SKI-RUNNING.
BY
D. M. M. CHRICHTON SOMERVILLE,
W. R. RICKMERS,
AND E. C. RICHARDSON.
DEDICATED TO
THE SKI CLUB OF GREAT BRITAIN.
EDITED BY
E. C. RICHARDSON.
_WITH NUMEROUS PHOTOGRAPHS AND DIAGRAMS._
SECOND EDITION.
LONDON:
HORACE COX,
WINDSOR HOUSE, BREAM’S BUILDINGS, E.C.
1905.
LONDON:
PRINTED BY HORACE COX, WINDSOR HOUSE, BREAM’S BUILDINGS, E.C.
[Illustration: “PAA SKARE.”]
PREFACE.
Since the first edition of this book was produced two years ago popular
interest in the sport has increased by leaps and bounds. We have
endeavoured to keep pace with the times, and the present volume is an
attempt to give a really complete account of the sport, which will be
useful to beginners and experts alike. To the historical part has been
added a chapter on Continental ski-running, whilst the technical part
has been remodelled, enlarged, and, we trust, rendered more lucid and
complete. Wherever necessary new diagrams have been added, and the
whole-page illustrations have been chosen with a view to indicating the
great beauty and variety of the snow regions of the earth.
Here and there actual alterations of views previously expressed will be
found. We make no apology for these, but desire frankly to acknowledge
our errors, and to thank those friendly critics who have pointed them
out. With ignorant criticism we have been very little troubled, and
with actual hostility simply not at all.
We are further greatly indebted to the many friends who have rendered
us positive assistance. The frontispiece is from Herr Halström’s
wonderful picture “Paa Skare,” which that gentleman has given us
unqualified leave to reproduce. The ski-runner which it depicts also
serves as a central figure for the cover, designed by Mr. Nico Jungman.
To those who have kindly permitted us to copy their photographs
we hereby take the opportunity of expressing our best thanks. The
outline of the Solberg Hill is from an accurate drawing by Herr Von
de Beauclair published in _Ski_, to the editor of which paper we are
also indebted for the drawings illustrating Herr Sohm’s detachable
seal’s-skin and climbing-irons. To Herr S. Höyer-Ellefsen, Herr Fredrik
Juell, Herr Trygve Smith, Herr Durban Hansen, and numerous other
skilful Norwegian runners we are grateful for many a useful hint and
word of advice, whilst we owe to Herr Zdarsky a valuable practical
demonstration of his methods of teaching. Messrs. C. W. Richardson,
E. H. Wroughton, and H. P. Cox have been kind enough to help with the
actual production of the little work, and if there be any others who we
have omitted to mention we would hereby beg them to accept at once both
our apologies and thanks.
E. C. R.
_November, 1905._
CONTENTS.
_Pages._
PREFACE iii-iv
THE ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF SKI 1-13
CONTINENTAL SKI-RUNNING 13-17
THE ELEMENTS OF SKI-RUNNING 18-85
_Introduction_ 18-20
Part I.--_The Ground and the Snow_ 20-27
Part II.--_Outfit_ 28-52
The Ski 28-35
The Binding 35-43
Footplates 44
The Stick 44-47
Footgear 47-49
Other Clothes 49-50
Accessories 50-51
Part III.--_Technical_ 52-85
Preliminary advice 52-53
Lean forward! 53
To lift the point of the ski 53-55
Turning on the spot 55
Walking with ski on the level 55
Up-hill 56-61
Gliding down 61-65
Falling and getting up 65
Slight changes of direction 65
“Skating” 66
Braking with the stick 66-68
Snow-ploughing 68-69
Side stepping 69
Stemming 69-72
To make a down-hill curve 72-77
The “Telemark” Swing 78-82
The “Christiania” Swing 82-85
JUMPING 86-98
How to select and prepare the hill 90-92
How to jump 92-98
SKI MOUNTAINEERING 99-104
ODDS AND ENDS 105-116
_Antidotes to Sticking, &c._ 105-111
_Common Faults and Failings_ 111-113
_Ski-running Etiquette_ 113-114
_Some Useful Figures_ 115-116
THE YEAR-BOOK
OF THE
SKI CLUB
OF
GREAT BRITAIN
CONTAINS
Articles by Practical Men about Ski-running
Centres in
_GREAT BRITAIN_,
_NORWAY_,
_GERMANY_,
_SWITZERLAND_,
_AUSTRIA_,
_ETC._, _ETC._
As well as a great deal of other interesting
and useful information about the Sport.
