Fig. 33.Showing position of limbs and body when jumping.N.B.—Many good ski-runners bring their ski quite level when assuming the crouched position before jumping.The ski are omitted for the sake of clearness.
Fig. 33.
Showing position of limbs and body when jumping.
N.B.—Many good ski-runners bring their ski quite level when assuming the crouched position before jumping.
The ski are omitted for the sake of clearness.
Imagine yourself, then, standing some 20 or 30 yards above the take-off. (The precise distance will, of course, depend on the steepness of the hill and the speed which you wish to attain; but as regards speed do not attempt too much at first; it is difficult, of course, to give an exact measure, but a rate of about 5 yards per second when approaching the edge of the jump should be sufficient to begin with.) See that your ski-fastenings are in order, and polish your ski a little on the snow, or on some fir branches or other twigs, to remove any lumps adhering to the bottom of them.Be altogether without fear, and start.
Hold the ski close together, with one of them somewhat in advance—say, with the heel of the one foot about in line with the toe of the other.
About 15 yards or so before reaching the edge of the take-off bend down, leaning a little forward (see Fig. 33). N.B.—About this point many good jumpers bring their feet quite level.
Some few yards before reaching the edge swing the body evenly forwards, at the same time straightening up.
This movement is termed the “sats.”
Note particularly that no attempt must be made toliftthe feet as in ordinary jumping. The body should be swung evenly forwards, and at the same time straighten up from the crouched to the erect position. The movement, if made vigorously, does, in fact, cause a slight rising from the ground, but it is best not to be too vigorous at first.Unrollyourself, so to speak, with an easy sweep, avoiding all stiffness and jerking.
It may perhaps help you to understand what is meant if you make anattemptto rise on the toes. You should not, indeed, actually rise, but just at first, if you make an effort in that direction, it will probably assist you to arrive at the knack of the thing.
Another very important point is the timing of the movement. The body should be nearly straight just as the take-off is left. Therefore, as the movement itself takes time, the greater thespeed at which you are travelling the earlier you must begin. Whilst, on the other hand, the more vigorous the straightening you intend to make the later you can defer it. You are, however, advised to take things easily, especially at first, and to aim rather at accuracy and elegance of style than at mere length. Accordingly it will be necessary for you to begin the straightening movement rather early. Remember when you first learnt to shoot how often the tails of the rabbits and pheasants suffered. For very similar reasons most beginners make thesatstoo late.
It follows from the above that the object of thesatsis two-fold—firstly, to increase the length of the jump, and, secondly, to bring the body into the proper position for alighting. The former is achieved by the straightening movement, and the latter by the swing forward.
“But,” you ask, “why swing forward at all, why not keep quite still?” The reason is that in descending all hills on slippery things like ski the body must be kept quite straight over them—or, in other words, at about right angles to the slope on which they are travelling. This is sufficiently obvious. But observe that in jumping the slope below the take-off is considerably steeper than that above (p. 93). The body must accordingly be brought forward when passing from one to the other, or a fall backwards will result. And such is, indeed, the common fate of the beginner, whose tendency is invariably to hang back!
Now look at thespraet hop, shown inFig. 31. Here the take-off itself is turned upwards, and the difference between its direction and that of the slope below becomes greater than ever. On such a jump it is especially necessary to swing well forwards, for which reason it is the very best practice, for once one has learnt to do that everything else is easy.
The whole body should be straight and erect. So do not check the straightening of the knees and thighs if you have not quite finished your spring when you leave the take-off.
You will feel a compelling necessity to wave your arms round and round when in the air. Everybody does so more or less,but, of course, your object should be to be reasonable in this. Frantic waving looks very ugly. Endeavour to keep your ski parallel to the slope below. There is always a tendency for the toes to fly up and the heels to drag, which should be checked as far as possible by pressing down the toes.
Slide one foot forwards and the other backwards, relieving any shock by a slight bending of the knees. This extending of the feet is of great assistance in preserving the balance, and with a little practice becomes almost instinctive.
Resume as soon as possible the normal position—i.e., ski close together, one foot slightly in advance, body slightly crouched. As soon as possible after reaching the level stop yourself by making a Telemark or Christiania swing.
Points to be remembered:—
1.Don’t be frightened.2.Ski close together.3.Swing forward, “unroll.”4.Extend ski on alighting.
