A Norwegian Soldier.Photo by A. B. Wilse.
A Norwegian Soldier.
Photo by A. B. Wilse.
Ski-running is a sport which literally throws one into a whirl of excitement from the moment one starts learning it. Thus the novice who has once tried will not worry over the question as to how long he will take to master the art. The constant repetition, however, of the inquiry: “How long does it take to learn ski-running?” forces us to make some kind of reply, though unwilling to compromise ourselves by laying down a hard and fast rule. Given, then, a pair of ski, snow, correct methods, and a certain amount of patience, anyone gifted with average pluck and muscle should know enough after a week’s practice to enjoy excursions of four or five hours’ length. The practice of the first day or two is always the most trying, but after this progress becomes rapid. Every beginner falls continually and expends an enormous amount of energy in getting up again, and every beginner misapplies the greater part of his strength in other directions. But an elementary balance is soon gained, and one quickly learns how to make those little movements of the thigh muscles which save so much. We are far from saying that at the end of a week you will be even a moderately good ski-runner. Downhill your more skilful companions will be able to leave you far behind, and you will be sorely embarrassed when the ground is at all difficult. But at the end of that time you ought to be far enough advanced to enjoy something of the sensations of a swift descent, and to enter upon the confines ofthat territory of snow-clad forest and mountain which it will be your special privilege to visit. And that is already much.
Whilst it is our belief that no other form of exercise offers greater opportunities for the development of individual skill, it is certain that in no other are the surroundings more beautiful or more novel. The landscape is, as it were, transfigured, for the commonest objects become ennobled when swathed in the flowing garb of the snow-drift, with its sparkle of iridescent hues. There is a stillness and a clearness and a blueness of the atmosphere, and a play of golden sunlight through the branches of the pine trees, standing so erect and silent, sleeping till the return of spring. And above the trees fresh wonders lie in store. Vast slopes of snow, broken here and there by some dark rock, and behind them the soaring watch-towers of the Alps, with their time-worn battlements and shattered walls. Below, in the gulf of the valley, lies the village, diminutive like a German toy at the bottom of a staircase; and on the other side rise whitened slopes, with clusters of tiny châlets, snow-covered and silent; and far away in the enchanted distance, clear-cut, yet mystical, stretches a fairyland of filmy peak and glacier, blending its opalescence with the blue of heaven. A week is surely a short apprenticeship to serve for the enjoyment of these wonders, and we honestly believe that, if you are reasonably strong and diligent, you can see them at the end of that time.
Like most things, ski-running is best learnt young. A certain suppleness of limb characterises the style of those who have begun in childhood, and this, like the true accent of a foreign language, is most difficult to acquire in after years. Nevertheless, it is astonishing what can be achieved long after the muscles have set. In proof of which we may instance that two really good runners with whom we are acquainted did not begin, in the one case till after thirty and in the other till after fifty. We do not, therefore, consider it likely that you are too old to learn, though we are willing to believe that you may be too lazy!
An encouraging feature of the sport is the constant improvement one makes. In many other pursuits a point seems soon to be reached beyond which further progress is very difficult.But with ski-running every season brings its due measure of advance. A well-known skater is credited with the observation that anybody could learn to skate, but that to be a first-class ski-runner one must not only be born on ski, but live on them constantly for eighty years—an hyperbole which contains a strong element of truth. Of course, as in other things, an early beginning is of great value, but a natural aptitude can very well be developed late in life. It is the object of a book of this kind to provide instruction in those methods which experience has shown to be useful, and we believe that if the beginner will himself help us by using his intelligence, he will be very materially assisted by the perusal of these pages. At the same time, it must not be forgotten that the best we can hope to do is to place before him a sort of grammar of the sport. The spoken language, the unconscious and instantaneous adaptation of the various positions advocated to the circumstances of the case, can only be acquired by practice directed by common sense.
Wherever there is snow, there onecanski; whether one safelymayis another question, whereof more anon. Absence of snow, or snow transformed into blue ice, are therefore the well-defined limits to the possibilities of the sport.
There is no kind of surface capable of harbouring snow which has not been tried on ski, from the plain, with its unbroken sheet of white, to the rugged mountain side, where narrow channels have to be navigated amid toothed reefs and giddy precipices.