The book is edited by
E. H. WROUGHTON,
and is published for the Club by Horace
Cox, Bream’s Buildings, London, E.C.
PRICE ONE SHILLING.
THE
ORIGIN AND HISTORY OF SKI.
By D. M. M. CRICHTON SOMERVILLE.
There are many people to whom the word “ski” must be an enigma, and
everything connected with the pastime “ski-ing” as a sealed book. The
object of the present treatise is, therefore, to solve the puzzle,
open the pages of the closed volume, and thus throw light on a sport
which, when once learnt, will be found more attractive, healthy, and
invigorating than any other winter exercise, provided, of course, that
it be not carried on (as often is the case) to excess, but is indulged
in only by those who are sound of wind and limb.
For the sake of the uninitiated, it may be explained that _ski_
(pronounced she) is a word of foreign origin, which, up to
comparatively recent years, has been translated “snowshoe,” a term
which conveys a wrong idea of the appliances in question, even
supposing it might be more fitly given to the forerunners of the ski,
viz., pattens formed of withes or wood, which are used in many parts
at the present day, and of which the Indian or Canadian snowshoe is
a modified type, and best known to British sportsmen.[1] The ski,
however, are of different construction, being formed of narrow boards,
7ft. and more in length, upturned at the toe to allow of their being
shoved or slid over the snow, when attached to the feet of the wearer.
With the exception of snow skates (iron shod runners some 2ft. in
length, for use on roadways and hard surfaces) they are the only kind
of foot gear used for the purpose of gliding on snow, and possess many
advantages over other snowshoes, not the least being their capability
of being used for pleasure, as well as the necessary outdoor pursuits
of daily life.
Until comparatively late years the employment of ski as contrivances
for travelling on the snow was unknown to the majority of those
inhabiting the more populated parts of the civilised globe, where
communication can nearly always be kept open by rail, steamboat, or
other means; notwithstanding that they are, and have been used from
time immemorial during many months of the year by a large portion of
the population of Northern and Central Asia, Russia, Scandinavia,
and even the southern parts of Eastern Europe, where the winters are
severe. Casual allusions to them in the writings of some few sporting
authors did not suffice to bring the ski into other than mere passing
notice; and they would probably have remained in obscurity but for
the somewhat recent discovery that they could be employed for other
purposes than those of mere locomotion, or keeping open communication
in lands and districts where snows are deep, and highways lie buried or
are unknown.
It may be of interest to mention here that, in remote parts of England,
ski appear to have been employed so late even as the middle of the past
century, their use being discontinued as communication with the outer
world became easier. Thus, apart from information derived from other
sources respecting finds of ski, or their remains in various parts, one
gentleman, writing from Cumberland in February, 1904, states that, in
the dales of Yorkshire and Durham, the sport is by no means new, and
that forty years ago he went to his school on “skees,” which were made
of beech wood, some 5ft. in length, with “nibs” about 3in., and that
it was no uncommon practice in those days for the Weardale miners to
go to and from their work on such snowshoes, it being a fine thing to
see thirty or forty men gliding down the steep slopes from the mines at
a speed equal to that of a railway train. The writer also adds that,
amongst the youths, skee-jumping was a favourite pastime, and that he
believes the practice was a very old one from the fact that he knew
boys of his own age who had come into possession of “skees” once owned
by their grand-fathers.[2]
To judge from the description given by the author of “Lorna Doone,”
a form of ski was, probably, known in Devonshire some 300 years ago,
where also sledges were employed throughout the entire year instead of
wheeled vehicles for carting in farm products. In the story he relates
how when, during the great frost of 1625, John Ridd was told that, in
the Arctic regions, any man might get along with a “boat” on either
foot to prevent his sinking in the snow--such “boats” being made very
strong and light, of ribs with skin across them, 5ft. long by 1ft.