1.Don’t be frightened.2.Ski close together.3.Swing forward, “unroll.”4.Extend ski on alighting.
Pay great attention to your “form,” which is all important, as in rowing. Think of nothing else, and you will soon succeed. At competitions the prize is not necessarily awarded to the competitor who jumps furthest, even if he “stood” after alighting. For if the jump was made in bad style assuredly it was a fluke, and will seldom be repeated. All ski-jumpers fall more or less, but it is equally a matter of surprise if the awkward should “stand,” or the elegant and correct should fail.
The style of jumping above recommended is that known in Norway as theSvæve—one swoops motionless through the air. It is certainly the prettiest, as well as the easiest to learn. Another method, however, exists, known as theTrække op, in which the leaper draws up his legs during his flight, the object being to cover a longer distance. This, however,however, looks rather ugly (according, at least, to most people’s ideas), and it is questionable whether one comes so much further with it, after all.
Leif Berg Jumping 90 Feet, at Glarus, ’05.Photo by E. Jeanrenaud.
Leif Berg Jumping 90 Feet, at Glarus, ’05.
Photo by E. Jeanrenaud.
But there is yet another point which it is far more difficult to decide. Shall the runner jump with feet perfectly level or shall he advance one of them as shown inFig. 33? As will be seen from the above description, the writer has not ventured to speak positively as to this. On the one hand he has the authority of one of the Holmenkollen judges for asserting that it is best for the beginner to keep one foot in advance, whilst on the other the general practice of many (if not, indeed, most) first-class performers undoubtedly is to keep the feet quite level. The advocates of the advanced foot contend that extreme steadiness is of vital importance in taking thesats, and that, inasmuch as the advanced foot position is admittedly steadier than the other for glissading, it should also be adopted at this stage. In addition to which they argue that, after the flight through the air, when the runner first touches ground the advanced foot is the more stable position of the two. On the other side, those in favour of the “level-footed” style contend:—Firstly, that to jump with one foot forward looks ugly (and the writer is inclined to agree with them in this), and, secondly, that it defeats its own ends, for it involves leaning forward on to one foot, and accordingly jumping chiefly with it. And this (they say) is conducive to a crooked flight through the air. It is not, however, apparent how this is a necessary consequence, for in ordinary long-jumping the spring is taken almost entirely with one leg without the balance being in any way upset.
These are, however, theoretical matters, as to which the reader interested may well be left to work out conclusions for himself, whilst those who do not care for argument can console themselves with the reflection that whichever style they like to adopt they have excellent authority for their choice.
Is it possible that this is another question like that of the bindings and that perhaps it does not matter so very much, after all? Or may not both sides be right? May it not, for example, be best to jump with level feet when the track is smooth and easy, but with one foot forward when it is irregularand difficult? On the Continent rough jumping on tour has hardly yet “caught on,” everything being regarded, so to speak, through competition spectacles. And perhaps this is why the level-footed style is there so much insisted on. He, however, who limits himself to jumping at competitions and on elaborately prepared tracks will never be a really clever ski-runner, and will miss a vast deal of the possibilities and pleasures of this branch of the sport.
It is quite impossible to define exactly what constitutes mountaineering as apart from strolling and short excursions, but its chief characteristics are distance from human dwellings and human help, and the presence of special dangers. The term “mountaineering” comprises a multitude of rules which teach how to overcome the difficulties and how to avoid the dangers of rising ground. Mountaineering is a science admirably expounded in a series of classical text-books, the result of the experience of thousands of climbers, and the essence of a literature of over 10,000 volumes. From a subjective point of view mountaineering begins when a wanderer, approaching a hill or mountain, is conscious of the fact that he will meet with special conditions which demand a special knowledge. And the minimum required of a man who wishes to be called a “mountaineer,” a good mountain climber, an expert, is that as to the theory he should have “Dent” at his finger-ends (C. T. Dent, Mountaineering, Badminton Library); and as to the practice, he must be a man who can be trusted to attempt any peak in the world without endangering the lives of his companions.