Every pedestrian knows the infinite variety there is in landscape; how an ever-changing aspect of the surface is created by the geological nature of the soil (sand, moor, rock)—the vegetation (grass, heather, forest)—the inclination of the slopes and other topographical features (downs, hills, mountains, valleys,lakes); not to forget the work of man (his houses, fences, roads, and ditches). For the ski-runner this great variety of ground is increased a hundredfold by the different states of the snow, which he learns to distinguish in the course of his outings. The changes snow is capable of are wonderful to behold, and the observant tourist never ceases to discover some kind or condition which is new to him. There is soft, flaky, fresh-fallen snow; there is downy, fluffy, powdery, floury, crystalline, brittle, salt-like, slithery, gelatinous, watery snow; there is snow as hard and white as marble, and snow with a thick crust which breaks into big slabs; there can be a layer of soft or powdery stuff on a hard sheet, or a thin, glassy film over loose snow. We have seen it in thin scales, the size of half-crowns, rustling under the ski like the leaves of an autumn forest, or, again, in the form of long, streaky crystals, like asbestos. Often it lies pat and smooth over the rounded hills; at other times it will be a frozen turmoil of waves, ridges, and grooves!
In stating that it is possible to ski on every kind of snow and on every form of snow-covered ground, it is at the same time to be observed that some kinds of snow and some kinds of ground are more suitable for the sport than others. And as regards the ground, most people prefer it to be as varied as possible. We do not like it to be all precipitous mountain-side or all dead level, or, for that matter, all undulating glade. Nor do we desire our slopes to be always smooth and easy, any more than we wish them always broken and difficult. A happy combination of all these things is best. We adore the straight, smooth descent of a long incline, with its wind-song in the ears and its snow spray in the face, but we have also an affection for turning hither and thither amongst trees and rocks. And even level running, which the beginner is apt to despise, is much more interesting and much more difficult than many people are inclined to believe.
But, whilst the ground itself should be varied, it is most desirable that the snow upon it should be of uniform qualitythroughout. Sudden changes, as, for example, when a thin crust will bear for some distance and then suddenly give way, are not only unpleasant, but sometimes positively dangerous. Perhaps the best of all snow is that which has rested for some time undisturbed at a temperature a few degrees below freezing point. Under such favourable conditions the tiny crystals of which it is composed settle down and pack together, forming a mass, the compactness of which increases with its depth. Nor does the surface remain unchanged, for here the dew condenses, and in freezing forms the innumerable thin leaf-like films above mentioned. The ski glide very easily over these, and sink into the compacter substratum just far enough to admit of easy steering.
Another capital snow condition is when a hard crust has been formed, on the top of which more snow falls to the depth of a few inches, the first few flakes of the new fall being wet, so as to adhere to the old crust and prevent slipping.
Wind-driven snow is not usually very good, but sometimes, if the temperature be not too low, it will form itself into a compact floury sort of substance, which will stick slightly to the ski to a degree just sufficient to help up-hill, but not enough to cause annoyance or to prevent a free passage downwards. Very hard snow is bad both for climbing and for glissading, for up-hill it becomes necessary to stamp vigorously in order to obtain a footing, and down-hill the lack of side grip renders steering very difficult. But quite watery snow, especially if it be shallow, often affords capital sport.
The worst condition possible for ski-running is when, the temperature being slightly above freezing, the snow “balls.” This sometimes occurs with old snow when the sun is very hot, but much more frequently immediately after a fresh fall. The cause of balling is that water is formed on the surface, which, being pressed down into the colder substratum, re-freezes, and adheres to the bottom of the ski: to this, being again wetted, large clods of the “binding” snow readily attach themselves; sliding becomes out of the question, and one is obliged at everystep to lift many pounds’ weight of mingled snow, water, and ice. Some partial cures for this evil exist, and will be found at the end of the book at page 105; but they are at the best but makeshifts, and to our minds ski-running in sticky snow is never really enjoyable. Fortunately, this state of affairs is not nearly so common as one might at first imagine, for after the snow has settled, even if the air be warm, the ski do not usually sink in sufficiently to reach the cold under-surface, and no re-freezing, the primary cause of sticking, takes place.