wide, and turned up at each end, even as a canoe is--he built himself
a pair of strong and light snowshoes, framed of ash, and ribbed of
withy with half-tanned calf skin stretched across, and an inner sole to
support his feet. “At first,” he says, “I could not walk at all, but
floundered about most piteously, catching one shoe in the other, and
both of them in the snowdrifts (just as a beginner would now), to the
great amusement of the maidens who were come to look at me.”
From the above description such ski would have resembled those of the
Chukchis in North-East Asia.
It is due, however, to the youth of Norway that ski-ing has of late
years been reduced to a pleasure and an art; while the notice it
has received abroad is owing mainly to the prominence given to it
by accounts furnished to, and published in, English sporting and
illustrated journals, and to allusions to it in the writings of various
arctic explorers who have lately taken ski with them on their journeys
as part of their travelling outfit.
[Illustration: FIG. 1.--An early form of Snowshoe.
From a Sketch by Laurentius Urdahl.]
In turning to the history of the ski, it will be found that their
origin is as much lost in oblivion as that of the wheel; but it is not
too much to assume that human beings who have been created to adapt
themselves to their surroundings at all times, have, in lands far
separated and entirely apart, invented somewhat similar appliances
with which they could float, as it were, and proceed over depths of
snow that would otherwise bury them, or cross tracts of treacherous
ice which would give way under the tread of a human foot. In this
connection one need not refer solely to inhabitants of wintry
countries, for it will be found that the natives of other regions, who
have to traverse yielding surfaces, such as the great mud flats of
Hampshire and elsewhere, wear pattens on their feet, and are thus able
to wander in safety over a substance too soft to bear them otherwise.
Such pattens are almost identical with those employed elsewhere for
travelling over snow, and consist of slabs of wood, some 16in. to
18in. long, by 12in. or so in width, which are attached to the feet
by toe straps and thongs. In these pattens, no matter whether they be
made of withes or solid wood, we undoubtedly find the earliest form of
snowshoes or ski, a form which, however, exists to the present day,
and is met with in the north-eastern and northern portions of Asia,
Thibet, the Caucasus, Armenia, Scandinavia, Germany, Switzerland, and,
in a modified form, in North America, the principle of construction
there being identical, viz., a ring or framework of wood supporting a
net work of withes or sinews. There are, however, various modifications
of the original round pattern; some of the shoes, possibly to prevent
straddling, are more or less elongated, the length being increased as
the breadth is diminished, while some, thus shaped, have occasionally
leather stretched between the frames to allow of their wearer gliding,
instead of walking, over the snow, and thus become veritable ski; for
while the original object of the snowshoe or patten and the ski are
identical, viz., to support a weight on yielding surfaces, the patten
remains a shoe for walking purposes, while the ski becomes a blade on
which to slide. From this explanation the difference between patten or
snowshoe and ski is possibly made clear for the first time.