Now, it would be absurd to try to teach mountaineering in a chapter of this book, for it takes ten years at least to make a mountaineer. Still less dare I insult the mountaineer by advising him how to behave in his element, for he will not go high and far until he feels at home on the planks. By the time he has mastered the technicalities of ski-ing, he knows everything about the outfit which suits him best, and about his line ofconduct on any expedition he may plan. My remarks on the subject in hand cannot, therefore, be anything but a series of very general reflections and impressions, simply intended as a loud warning to ski-runners that they should study “Alpinism,” and as a gentle reminder to mountaineers, that ski-running is a somewhat tricky complication of their art. Why should I tell the latter what type of ski to take on long tours, seeing that he knows on which kind he travels best; why should he ask me about his ice-axe when he is sure to take one or not according to the object in view?9
Ski-runners, unless they are climbing experts, or accompanied by such, must confine themselves to the usual practice-grounds and safe excursions, for only a mountaineer can decide on the spot whether hill craft is necessary or not. To explain how he arrives at this decision would mean a very thick volume. The ski-runner, therefore, who wishes to form a correct opinion of his own should make up his mind to learn from amateurs, guides, and books how to look about, think, and behave when he leaves the beaten track where multitudes are accustomed to go unthinking and unadvised. My random observations are to impress him with that necessity, and for the mountaineer they shall be an epitome of familiar principles.
In the winter the problem of the avalanche eclipses all others. The rule to go only with guides or experienced friends disposes of the general advice respecting glaciers, crevasses, slips, strategy, and discipline, for in these things a man must train himself during many seasons. The rule that only good ski-runners dare aspire towards high peaks saves a long repetition of detail as to outfit.10The ski-runner-mountaineer ought always to be a manwho, during his apprenticeship, knew something of cold, hunger, slow companions, and broken ski. To have no spare gloves and no provisions, to fall where one ought to stand, to step on a hollow, or to risk a dashing slide, may have merely disagreeable results two miles from home; but the same omissions and commissions can be suicidal, nay, even criminal, when ten miles from the nearest human habitation. If you wish to kill, go alone, and kill yourself, for every party of mountaineers suffers for the thoughtlessness of each of its members, while the greatest skill or ability of one of them is as nothing in the balance of fate when the whole has to bear the inadequacy of the lowest unit.
Extreme suspicion and wariness are the only correct attitude towards the mountains in their winter garb. The number of factors which combine to prepare or prevent an avalanche is truly bewildering, and any single one of them may be the prime mover or the reliable safeguard in a given instance. And this one was perhaps overlooked in weighing the evidence.The secret of the avalanche is the breaking strain and snapping point of an unseen tension.Avalanches owe their growth and collapse to some or all of the following indications: The angle of the slope; the surface of the ground; the quantity of the snow; the snow of a month ago, of yesterday, and to-day; the temperature and the wind of a month ago, yesterday, and today, while the snow fell, or before it fell, or after it had fallen. And to consummate or prevent the catastrophy there are, in conjunction with the above, the temperature at the time of our arrival on the spot, the weight of the party, its methods of walking or ski-ing, and sundry other accidents. So many possibilities produce tantalising doubt rather than definite conviction, and more often than not a slope, which presents all the visible elements of danger, may be perfectlyharmless. On the other hand, well-known guides have walked into mouse-traps because one exceptional condition had altered the internal character of a particular slope which, throughout their lives, they had known as perfectly safe. A strong sense of human weakness is therefore the proper frame of mind towards the mysterious and overwhelming power of the snow.
The mountaineer must condense the theory of avalanches into a few comprehensive rules of thumb, and when in doubt he must give the benefit to himself and not to the avalanche.
Suspicious.—Every open slope of about 25 deg. or steeper, andall new snow in warm weather. A thaw after a heavy fall of snow is the most common cause of the thick and heavy slides known as ground avalanches.
Dangerous.—Every heavy accumulation of snow at an angle of 40 deg. or more, on long open slopes, and in gullies. At lesser angles all snow which lies on a hard and smooth surface (grass, earth, old snow, crust, ice, &c.). Hard snow under the lee of ridges. This is liable to crack and to become suddenly transformed into what looks like a huge waterfall of lumps of sugar. Therefore, one ought to cross such slopes as high up as possible. The cornice which overhangs the ridge is more dangerous to those who walkonit than to thoseunderit.
Safe.—All slopes under 25 deg; all slopes evenly dotted with trees or rocks; almost every perfectly homogeneous snow not deeper than 2ft. which lies on a rough surface (screes, &c.).
