone the single-track position is the safer.

Fig. 27.

There are, moreover, two further objections—and very strong ones—to separating the skis.

One is that it is impossible to run with the skis apart without holding the feet about level, instead of keeping one well ahead of the other. With the feet level the runner has far less stability in a fore and aft direction, and, without support from his stick, can hardly hope to keep his balance in the event of a very sudden change of speed. The other objection is that when the skis are separated each one has to be kept straight independently. At a low speed it is perhaps not very difficult to do this, but at a high speed it is by no means easy, and, of course, any divergence or convergence of the skis is almost certain to cause a fall before it can be checked.

When held against each other, however, the skis, if properly made, will run perfectly straight and need no attention at all. Obviously they cannot converge, and the least inward pressure or edging will prevent them from running apart.

The single-track position, then, has many advantages. The only thing against it is its unsteadiness in the event of side-slip. But under ordinary conditions of snow, a ski, when moving straight ahead, either directly down the slope or obliquely across it, will show no tendency to side-slip, not even when, in the latter case, the slope is very steep (provided, of course, the ski be held normally, i.e. edged). Under such conditions you can always run with the skis held close together in either the normal or the Telemark position, and there can be no excuse for deliberately separating them.

When running on a hard icy crust, however, it is sometimes impossible to prevent the skis from side-slipping. They are, of course, much more apt to side-slip when moving across a slope (especially a steep one) than when running straight down it; indeed when traversing a steep slope they may side-slip even in soft snow if that is shallow and rests on a slippery crust. But though they will generally run straight downhill with absolute steadiness on snow that makes them side-slip badly when traversing, the surface may be so extremely slippery that they will side-slip even in a direct descent owing to small lateral undulations of the ground.

As soon, in either case, as the tendency to side-slip becomes so pronounced that you are really hopelessly unsteady in the single-track position, you will, if you still want to run at full speed, have to separate the feet more or less and hold them about level. Do not separate the feet more than just enough to steady you, and do not do it at all until you are quite sure it is absolutely necessary; try merely to separate them a little for a moment when the side-slip unsteadies you and to recover the normal position instantly; some runners seem able to hold the single-track position at any speed on the most slippery snow—possibly by making imperceptible jumps to one side or another as they feel the slip begin.

When running with your feet level and apart, your fore and aft balance will, of course, be more precarious than in the normal position; you had better, therefore, lower your centre of gravity by crouching as low as you can with steadiness, i.e. not so low that all your weight comes on the heels or that they have to be raised at all. In the level-footed position your best safeguard in case of sudden changes of gradient or snow consistency is not to lean backwards or forwards, but to move the feet forwards or backwards, which amounts to exactly the same thing but is a much quicker process.

This may not be quite clear. Let me try to explain. As I have already said, the line from your centre of gravity to your point of support must always be about at right angles to the slope. Suppose then that you are running fast down a slope with an abrupt mound in front of you, instead of trying to readjust your balance as you pass on to the mound by leaning suddenly backwards, do so by still more suddenly doubling forwards a bit at the hips and, so to speak, lifting your feet forwards and placing them against the mound to receive your weight. If, on the other hand, you suddenly run off a gentle slope on to a steep one, quickly hollow your back a little, and, by straightening yourself at the hips and bending your knees more, lift your feet backwards and place them against the slope behind you. By “lifting” the skis I do not mean actually raising them from the snow, but only taking the weight off them a trifle, and sliding them. These movements are exactly the same as those you would make if, when standing with your feet tied together, you were pushed off your balance either forwards or backwards and were then to save yourself by a little jump in the corresponding direction. Leaning backwards and forwards, which as it is done principally on the hinge of the ankles cannot be done quickly, may be used as a preventive of loss of balance, but is practically useless as a cure; this moving of the feet, however, is particularly useful for the latter purpose. If you try the two methods when running quickly down a very undulating icy path, you will soon decide in favour of the latter.

You can, of course, do the same thing when running in steady snow with the skis together in the normal position, but it is then simpler and quicker to move one foot backwards or forwards instead of moving both.

Although, as I have said, side-slip occurs more readily when you are traversing a slope, you will then find it far less upsetting than when you are running straight downhill. When traversing in normal position with the skis together, the upper foot should lead and the weight be on the lower; with the lower foot weighted it will take a very sudden and pronounced side-slip to upset you, for as the lower ski slips the upper will receive the weight, and the sudden pressure will probably make its edge hold long enough for you to recover your balance. Moreover, you will generally, when traversing, be running pretty slowly (you can, of course, go as slowly as you like by making the angle of your traverse a very gradual one), which makes side-slip still less likely to upset you. It is, therefore, hardly ever necessary to traverse with your skis more than a few inches apart.