Another kind of bad snow occurs after warm weather followed by frost, when an ice crust is formed. If sufficiently thick to bear, and if slightly warm, this is not so bad; but if it bears in some places and not in others a very irritating, and sometimes even dangerous, state of affairs exists. The evil is aggravated when the sun’s rays, penetrating, but not melting, the clear ice surface, are strong enough to reach the ground below. This being dark coloured, is warmed, and, of course, melts the snow which is close to it, forming large hollows, which, though capital hot-houses for plants, are veritable traps for the unwary ski-runner. On such a surface, when the crust is strong, the ski will slide rapidly, but when it is rotten they will break through, precipitating the runner forward, cutting his face and hands, and not improbably spraining his limbs and breaking his ski. Turning on such snow is a matter of extreme difficulty, for the pressure involved usually breaks the crust, with similar disastrous results. It behoves us to avoid such places, or, if we must cross them, to exercise extreme caution in doing so.
A third, but less serious, sort of bad snow is commonly encountered, when the surface, being for the most part firm and in good order, becomes interrupted here and there by marble-like patches of very fine powder. This is a state of affairs which often occurs high up, when the cold is intense, and when strong winds blow fine snow over an otherwise good surface. The powder settles on the lee side of any inequalities and adheres to any slight irregularities. The ski glide very well over the oldsnow, but are checked by the powder, and a fall forward results. A little practice, however, soon enables one to distinguish between the semi-transparent, crystalline, darker-looking, old snow and the more opaque, white, fresh powder; and one learns how to make allowances by leaning backwards or forwards.
Another disagreeable variety of snow worthy of special mention is the frozen turmoil of waves previously mentioned. This, too, occurs very high up, and is caused by wind. In the Norwegian tongue it is known by the expressive name ofskavler. The ridges are sometimes as much as a couple of feet high, and, being quite hard, they are very unpleasant to traverse. They occur, of course, on the sides of mountains more exposed to the wind. If onemustcross them, a long ski is preferable to a short ski for the purpose, but there is often a way round if one looks for it intelligently.
In this connection it may be said at once that to choose one’s way correctly and quickly, either up hill or down, is a most important part of ski-running, demanding just about as much skill as the preservation of the balance. What is known asan eye for countryseems to be very largely a natural gift. Some people are always in difficulties, whilst others, often less skilful in other respects, are able to find their way almost intuitively across unknown ground. But, of course, experience in this, as in other matters, counts for a great deal, and what may at first sight strike the beginner as prophetic inspiration is often nothing more than an application of previously acquired knowledge to present conditions. It is impossible to give much information of this kind in a book, but, nevertheless, a few hints on the subject may be found useful.
In the first place it may be said that as a general rule snow is in better running condition on the north sides of hills, which are shaded from the sun, than on the south, which are exposed to it. And this is true not only of mountains as a whole, but of every little hillock and inequality throughout their contour. Also it is to be observed that the sun is warmer towards themiddle of the day than in the early morning, but that the temperature usually falls about a degree Fahrenheit for every 300 feet one ascends. From which considerations it is evident that it generally pays to climb a mountain on the south side, where the snow will be firm, and, at all events late in the year, to start early in the morning. The north side will usually be the best for the descent, as there the snow will probably be powdery and manageable.
In Nordmarken, near Christiania.Photo by H. Abel.
In Nordmarken, near Christiania.
Photo by H. Abel.
Again, the direction of the prevalent winds, as above mentioned, has considerable influence, and one will as a rule find the surface harder on the weather than on the lee side of mountains.
Another thing worth remembering is to proceed very carefully over stony ground early in the year. If a stone be struck it will almost certainly damage the ski, and very probably cause a spill; and in December many stones are concealed by an inch or two of fluffy snow, which is no adequate protection. By February, however, the covering will be both deeper and firmer, and the risk will not be so great. Grass or small heather, on the other hand, even though half exposed, does not stop the free passage of the ski, but earth—as, for instance, that cast up by a mole—is almost as bad as stones. So much for the mole-heap.
Let us now pass to the consideration of mountains.