More cannot be said without conjuring up a flood of detail. This experience and acquired instinct must fill in. The tourist can find almost daily an opportunity of making experiments on a small scale, though he should not forget that a cubic yard of snow can dislocate his arm or break his leg.
As an instance, showing the effect of surface, I may mention that, in the Alpine spring, the grass slopes send down in huge avalanches the solid layer accumulated and consolidated during the winter. At the same time the firm, wet snow of exactly the same texture which lies on screes remains perfectly safe, and affords splendid ski-ing. It never slips off, but gradually melts, evaporates, and vanishes as the summer draws near.
The only exact method of dealing with avalanches would be tomake “avalanche maps” of popular centres. In these maps the slopes and gullies which are always bad are coloured, let us say, red. A blue slope would be dangerous under such and such conditions; a green slope becomes threatening in the spring, &c. On these maps all those expeditions should be marked which can be guaranteed as safe.
The fear of the avalanche must always be before the ski-runner’s conscience. All the rest is a matter of well-defined dogma, of strict attention to well-known precautions, which belong to the routine of every mountaineer deserving of the name.
(1) Never go alone; three is the minimum.
(2) One man at least must be an Alpine climber of experience.
(3) All members of the party must be equal in skill.
These three commandments are the essence. Let a few comments suffice.
(1) The solitary mountaineer is a fool. This is an article of faith. Permissible exceptions are rare.
(2) The experienced leader will tell his friends all about the crevasses, outfit, provisions, the importance of an early start, the duty of keeping together, and the courage to turn back before the approach of the night or bad weather. He will ask if everyone has his goggles, spare gloves, provisions, snow-helmets, repairing tools. He will take from everyone the promise to be strictly obeyed.
(3) This is a necessary complement to 1 and 2. Ten stumblers of equal proficiency are a good party, for they will generally get as far as they deserve. Nine good men and one stumbler are bad, for they will probably make that one poor man feel worse than he is.
On long tours only persons can go who do not fall when they have the will not to fall. He is not a fit companion for difficult expeditions who is not sure that he can keep on his feet throughout the day. A mountaineer never has a spill unless he forgets himself, his companions, or his surroundings.
Note.—In our experience by far the commonest form of winter avalanche occurs when a ski-runner crosses (or some other influence disturbs) a long steep slope offreshly-fallensnow. The weight of the runner is the laststraw which causes the slenderly coherent mass to snap. It does so with a curious report, something like the cracking of thick ice on a frozen lake. Below the dividing line, which may be half a mile long, the snow slides off the hill-side much as it slides off the roof of a house, forming itself into thick slabs like paving stones which accumulate one on top of the other, and which ultimately overwhelm the runner. The snow usually breaks only a short distance above the runner, and consequently, in the event of an accident, search should first be made in that part of the mass which is highest up the hill.Freshly-fallen snow is accordingly quite the most serious danger of ski-running, and, inasmuch as it usually affords but poor going, it is seldom worth while venturing far on very steep ground after a recent fall. After a few days of fine weather, however, the snow settles down, the avalanches run off, and what remains becomes firmer and more crystalline in structure. Under the pressure of its own weight, and owing to the peculiar property ofregelationwhich solid water possesses, the new fall attaches itself to the old crusts, and the conditions become, comparatively speaking, safe.It is a common saying amongst the Swiss that it is unsafe to venture above the tree-line, as long as any snow is left clinging to the trees on the sunny side of the valleys. This rough test we have found to be a very useful one.—Ed.
Note.—In our experience by far the commonest form of winter avalanche occurs when a ski-runner crosses (or some other influence disturbs) a long steep slope offreshly-fallensnow. The weight of the runner is the laststraw which causes the slenderly coherent mass to snap. It does so with a curious report, something like the cracking of thick ice on a frozen lake. Below the dividing line, which may be half a mile long, the snow slides off the hill-side much as it slides off the roof of a house, forming itself into thick slabs like paving stones which accumulate one on top of the other, and which ultimately overwhelm the runner. The snow usually breaks only a short distance above the runner, and consequently, in the event of an accident, search should first be made in that part of the mass which is highest up the hill.