If you wish to run a traverse at high speed where the tendency to side-slip is very pronounced, do not make violent efforts to prevent it by edging your skis extra hard, but simply keep them normally edged with your ankles, and especially your knees, well over towards the hill, and then let them side-slip if they want to. Make no attempt to lean towards the slope, but keep your weight well outwards and forwards, imagine that you are making for a spot rather below where your skis are pointing, and run as lightly as possible, cultivating, if you can, a sort of semi-sideways floating feeling, which is hardly describable but which you will certainly recognise if you do as I have told you.

Generally speaking, the harder and slipperier the snow the more lightly you should try to run, the softer the snow the more heavily you should try to drive your skis into it.

You can entirely disregard the hard ruts of ski tracks unless you are obliged to cross them at a narrow angle. If you cannot help doing this (which you should try to if running fast) be ready, if one of the skis or both get turned off their course, to lift one quickly and put it straight again before you lose your balance. You should never be afraid of lifting your skis, especially on hard snow; by stepping about quickly you can not only keep your balance even when running fast, but can alter your course, though in the latter case you must be careful as you put the first-lifted ski to the snow again to lift the other instantly, or they will run apart for a moment and probably upset you. The greater your speed, the less of course will be the change of direction that you can make safely in one step, but by pattering round quickly you can turn fairly short when going at a good rate.

When running straight downhill in either normal or Telemark position either foot may lead, and you should change about, when practising, until you find you can lead as easily with one as with the other. When traversing in normal position the upper foot should lead, in Telemark position, the lower foot—that is to say, that in traversing the weighted foot should always be the lower one.

The more weight is carried by the lower ski, the less difficulty will you find in keeping the other one close to the side of it.

Should the upper ski show a tendency to run uphill, away from the other, put no more weight on it, but merely turn its inner edge slightly downwards, and press on the toe, when it will run back to its proper position.

If you have any difficulty in preventing it from running downwards, and crossing the other, you can slide it to the rear, and drop into Telemark position, lower foot leading.

Although, generally speaking, you should avoid all effort and hold yourself easily and loosely, you must, when your balance is disturbed, make every effort in your power to keep it.

One very often falls simply through expecting to fall, and doing nothing to save oneself, when a determination not to fall would carry one through.

Don’t be afraid of running straight down the steepest slope, provided the ground is open and fairly smooth, the snow easy and safe,[7] and the change of gradient at the bottom not sudden. Remember that the pace does not go on increasing, but attains its maximum in a second or two. It is only while you are gathering way that the sensation is at all alarming; when full speed is reached—provided the ground be smooth—a steep slope feels no more difficult than a gradual one. If, however, there are any undulations—however small—you had better run down a steep slope in the Telemark position. For though on a moderate slope you might hardly notice them, or could allow for them as directed above, on a steep slope the high speed will very much increase their effect, and to run over a small mound may shoot you into the air if your legs happen to be rigid at the moment.

Whenever you are actually running freely and not trying to put on the brake, or stop (explained later), the very best safeguard to the balance is a desire to go faster.

Should you not happen to want to go faster, pretend you do, if you are not above such childishness.

No amount of wanting, of course, will affect your speed, but this mental attitude will enormously increase your steadiness by removing the fatal tendency to lean backwards.

Similarly, to wish to go slower will not make you do so, but will very likely be the sole cause of a fall.

Some such sentence as “This is very slow,” repeated to oneself as one goes over any difficult ground, is a more potent spell than might be imagined.

BRAKING

If you wish to reduce your speed or stop, you can, as a rule, if you are not going fast—and sometimes even if you are—do so without altering your course, by making one or both skis move more or less broadside on. Although I am only now about to describe the different ways in which this may be done, you should begin to learn them at the very outset—or even before you try straight-running, if you are very nervous—and should certainly not attempt to run very fast until you can brake perfectly by every method described in this chapter, and are fairly proficient in the turns to be described later on.

Single-Stemming or Half-Snow-Plough.—For this find a moderate slope on which the snow is neither very soft nor so hard that you cannot possibly traverse it without side-slipping—an ordinary practice-ground in its normal state is just the thing.

Stand with your skis horizontally across the slope; weight the lower one; lift the upper, and place it pointing steeply enough downhill to slide perfectly freely, with its tip quite close to the other’s, but far enough behind it for the upper foot to be exactly above the lower one (Fig. 28).

Stopping.Going.

L. Weighted and edged.R. Weighted and edged.

L. Unweighted and flattened.

Fig. 28.—Single-stemming or half-snow-plough.

Now lean towards the upper leg, and bend it until your weight is on it, facing towards the point of the upper ski and edging it. Then, keeping the lower leg in exactly the same position, bend its ankle outwards, and almost, but not quite (see p. 83), flatten the ski. The flattening of the ski will release you, and you will slide off in the direction of the upper ski’s point, pushing the lower ski, which must still remain horizontal, forwards and sideways through the snow—stemming with it in fact. You can go as slowly as you like, or as fast as the conditions permit, according as you keep the stemming ski more edged and weighted or less. You can stop suddenly by throwing your whole weight on to the stemming ski, facing round towards its point, and quickly bringing the upper ski beside it and forward to the normal position.