Concerning this kind of ground it is needful to give a word of serious advice, to sound a note of warning—that is, about Alpine ground, the high mountain, and more particularly the region of the glacier. Winter among thehighestAlps taxes to the utmost the experience and the qualities of the mountaineer. While affording the intensest excitement and causing a feeling of the greatest elation when successful, expeditions to these are never free from grave danger, as is sufficiently demonstrated by the victims whom ski-mountaineering has already claimed. The proportion of accidents is really appalling, and should make the ski-runner pause before venturing unwarily into the region ofeternalsnow. To mountaineers we need only say: “Observethe rules of your craft with redoubled watchfulness when ski-ing in the Alps.” Others we must earnestly implore not to undertake an excursion in the higher regions unless accompanied by experienced companions or native guides. Good “ski-hills” recommended for downright enjoyment, and free from conditions causing undue anxiety, are rarely higher than 8000 feet (sometimes 10,000 feet); and we strongly advise the beginner to stick to such and to leave the more ambitious summits severely alone.
In drawing this danger zone it must not, however, be assumed that every mountain under the limit is safe. The mountains, as it were, recede from us in the winter, and many summits and passes which afford a pleasant stroll in the summer become fraught with difficulty when the snow queen annexes them for a time to her dominions. Gracious to those who have been properly “presented,” and who approach her in a spirit of reverence, that lady arms herself against theparvenuwho would force his way to her presence and shake her by the hand. Giddiness, snow-blindness, frost-bites, snow-storms and mists, steep ice slopes, hidden crevasses, tottering cornices, and last, but not least, the avalanche, are amongst her weapons. In the use of these she is quite pitiless, and she usually contrives to cunningly conceal them and to pounce upon her victim when he is most off his guard.
The beginner who has followed us so far is probably now imbued with the idea that ski-running is a most dangerous sport, and that if he is not overwhelmed by an avalanche, he is pretty sure to break his leg in some one or other of the kinds of bad snow which have been mentioned. Let him take heart. By far the greater part of the snow-covered ground within easy reach of his abode is sure to be perfectly safe, and, provided that he is reasonably careful, the chances of an accident are very small. During the months of January and February the snow is usually in excellent condition in any of the usual winter resorts in Norway or on the Continent,5and by going further afield very good going may often be found until the end of April.
Still, it is quite exceptional to enjoy a day’s expedition without encountering a little bad or indifferent snow during some part of it, on which occasions the difference between the beginner and the expert will be more than ever apparent. The great secret is to go carefully, but to keep moving. Make up your mind what you are going to do, and do it. A hill is never anything like as difficult as it looks from the top, but it is usually considerably higher than it looks from below. In the clear atmosphere of such countries as Norway and Switzerland it is very difficult to judge distances. The moral is to consult maps. In Switzerland these are specially excellent, but even the very old and somewhat inaccurate surveys of Norway are far more reliable than your own or even the natives’ opinion about such matters.
A corollary to the importance of maps is the importance of the pocket compass, without which no party of ski-runners should ever venture far from home. It is surprising how easily a mist or a heavy snow-storm will cause one to lose one’s way, even on ground with which one is perfectly familiar at other times. In doubtful weather take a bearing or two as you go along. To do so takes very little time, and your knowledgemaybe of great value on your return journey.
We may conclude this section by directing the reader’s attention to the Year-Book of the Ski Club of Great Britain, which contains a great deal of information about ski-running from a geographical point of view. No. 1 of Vol. I., which has just been issued, deals with important centres for the sport in Great Britain, Norway, Switzerland, Germany, Austria, &c., &c. The articles are all written by disinterested and practical men, who are themselves ski-runners, and the reader could not do better than turn to it for detailed information concerning any country which he intends to visit. The book is edited by Mr. E. Wroughton, and is published for the club by Horace Cox, Bream’s Buildings, London. It is issued free to members of the club and for one shilling to the general public.
Almost every valley in Norway had at one time its own special type of ski, supposed by its inhabitants to be peculiarly suited to their requirements; and in other lands the variations have been no less numerous and remarkable. Those interested in antiquities of this kind are recommended to visit Herr Welhaven’s very large and complete collection in Christiania, which it is to be hoped the Norwegian nation will acquire and exhibit in a suitable museum before it is purchased by some wealthy foreigner. We do not propose to weary the ordinary reader with a minute description of the various types, especially as time has shown the special virtues claimed for them to have been largely imaginary. The very curious Oesterdal ski are, however, worthy of special notice. In that district the natives used on the left foot a very long (about 11ft.) and narrow ski, and on the right a shorter (about 8ft.) and broader one, covered with elk’s or seal’s skin. The hairy ski was used to push, climb, and turn on, and was called theAndor; whilst the long one, called theLangski, was for resting on when running straight. The long ski was of special value in crossing the hard, lumpy snow so common in that wind-swept region. There was much sense in this arrangement, for in point of fact one does as a rule, even now, run on one ski and steer with the other; but we fancy that the uneven movements on the level must have been somewhat fatiguing. Be this as it may, theAndorand theLangskiare now practically extinct, and in hilly countries theTelemarkski has now superseded all others. In Sweden, Finland, and Russia, and in flat countries generally, a very long, thin, and narrow ski is found to be faster. The curve in front is very flat, and there are considerable variations in the form of groove used underneath. But for a mountainous country these are too long for up-hill work, and the sharp, flat point is not suitable for glissading. The Telemark type can, on the other hand, be usedeverywhere, and we have no hesitation in recommending it to our readers.