Freshly-fallen snow is accordingly quite the most serious danger of ski-running, and, inasmuch as it usually affords but poor going, it is seldom worth while venturing far on very steep ground after a recent fall. After a few days of fine weather, however, the snow settles down, the avalanches run off, and what remains becomes firmer and more crystalline in structure. Under the pressure of its own weight, and owing to the peculiar property ofregelationwhich solid water possesses, the new fall attaches itself to the old crusts, and the conditions become, comparatively speaking, safe.
It is a common saying amongst the Swiss that it is unsafe to venture above the tree-line, as long as any snow is left clinging to the trees on the sunny side of the valleys. This rough test we have found to be a very useful one.—Ed.
Broad Peak, Kashmir.Ski in foreground at a height of 20,000 feet.Photo by Dr. Guillarmod.
Broad Peak, Kashmir.
Ski in foreground at a height of 20,000 feet.
Photo by Dr. Guillarmod.
In warm weather snow is apt to stick to the bottom of the ski (see page 22). It accumulates there in large watery clods, and renders progress very slow and laborious. Under such circumstances the advice commonly given is not to go out at all, and unless there is a prospect of better things, either in the shade or higher up, it is certainly best to stop at home. Nevertheless, the boundary line between sticking and not sticking is an extremely narrow one, and, moreover, one is not always sitting comfortably indoors when the trouble begins. It is therefore important to consider what is to be done to avoid or cure it.
Waxing the skiis the simplest plan, and proves effective in the great majority of cases. It is true that with waxed ski hill-climbing may become a matter of considerable difficulty, for the wax is apt to carry matters too far, and to make the surface unduly slippery. But anything is better than carrying all that dead weight of snow, and by using only a little wax under the foot (where the sticking chiefly occurs), by choosing an easy gradient, and by side stepping, &c., one can generally manage to get along somehow.
Various kinds of wax are sold for this purpose, and all are more or less efficacious. There is, however, a difficulty with the solid kinds in inducing them to “bite” when the ski are cold and wet, and the writer prefers the semi-liquid variety sold in tubes. A tube of wax, plus its attendant piece of rag, takes up very littleroom in the pocket or rucksack, and its weight is in no way commensurate with that of the lumps of snow which it is not infrequently its office to prevent.
Sealskin.—From time immemorial seal’s (or elk’s) skin has been attached to the bottom of the ski. The hairs, set towards the heel serve the double purpose of preventing the ski slipping backwards, and of keeping the surface free from sticky snow. Until quite recently it has been usual to fix the skin permanently; but whilst this works fairly well for certain purposes, it is open to many objections. The hair is a very serious impediment, both down-hill and on the level, for it not only reduces the speed, but, owing to its inherent “wobbliness,” it renders steering and balancing much more difficult. Then, again, the hair soon wears out, a day of hard snow being sufficient to quite spoil it; or it tears, or, being wet, the weather turns colder and it freezes solid. But perhaps the most serious objection of all is the nastyfeelingof a skin-clad ski. There is a certain cleanness and crispness about the movement of the plain wood through the snow which one learns to love, and which one sorely misses. Besides which there is much art in getting up-hill to the best advantage on uncovered ski, and this keeps one’s mind busy, and greatly alleviates the labours of the climb; whereas with the skin any duffer can get along, and climbing becomes pure drudgery. It is, however, certain that, given a long and steep ascent where much zig-zagging is necessary, or even an only moderately steep slope and hard snow, one can with the skin arrive far more quickly and easily at the top than without it. It will, therefore, either when attached permanently or when detachable as about to be described, be found to be of great value for long and arduous mountain tours on steep Alpine ground. But even in the Alps, under all ordinary circumstances, where ski-running, and not the ascent of any particularly difficult summit, is the object in view, and where it is of no consequence whether one arrives an hour sooner or later, there is no sense in encumbering oneself with unnecessary gear and spoiling the pleasant “feel” of the bare ash.
On undulating ground, where one can usually go straight up and down hill (as in most parts of Norway), nobody nowadays dreams of using skin in any shape or form.
Detachable Sealskinis quite a recent invention, and is vastly preferable to the fixed article. For it can be used for a long climb, and removed when the summit is reached.
Thus a strip of the material mounted on webbing can be attached to the bottom of the ski by means of a loop over the point, a strap at the heel end, and a few transverse straps. But the plan is open to the objection that the skin is apt to slip about sideways, and that the fixing of it is troublesome, and takes time.