Now make a kick turn (a downhill one for choice), and repeat the process in the other direction, stemming with the other foot.

Practise this in both directions until you have complete control of your speed, and can stop yourself almost instantly when moving at a fair rate, remembering always to face round and bring the upper ski smartly into the normal position as you stop. Then practise it with the upper ski pointing more and more steeply downhill.

It is, of course, possible to start stemming in this way when running freely across the slope with the skis together, and when accustomed to doing it from a standstill you should also practise this, but only when running at a moderate pace, as there are steadier and easier ways of stopping when running fast.

You must, as I have said, hold the lower foot exactly below the upper one, because in that position you can push along the stemming ski with least effort, and most quickly throw the weight on it if the other ski side-slips or you want to stop suddenly. This means that the more directly downhill you go the farther forward you will have to hold the lower foot, and the more, consequently, you will have to bend the upper leg (in order still to keep the weight on the upper ski), eventually having to lift its heel and finally to sit on it, if you are to stem almost or quite directly downhill, as it is quite possible to do.

If you find you can do all this fairly comfortably, by all means do so; if, however, you find that at a certain angle your position on the upper leg becomes very tiring or unsteady, leave this manœuvre and try stemming with both skis, which is also called

Snow-ploughing.—Start straight downhill, where the slope is quite gentle, in the normal running position. The moment you are moving bring your feet level, put the weight on both, raise the outer edges of the skis by bending your knees inwards a little, and, without letting the ski-tips separate, push their heels as wide apart as you possibly can. The legs must now be absolutely straight at the knees.

Fig. 29.—Double-stemming or snow-plough.

The blackened parts are those which should be weighted.

If you keep your knees straight and ankles relaxed the skis will travel nearly flat—they should never, as I have said, be quite flat or their outer edges will catch and trip you—and there will be but little braking effect. If you bend your knees inwards a little, and edge your skis strongly, you will, if the slope is moderate, reduce your pace gradually and stop. On very icy snow, unless the slope is very gentle, you cannot stop by snow-ploughing, however hard you edge, but can only reduce your speed more or less. The [V] position is then, however, a very useful alternative to the position with the skis slightly apart and parallel as a safeguard to the balance in case of side-slip. It of course gives the utmost lateral stability (if the straddle is very wide, as it always should be), and the straight knees prevent it from being in the least tiring, while, when the skis are flattened, the reduction of speed is hardly worth considering. It is therefore usually preferable to the other position, with its tiring crouch, unless the slope is steep (and the speed therefore very high) or the ground rough, when it becomes unsafe on account, not only of its rigidity, but of its greater fore and aft instability, for with the legs in this position one cannot move the feet quickly backwards and forwards in the way described on p. 113. On ground neither steep nor rough enough to make it unsteady, one can, if the snow is hard, safely take the snow-plough position quite suddenly when running at full speed. This is very convenient if when running in normal position one suddenly runs on to an icy patch.

On hard snow, then, snow-ploughing is only effective for braking purposes under certain conditions. In soft snow, if that is at all deep, it is almost useless—except for those who can make an abnormally wide straddle—for if in soft snow the skis are put in the [V] position, the inward pressure of the snow against them is so great that unless the legs can resist it almost directly they are forced together at once, or, at the best, have to let the skis run almost parallel, in which case there is not much object in holding them apart at all. If, however, you are one of the fortunate few who can straddle more than three quarters of their height and point their feet almost directly inwards, you will find that snow-ploughing gives you perfect control, even in soft snow, on all but the steepest slopes, and that even there you may be able to manage by throwing most of the weight on one ski and making it slide nearly broadside on while the other points almost straight downhill, the line of your course being still directly down the slope, and the legs still straddled as widely as possible, and straight at the knees. You will, however, only be able to do this by paying particular attention to the edging of the weighted ski, for if it is edged either too much or too little it will not slide at all when you try to move along slowly, and will check you suddenly and throw you down when you try to stop.

It is important to remember in snow-ploughing that, whether you want to brake hard or only slightly, the straddle must always be as wide as possible; the speed should depend on the flattening or edging of the skis, not on the angle between them. Moreover, if when running free with skis together you want to take the [V] position, you must always—even if running fast—do so as quickly as possible (not forgetting just to lift the outer edges of the skis before you push them out). Remember also that it is no use putting the feet wide apart unless the tips of the skis are close together (closer than Plate XX.