To the inexperienced eye there is very little difference between the shape of the ski used by the Telemarkings who first came to Christiania and those now for sale in that town or on the Continent. Differences, however, do exist, and some of them are important; besides which it is unquestionably pleasant to be the owner of a handsome pair of ski which, in addition to possessing certain advantages, are always a source of gratification to oneself and of envy and admiration to one’s friends. We will accordingly mention all the points of a really good pair, beginning with the most important.
It is, of course, necessary that they should be made of very well-seasoned wood, but, unless you happen to be a timber expert, you will have to take your dealer’s word for this. Ash is the wood most widely used, and the one which we would recommend the beginner to purchase. Hickory ski are faster than ash, but they are considerably heavier, and frequently brittle. Fir ski are cheap, light, and suitable for children, but it is difficult to get really good wood strong enough for adults; moreover, they are considerably slower than ash. Walnut is also said to be excellent, but it is difficult to procure in long enough and straight enough planks, and it is little used. A combination of pine and hickory is often employed for racing, where extreme lightness and speed are of importance, but it is not as strong as good ash.
Having decided on the wood, see that the grain is as straight as possible, and that if at any place it runs out its lines when doing so point downwards towards the heel, and not upwards towards the toe; otherwise when the ski begins to wear splinters will be formed, which will stick downwards into the snow and act as brakes. Beware of very light ash, which is apt to be brittle; the best is somewhat heavy even when thoroughly dry and well seasoned. By-and-by, when you have acquired some skill, you may perhaps like to have a pair of light ski for the mountains where you intend to go carefully and take no risks,and where consequently the chance of a break is considerably less; but you will appreciate them all the more if you have got into the way of using a heavier article down below.
The bend in front is of importance. It should begin very gradually at a point about four-fifths of the distance between the heel end and the tip, and should not be too steep. A rise of about 5in., measuring from the ground to the bottom of the tip, is amply sufficient. A good ski should also be fairly “whippy” about the point, but the elasticity should be distributed gradually from centre to tip, and should not come suddenly at one point only. We also like a ski to be broad at the bend, a shade broader even than the beautiful form shown in Figs. 4 and 5. The two qualities of gentleness of curve and breadth at the tip assist a rapid passageon the topof smooth snow, whilst the elasticity is valuable on lumpy ground, besides being conducive to lightness. The desirability of elasticity is, we think, a reason for eschewing the round-upper-sided ski sometimes sold in Norway. The round upper-side does not, of course, permit of so much loose snow resting upon it as the flat, but it makes the front part of the ski very stiff, and consequently unpleasant to run on, slow, and liable to break.
Besides the bend at the point, there is a long upward curve throughout the length of the ski, running from heel to entrance. The object of this is, of course, to prevent any bending in the opposite direction caused by the weight of the body; it also serves to provide an agreeable elasticity when one is running on the level.
The colour of the ski is very largely a matter of taste, and in nine days out of ten is of no practical importance. Every now and again, however, there will be a time when the sun will beat fiercely on dark-coloured ski and warm them, causing the snow to adhere to them top and bottom more readily than to those of lighter colour, which throw off a greater proportion of the rays. For which reason we unhesitatingly give our vote for plainvarnished or white-painted ski. Black-painted ski are, however, very common in Norway. They look very smart and present a pleasing contrast to the snow, and they are frequently recommended for mountain use, for the reason that when the eye is dazzled by vast expanses of unbroken white they afford a valuable point of focus, and so act as a preventive to snow-blindness. We would, however, strongly advise the reader not to rely too much on this, or sooner or later his eyes will surely be affected. Smoked goggles, or some such arrangement as that recommended on page 50, are infinitely preferable to any black paint. Besides which, plain varnished ski are ever so much darker than the snow, and one can focus one’s eyes almost equally well on them. The painting of ski is, on the other hand, often a cunning device on the part of unscrupulous dealers to hide defects in the wood—a fact which may account for their popularity to a greater extent than the guileless may suppose.