The latest method of fixing is that invented by Messrs. Sohm and Madlener, and is highly recommended by those who have tried it. But it involves boring two holes through each ski—an unpardonable sacrilege in the eyes of some people. Surely, however, if we are going to commit the outrage of using sealskin at all we may just as well be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, and bore holes or do anything else which may assist us in our fell (joke!) design.
The detachable skin of Herren Sohm and Madleneris sewn on to stout webbing, and is only about half as long as the ski themselves. It is attached to the ski immediately in front of the foot, and reaches from there to the back end. The arrangements for fixing it are extremely ingenious, and permit of its being attached or removed with great rapidity. The photographs and drawings (p. 108) show exactly what they are.
A hole is bored in the ski just in front of the binding; and another about halfway between it and the heel end of the ski. Through each of these holes a bolt passes, the bottom of which is shaped like a flat sort of button. The bolt sticks up through the ski; and it is threaded and fitted with a wing-nut. (See Fig.a.) When not required the button is screwed by means of the wing-nut into a recess cut for its reception in the bottom of the ski.
The front part of the skin is buttoned to the front bolt, the middle part to the second bolt, whilst the heel end has a strap sewn on to it by means of which the whole is first stretched perfectly taut, and then secured by passing the strap round the heel of the ski, and fixing it to a catch on the top of the ski. The strap is fitted with eye-holes, and the catch is of the simple, but ingenious construction shown in Fig.b, and in the photos.
The front part of the skin, of course, requires protection. Thisis afforded by soldering two pieces of sheet brass together so as to form a sharp tent-shapedV.
Fig. 34.—The Sohm-Madlener Detachable Sealskin.(a) Bolt with button and wing-nut. Two are needed for each ski.(b) Catch for securing strap leading from back end of skin. The photos showing catch half open and shut.(c) Lower side of front edge of skin, showing sharp brass entrance.(d) Upper side of front edge of skin, showing button-hole on brass entrance.(e) Lower side of middle of skin, showing rivets for button-hole. There should be six rivets instead of only four, as shown.(f) Upper side of middle of skin, showing button-hole.The measurements, when not otherwise stated, are in millimètres.
Fig. 34.—The Sohm-Madlener Detachable Sealskin.
(a) Bolt with button and wing-nut. Two are needed for each ski.(b) Catch for securing strap leading from back end of skin. The photos showing catch half open and shut.(c) Lower side of front edge of skin, showing sharp brass entrance.(d) Upper side of front edge of skin, showing button-hole on brass entrance.(e) Lower side of middle of skin, showing rivets for button-hole. There should be six rivets instead of only four, as shown.(f) Upper side of middle of skin, showing button-hole.
(a) Bolt with button and wing-nut. Two are needed for each ski.
(b) Catch for securing strap leading from back end of skin. The photos showing catch half open and shut.
(c) Lower side of front edge of skin, showing sharp brass entrance.
(d) Upper side of front edge of skin, showing button-hole on brass entrance.
(e) Lower side of middle of skin, showing rivets for button-hole. There should be six rivets instead of only four, as shown.
(f) Upper side of middle of skin, showing button-hole.
The measurements, when not otherwise stated, are in millimètres.
The skin, mounted on its webbing, is placed between the jaws of theVwhich are then closed and secured by a couple of copper rivets. (See Figs.candd.) The “button-holes” on the skin are not, of course, of the ordinary kind. The front one is shown in Fig.d. The second one in Fig.f.
The front “button-hole” is cut out of the upper part of the tent-shaped brassVas shown in Fig.d.
The second “button-hole” (Fig.f) allows the button to slide backwards and forwards in it so as to permit of the skin being pulled quite taut. This “button-hole” is made by simply cutting a hole and slot in another piece of sheet brass, and attaching it to the skin by means of rivets. (See Figs.eandf.) N.B.—Only four rivets are shown in this drawing, but probably it is better to make the slot a little longer and to add another rivet at each side.
In fitting this kind of detachable skin to a pair of ordinary ski, it is probably best to fill up the customary groove cut in the bottom of the ski. The ski will then be devoted exclusively to steep mountain work where it is in any case advantageous to dispense with the groove. (See page 33.) If, however, it is desired to retain the groove it will be advisable to make the button holes extra strong, or else to make them up so as to fit close against the wood.