You can start snow-ploughing from a standstill on a steep slope either by taking the position of Plate XIII. and pushing the upper ski round to the proper angle as you throw your weight on to it, or simply by thrusting both sticks into the snow below you and leaning on them while you put the skis in position.

If, for structural reasons, you have only been able to take an academic interest in the instructions for snow-ploughing in soft snow, you can now learn a manœuvre which will enable you in soft snow of any depth to stem as gradually or as steeply as you choose down a slope of any steepness.

Stopping.Going.

R. Unweighted.L. Weighted and edged.

R. Weighted.L. Unweighted and flattened.

Fig. 30.—Telemark-stemming.

Telemark Stemming.—Find a steepish slope which is soft enough to prevent the least tendency to side-slip. Stand with the skis horizontal. Weight the lower, and place the upper one at an angle which will let it slide freely, as you did in learning ordinary stemming, but this time with its front bend touching the lower ankle, and its tip rather across the lower instep. Edge it normally, kneel down on the front of it, and slide off by flattening the other (Fig. 30). You are now stemming in what is practically Telemark position; the object of actually kneeling on the upper ski is to save effort, which, of course, it does completely. It also gives the utmost steadiness. The centre of gravity being so low, you can in this position stop yourself much more suddenly with safety than you can in either snow-ploughing or ordinary stemming, and can also more safely take up the stemming position while running freely—if, of course, you then take the ordinary Telemark position and kneel right down first. In order to stem straight downhill you must place the upper ski at right angles to the horizontal lower ski (you may have to get it in position with your hand before starting from a standstill on a steep slope); its point will then be right across the front instep. The front leg will be quite straight and the foot, of course, turned right inwards—a position which may sound awkward, but which most people find surprisingly easy, especially on a steep slope. If you want to stop suddenly, straighten—or rather, diminish the bend of—the upper leg, lifting its knee from the ski and throwing yourself well forward on to the lower one. And always remember to face round quickly towards its point as you do so, and to bring the other ski smartly to normal position by its side.

Telemark-stemming straight downhill is not only easy in the softest snow, but also on everything but the very hardest, no matter how steep the slope.

This manœuvre, in fact, is an extremely useful one (though neither I nor, I believe, any other writer on ski-ing had the sense to realise its value until Herr Bilgeri pointed it out), and you should lose no time in mastering it—not that it takes much mastering, for the average beginner can do it with ease at the first attempt. It is no use, however, for traversing, either steeply or gradually, on hard snow, for the upper ski is then very apt to side-slip and upset the runner. Nor on very hard and slippery snow is it suitable even for a direct descent, as it is then difficult to hold enough weight on the stemming ski to keep the pace down. On this sort of snow, however, as long as it gives any grip at all—and, when it does not, it is no longer snow, but ice, for which skis are not intended—you can descend the steepest slopes either directly or obliquely with your speed under perfect control by

Side-Slipping.—In order to side-slip straight downhill you simply stand with your skis horizontal and rather apart, and start by flattening them a little and throwing your weight well outwards, as if you wanted to go fast down the hill, not slowly. You will then not go fast, but will keep your weight over your skis and be able by edging them again to check your pace or stop when you want to. If you want to stop suddenly, give a little jump and stamp the ski edges hard into the snow. Do not be too anxious to go slowly, or in the effort to edge the skis extra hard you will probably lean towards the slope, push them from under you, and fall down. The skis must remain horizontal as they slip; if they begin to turn upwards or downwards, put weight on the toes or heels respectively. If by weighting the toes you make the skis point downwards a little they will slide forwards as well as sideways, and the more they are then edged the more they will move forwards in comparison with their sideway motion. By side-slipping, therefore, you can traverse slowly at any angle you choose if the slope is fairly steep.

You can also stop yourself by side-slipping if you wish to when running a free traverse in normal position. You merely have to make the skis side-slip and instantly put your weight on the heels until they turn uphill a little, when you can again edge and stop them.

A little practice will make the whole manœuvre almost instantaneous; it is then really a Christiania swing (see p. 175), and, if the snow is not very soft, is a far quicker and easier way than ordinary stemming or stopping or checking the pace for a moment. Throw your weight well outwards to keep it over your skis as they side-slip; your tendency at first will be to fall towards the hill.

If you ever wish to make a stemming traverse at a steep angle on a moderate slope where the snow though hard is not quite slippery enough for you to side-slip down it, you may be somewhat at a loss. In the Telemark position you will find a tendency to side-slip, and you may, in the ordinary stemming position, with the lower ski held horizontally and the weight on the upper one, be unable to manage the necessary squatting attitude comfortably. You can then traverse in something between the ordinary stemming and the snow-plough positions with the upper ski edged outwards and pointing the way you are going, but with the weight almost equally distributed between it and the lower, which points somewhat downhill instead of horizontally and is held with its tip level with the other’s, not ahead. The upper knee must be bent, the lower straight.