Ski.Modern “Telemark” Type.
Having, then, given our vote for plain-varnished, flat-topped, fairly heavy ash ski of Telemark type, with a long, easy, flattish elastic entrance and a broadish point, it remains for us to consider how broad they shall be at the middle and how long over all, and whether they shall or shall not be provided with a groove underneath them running from end to end. We approach these questions with a certain degree of diffidence, for, in the first place, investigations with a view to their answer have not been, and perhaps cannot be, carried out with much scientific precision, and, in the second place, they will always remain very largely matters of personal taste.
Evidently to some extent the length and breadth of a ski must be proportionate to the weight of the runner, a certain degree of carrying surface being necessary to obviate sinking. But, apart from all questions of support, length is of great importance. In this respect ski resemble ships, for, generally speaking, the longer they are the faster they go. Area for area long ski are faster than broad. On the other hand, the shorter a ski is the more readily it will turn, and it is, of course, very important to be able to steer easily. There comes a point, however,when ease of turning develops into wobbling, and seriously interferes with one’s balance when running straight. Nor is the unsteadiness of short and broad ski confined to what may be considered ashorizontalwobbling, due to inequalities of the ground, but broad ski are also more subject to what may be regarded asverticalwobbling, due to unequal snow consistency. For in the case of the long ski variations in the carrying power of the snow and consequent errors of balance occur in a backward and forward direction, but in the case of a broad ski in a sideward direction, which latter is, of course, more upsetting.
The Gates of the Jotunheim.Photo by E. C. Richardson
The Gates of the Jotunheim.
Photo by E. C. Richardson
Again, almost all ski are nowadays provided with a groove along the bottom, beginning at a point a little distance below the bend and continuing to the heel. The object of this is to preventhorizontalwobbling and to assist straight running. Its working is most powerful. Clearly, then, some sort of compromise must be arrived at between a very smooth and broad ski on the one hand, and a very long and grooved one on the other. Now in Norway straight running is all the order of the day. Around Christiania there is scarcely a hill which cannot be, and is not, taken at full speed, and the smooth, glacier polished mountains of that country are equally suitable for a straight descent. In the Black Forest, too, straight running is paramount. For these countries we recommend grooved ski about as long as the distance between the ground and the roots of the fingers when the hand is held above the head, and of a width proportionate to the weight of the runner. In Switzerland, however, the ground is both steeper and more irregular, and in general far more difficult for straight running, hidden water-courses, rocks, and other obstacles being of common occurrence. There, it is accordingly of paramount importance to the beginner to be able to control his speed and to turn, and our advice is that in that country he should, for ordinary going, use somewhat shorter and slightly broader ski—say, about 6in. shorter than in Norway. We advise himfor all-round purposesin Switzerland to retain the groove. But if he is going to do much climbing on very steep and difficult ground, or if he is advancing in years and has lost something of his pristine dash, he may findit convenient to omit the groove and to travel on perfectly smooth boards.
For really long and arduous mountain tours in the Alps, where every ounce of weight tells, we would recommend a further reduction of about a foot in all from the customary Norwegian length, and only a slight increase (if, indeed, any) in the ordinary breadth. On such expeditions careful going and power of control are of paramount importance, and ski-running becomes more of a means to an end than an end in itself. A little extra sinking in up-hill is not of much moment, and is more than equalised by the gain in lightness; and down-hill the loss in speed is of no consequence—indeed, in some cases a positive advantage. On such ski, too, the groove is better omitted.