It will be observed (as was mentioned above) that the skin only covers about half the under surface of the ski. To prevent snow sticking to the uncovered part in warm weather, a liberal coating of wax may be applied, or else (as Herr Sohm advises) the whole of the bottom of the ski may be painted with smooth and hard enamel. This gives a very fast surface for running on, and of course no slipping back need be feared when walking up-hill with the skin attached.
Climbing Irons.—Herr Sohm recommends the use of climbing irons invented by him in combination with his detachable skin. The object of the irons is to prevent slipping on very steep icy slopes. The writer has had no experience of these, and, as criticism without practical knowledge is seldom of much value, he prefers to leave the reader to try them or leave them alone, just as he pleases. This much may, however, be safely assumed that these appliances (like the skin itself) can onlybe of value to the skilled ski mountaineer desirous of making long and difficult excursions in the high Alps. They are (as Herr Sohm himself insists) quite unnecessary on ordinary ground, and are certainly not for the beginner.
Fig. 35.—Sohm’s Climbing Irons.The measurements are in millimètres. See also the photos,page 108.
Fig. 35.—Sohm’s Climbing Irons.
The measurements are in millimètres. See also the photos,page 108.
The climbing irons are made of some strong metal unaffected by rust, and their shape and the method of fixing them in conjunction with the skin is shown clearly in the accompanying diagrams.
Tying a piece of rope to the bottom of the skiis resorted to by some in order to help them to get up-hill. The writer has,however, never found this to be of much use. It is true that if plenty of rope is used, and if it is properly fixed (no easy matter by the way), it largely obviates slipping back; but it also seriously hinders slipping forwards, and necessitates a lifting or heavy dragging of the ski at every step. Snow is very apt to stick to the rope, and of course no glissading with it is possible. The net loss seems therefore to be greater than the gain, though possibly there may be occasions when the reader may find something of the sort useful. The plan has at least the merit of cheapness.
In Nordmarken, near Christiania.Photo by H. Abel.
In Nordmarken, near Christiania.
Photo by H. Abel.
Dipping part of the ski into wateris also recommended by some in order to help climbing, the idea being to form a lump of ice on the bottom, which may be removed when the summit is reached. But this, too, is open to much the same objections as the rope, and is scarcely worth while. If it is to be adopted, it is well to be provided with a metal paper-knife, or something of the kind, to scrape off the ice, and, incidentally, it may be here mentioned that some sort of scraping appliance will always be found useful; for cleaning one’s ski with the stick or an ordinary knife takes a long time, besides being apt to injure both the wood and the blade.
(Mostly dealt with already, but repeated here to impress the beginner).
I.—Kit.
(1) Too heavy clothes. Woolly clothes. Have light, wind-proof, smooth materials.(2) Tight boots with thin soles. Have large strong boots which won’t pinch the toes, even with three pairs of socks on, and which won’t buckle in the middle of the sole.(3) Ski brittle, of bad shape, or of great weight. Get some one who knows good ski to choose for you, or, if this is impossible, send to a good maker for his best.(4) Too short gloves. Have long gloves to draw over the sleeves of your coat.
(1) Too heavy clothes. Woolly clothes. Have light, wind-proof, smooth materials.
(2) Tight boots with thin soles. Have large strong boots which won’t pinch the toes, even with three pairs of socks on, and which won’t buckle in the middle of the sole.
(3) Ski brittle, of bad shape, or of great weight. Get some one who knows good ski to choose for you, or, if this is impossible, send to a good maker for his best.
(4) Too short gloves. Have long gloves to draw over the sleeves of your coat.
II.—Condition of the snow.
(1) Abusing the snow. The better the ski-runner the less he complains, andvice versâ. Notice how the good men manage.(2) Continuing a tour when danger may be expected. Only greenhorns and fools do so. Turn back, and try another day.(3) Waxing ski when snow isjustbinding. Best not. The slight clinging will help you up, and won’t interfere seriously with the run. Probably, too, it will be colder higher up.
(1) Abusing the snow. The better the ski-runner the less he complains, andvice versâ. Notice how the good men manage.
(2) Continuing a tour when danger may be expected. Only greenhorns and fools do so. Turn back, and try another day.
(3) Waxing ski when snow isjustbinding. Best not. The slight clinging will help you up, and won’t interfere seriously with the run. Probably, too, it will be colder higher up.
III.—Technique.
(1) Short waddling steps on the level. Lean forward. Slide.(2) Can’t get up hill. Raise front of ski and stamp. Don’t go too steeply. Go slowly, but keep at it.(3) Rushing up in front of others when on tour. Don’t show off. Probably you are one of the worst of the party; in any case, you are only annoying the others.(4) Side stepping, ski cross. Raise heel of lower ski. (See p. 60.)(5) Can’t start down hill. Be quick about it, and then you can.(6) Legs apart and feet level. Keep legs close together and one foot forward.(7) Leaning back on stick. Practise without one.(8) Falling inwards when making a down-hill curve. Lean forward! Throw the weight on to the lower ski.(9) Telemark swing. Can’t get round. Raise heel of the back foot.(10) Christiania swing. Ski runs off at a tangent. Hold ski together. Swing on both of them.(11) Not learning to turn to both right and left. Don’t keep on practising that which you can already do.(12) Dropping over a jump without sats, or recklessly hurling yourself over. Both forms of funking. Keep cool and think of your form.(13) Jumping too late. Don’t go quite so fast, and begin to straighten up earlier.(14) General stiffness. Don’t get into any fixed style of running. Keep on changing your ground and trying new things.
(1) Short waddling steps on the level. Lean forward. Slide.
(2) Can’t get up hill. Raise front of ski and stamp. Don’t go too steeply. Go slowly, but keep at it.
(3) Rushing up in front of others when on tour. Don’t show off. Probably you are one of the worst of the party; in any case, you are only annoying the others.
(4) Side stepping, ski cross. Raise heel of lower ski. (See p. 60.)
(5) Can’t start down hill. Be quick about it, and then you can.
(6) Legs apart and feet level. Keep legs close together and one foot forward.
(7) Leaning back on stick. Practise without one.
(8) Falling inwards when making a down-hill curve. Lean forward! Throw the weight on to the lower ski.
(9) Telemark swing. Can’t get round. Raise heel of the back foot.
(10) Christiania swing. Ski runs off at a tangent. Hold ski together. Swing on both of them.
(11) Not learning to turn to both right and left. Don’t keep on practising that which you can already do.
(12) Dropping over a jump without sats, or recklessly hurling yourself over. Both forms of funking. Keep cool and think of your form.
(13) Jumping too late. Don’t go quite so fast, and begin to straighten up earlier.
(14) General stiffness. Don’t get into any fixed style of running. Keep on changing your ground and trying new things.
Introductions are very informal on the snow.
You may ask anybody for advice, and be certain of receiving a polite answer, provided that you yourself are polite, and that your question is not idiotic.
If you contemplate joining a touring party, you should ask somebody who is going, and who has already made a tour with you, whether you are likely to be welcome. If he hesitates, don’t go. If he assents, go by all means, even though you may be doubtful whether you are up to the work in hand.
You should not instantly rush to the assistance of a lady who may have fallen. Do not let your gallantry get the better of your common sense.
In Norway ladies put on their own ski, and manage their own bindings, and it is not good manners to offer to assist them. Would that the custom extended to Switzerland!
However amusing your conversation may be, you should refrain from chattering during a long climb. Not everybody’s wind or everybody’s temper is perfect.
You will not add to your popularity on tour by continually accepting hospitality at the hands of others, especially if your water-bottle be small, and you carry no repairing outfit.
You should pay up punctually, and without demur, to the man who finances a touring party; it is at least ten to one that he is out of pocket, anyway.
It is a gross breach of manners to tread on the back of another man’s ski. You should at once apologise and fall back five yards.
You should not come plumping over a jump which others have been at some pains to construct, without first asking their leave, and it is always your solemn duty to repair as well as possible any damage you may occasion to the track.
Unless you are really a very good runner, it is better not to imitate too closely the Norwegian style of dress. People may be disappointed.
Always be polite in your dealings with foreigners, and you will seldom have cause to complain of their want of manners.
1 kilogramme = 2·2046 pounds avoirdupois.In trade 1 kilogramme is reckoned 10 per cent. more than 2lb.11lb. = 5 kilogrammes.
Temperature falls about1° Fahrenheit for every 300ft. riseor, say,1° Cent. for every 200 metres.
Comparison between Scales of Fahrenheit, Réaumur, and the Centigrade.