The following table may help the reader to select ski of about the usual Norwegian proportions:—
Ski should be treated properly if they are to retain their full efficiency. It is a capital plan to oil them from time to time like a cricket bat. Linseed oil is best for the purpose, and a small quantity of paraffin should be added to it to help it to penetrate. This treatment hardens the wood, and renders itwaterproof and not liable to splinter. Ski should be kept in a cool place, but should they be taken out of a warm room they should be left standing in the cold air for about ten minutes before they are allowed to touch the snow. One should avoid walking on them over earth and stones. After use they should be cleaned. To “set” them, place their under sides in contact, and strap them loosely together at the points where they touch—viz., extreme heel end and base of the tip. Insert a piece of wood about 2in. square and ½in. thick at a spot indicated by the usual position of your boot-heel; then strap tightly. They will then be in close touch at the ends, 2in. apart under the heel, and the “feathering” is thus preserved.
No part of a beginner’s outfit is likely to cause him so much “sweet sorrow” as his binding. The chances are enormous that whatever he buys will afford him plenty to think about, and, alas! to talk about, for a considerable time to come. During his early efforts he is certain to attribute most of his misfortunes to its manifest imperfections, and if, as we hope, he is a person of an inventive turn of mind, he will spend the greater part of his evenings, and perhaps even some of the watches of the night, in designing something new and original which will at one and the same time overcome all his difficulties and make his fortune.
It is our sincere desire to assist him in this laudable endeavour, and accordingly we shall give below a few of the qualities which a perfect binding ought to possess. Before proceeding to do so it will, however, be necessary to notice some of those actual forms which other ski-runners use or have used—a task which is not nearly so agreeable or so easy. For legion is their name, and it is difficult to make a selection without hurting somebody’s feelings. During the early days of the sport in Central Europe (that is to say, till quite recently) the fiercest controversy raged about bindings (p. 15). But now, partly because of the impossibility of saying anything new on the subject, and partly because the discovery has been made that after all one’s fastening is not of paramount importance, the topic is no longer of absorbing interest. Not but what our Teutonic friends retaintheir love of controversy, and their earnest methods of conducting such, but the Scotchman in search of an argument would do better to start some theme other than bindings, as, for example, seal’s skin or wax. A reaction has, in fact, set in, and whereas two years ago the most complicated was the best, we were surprised last season to find a Continental friend using the old (and very excellent) Lapp binding, which was so much in vogue in Norway years ago when we first learnt to go on ski. He, of course, was under the impression that he had the very latest thing, and we did not enlighten him, but we should not be much astonished to find him next year twisting birch twigs after the manner of the early Telemarkings!
Now this plan of making a stiff and strong rope by twisting birch twigs was the earliest method of connecting theheelof the foot with the ski. Prior to that a strap across the toe was all that was used. Any other arrangement was considered dangerous. Then came the Telemarkings (p. 9) with their new methods. They bound the ski firmly to the toe, and lead ropes of twisted birch from the toe round the back of the heel. This arrangement was at once felt to be an advantage. Not only did it prevent the foot continually slipping out of the toe strap, but it relieved the toe itself from much of the strain involved when the ski has to be pulled forward in walking on the level or up hill; moreover, it enormously helped steering, and so it was adopted.
People living in towns, however, either could not procure birch twigs or lacked skill in preparing and fixing ropes made from them. Something else had to be substituted, and that something was the thin cane, which so long held the field. The canes were steamed, and bent round the back of the heel and secured in front by a clamp. This form of binding was and still is widely used. But the canes, even when covered with leather and strengthened with steel wire, were found to be inconvenient. They broke and they were cumbersome, and the guiding power they allowed of was limited. So taboo was broken and metal was admitted into the construction of the fastening. Contrary,however, to expectation, people’s legs did not break oftener than before, and, as the iron also stood the strain, a binding like that given below (Fig 6) became very popular.
Fig. 6.—Lapp Binding, Huitfeldt’s pattern (left foot).The heel is secured by means of a single thong about 7ft. long, with a loop at the end. The loop end is doubled close to the loop, and the bight passed through the hole in the ski below the ball of the foot. The long end is then passed round the back of the heel, through the bight, back round the heel, and through the hoop thus:—
Fig. 6.—Lapp Binding, Huitfeldt’s pattern (left foot).
The heel is secured by means of a single thong about 7ft. long, with a loop at the end. The loop end is doubled close to the loop, and the bight passed through the hole in the ski below the ball of the foot. The long end is then passed round the back of the heel, through the bight, back round the heel, and through the hoop thus:—
The whole is then pulled tight, and the long end passed over the instep, under the thongs on the inside of the foot, back over the instep, and under and round the thongs on the outside, where it is secured by a couple of half-hitches. The loose end is then tucked away, as shown inFig. 6.
The whole is then pulled tight, and the long end passed over the instep, under the thongs on the inside of the foot, back over the instep, and under and round the thongs on the outside, where it is secured by a couple of half-hitches. The loose end is then tucked away, as shown inFig. 6.
TheLapp Bindingshown above is Huitfeldt’s pattern. The novelty about it was the iron toe piece; the thong arrangement had long been used by the Lapps. As previouslymentioned, many people still employ this binding, and when skilfully adjusted it can be very firm, and it possesses the merits of extreme simplicity and ease of repair.
We have, however, several objections to it. In the first place, it takes some little practice and some little strength to fix the thong properly, an operation rendered doubly difficult when the leather is frozen and the fingers cold. Again, the thong, especially if changes of temperature occur, is continually expanding and contracting; the knots in it are apt to make sore places on the foot, and, like a boot-lace, it has an irritating way of breaking just when one is in a hurry. Again, the iron toe piece must bemost carefullyadjusted to fit the boot. In short, we dislike the whole fastening for the reason that, unless it is very carefully put on and attended to, it becomes altogether toe wobbly.
Fig. 7.—Huitfeldt Binding. Iron Toepiece and Straps.
Fig. 7.—Huitfeldt Binding. Iron Toepiece and Straps.
TheHuitfeldt Bindinggiven above is considered by many people to be an improvement on the Lapp binding, and it has attained a vast popularity in Norway. In principle it differs from the latter but little; but very stout straps are substituted for the thong with its troublesome knots, and the iron toe-piece is made of a solid piece of metal, which is bent up on either side of the ski, and which can be hammered into the exact shape of the sole of the boot. This is an advantage, as an accurate fit is insured. The disadvantage is that it is liable to be bent out of shape by the heavy-soled boot which it is necessary to wear with this and with the Lapp-binding. Thestraps, with it too, expand and contract with the temperature, and a very slight degree of slackness is sufficient to make the whole very loose. Moreover, the side straps catch the snow to some extent and act as a brake, though usually this is not of much consequence. The Huitfeldt binding is also troublesome to put on firmly, especially when the straps are frozen. Höyer-Ellefsen’s shortening clamp (Fig 8) is designed to get over this difficulty, but it is new, and we have not had sufficient experience of it to offer any criticism.
Fig. 8.—Höyer-Ellefsen’s Patent Clamp for use with Huitfeldt’s binding.
Fig. 8.—Höyer-Ellefsen’s Patent Clamp for use with Huitfeldt’s binding.
We now come to a new class of fastening, where the heel is connected with the ski by means of some sort of sole, generally made of the “belting” used for driving machinery, fixed to the top of the ski in front of the toe. There are innumerable variations of this plan, a very simple one being to fix a piece of the belting in front of the foot and to attach it to the heel of the boot by means of a dummy heel and a strap leading round the instep. The toe is held in position either by side irons and a strap, as in the Huitfeldt binding, or by a simple broad strap passing through the ski and buckling across the toe. In the latter form it has attained to considerable popularity on the Continent, especially in the Black Forest. We do not, however, think it worth while to give a picture of this fastening, as it is not one which we can recommend for any purpose. The dummy heel fills up with snow, and becomes uncomfortable; and as to the belting, one is in this dilemma, that if one uses it thin it buckles and if one uses it very thick it becomes heavy and too stiff for comfortable walking unless it be fastened very far forward, in which case it rises off the ski at every step and presses the toe against the toe strap, thereby causing discomfort and cold feet.
Torgersen’s “Handry” Binding(Fig. 9) is, we think, vastly preferable, for it has no heel to collect snow, and the belting, only reaching half-way down the foot, is not so liable to buckle.
It cannot, however, claim to be a really firm binding, though if the strap leading from the belting round the instep be pulled tight (and a tight strap at this part of the foot does not seem to affect the circulation) it is not so loose as might be supposed at first sight. But the chief advantage of Torgersen’s binding is its extreme adjustability. It will fit almost anybody, and can be taken on and off in a moment. On this account it is a very good binding for clubs or shopmen in Switzerland who let out ski to a number of different people for short periods. Its only moderate firmness also recommends it to nervous beginners who want to run straight and fast, and who are afraid of the slight extra risk involved by using a rigid fastening.