While, as previously mentioned, it is impossible to trace the origin
of the ski, mention of snowshoes is made hundreds of years before the
Christian era. Xenophon refers to their being worn (as in Scandinavia
to the present day) by the horses of the Armenians to prevent their
sinking in the deep snow. Historical mention, from a period before
Christ, is also made of the mountaineers of the Caucasus attaching
discs of leather (probably leather-covered wood), studded with nails,
to their feet to enable them to move over the snows of the fells. The
ancient accounts, however, all refer to the patten, but Norwegian
traditions dating back some 1,600 years make mention of the ski. The
Greek historian, Prokopius, as well as other writers, including King
Alfred of England, from 550 A.D. to 1070 A.D., drew attention to the
Lapps, who were called “Skrid Finner,”[3] one saying they were the best
of all men at ski-ing, and the fact of it being the Lapps who wore the
ski, or who were the great exponents of ski-ing in those early times,
would tend to confirm the theory of the ski themselves originating in
Central Asia--those parts of the old world from which the Ugrians or
Finns, Samoyeds, and other tribes of Mongols migrated northward and
westward, till stopped by the waters of the Atlantic on the shores of
the Scandinavian peninsula. There can be little doubt, however, that
pattens were used for hundreds, if not thousands, of years before
the thought of sliding over the snow, which led to the introduction
of ski, entered the head of some inventive genius. The original ski
were probably constructed by the Chukchis, or similar tribes, near
the Behring Straits, or Sea of Okhotsk. They were formed, as already
intimated, of elongated frames covered with leather, and were modified,
subsequently, as migration increased, forests were met with, and wood
was found to be a better and more durable material for the purpose
required.
It will thus be seen that ski were extensively used in olden times
by the Scandinavians as well as others. They also found their way
from Norway to Iceland and Greenland. Of ski there are many types.
The skridsko (sliding shoes), or ski of the Lapps, appear, if one is
to judge from old illustrations from the sixteenth century (Figs. 2
and 3), to have been veritable shoes, the feet being placed in a hole
made for the purpose at the heel of the ski. They are thus depicted
as elongated (some 3ft. long) sabots. There is, however, no reason for
assuming these sabot skis to have been the original form, for they
were, at best, but a hybrid type of ingenious construction, possibly
only used by the inhabitants of certain districts. The true Lapps’
ski, on the other hand, were comparatively short and broad, attached
to the feet by toe straps and thongs, and covered with the skins of
reindeer calves for the purpose of letting them glide easily without
accumulating snow on the soles, of keeping the wood from splitting or
fraying, and because, when thus covered, it was easier to ascend the
slopes of the hills, the hairs which lay fore and aft, checking the
tendency to slide backwards.
[Illustration: FIG. 2.--Skrid-Finner hunting (Olaus Magnus, _ca._
1550).]
[Illustration: FIG. 3.--Skrid-Finner (Olaus Magnus, _ca._ 1550)].
Such skin-clad ski were, and are still, employed by the Lapps, as
well as by others in Scandinavia, Finland, and throughout Siberia;
but several other types have, nevertheless, been used in Lapland for
centuries. In Scandinavia and the North, these skin-covered appliances
go by the name of “aandre,” “ondurr,” “andor,” to distinguish them from
the plain ski. As, however, the advantages of the skin are not now
generally considered sufficient to counterbalance the disadvantages,
they are gradually disappearing.
There can be little doubt but that the greatest development of the ski
has taken place in Europe, notably in Scandinavia, where they have
been modified to suit the different requirements of the districts in
which they are employed. Thus have the varied types hitherto been
many, but may be divided generally into two groups, viz., the short
and broad, or loose snow ski, and the long and narrow, or compact
snow variety (“skare ski”), this latter pattern being represented by
the Oesterdal and Swedish ski (originally one very long and one short
ski, but now generally of equal length). These are the most suitable
for open country, whether in the lowlands or mountains, and on level
or undulating land are superior, so far as speed is concerned, to all
others; but in broken country, or on mountains where obstacles such
as trees, rocks, &c., are to be met with, the shorter or “loose snow”
patterns, owing to their handiness, are invariably employed.
Almost every province, it may be said almost every district, throughout
Scandinavia possessed its own type of ski. In Russia they have possibly
been of a more homogeneous character than elsewhere, owing to the
snow-clad portions of that empire consisting of vast plains which call
for no variety of form. Of comparatively late years, however, there has
been a tendency in Norway to adopt one sort for universal use, and a
sub (lighter) variety for leaping purposes. It is a modified Telemarken
(loose snow) type, eminently suited to every purpose, and is gradually
superseding all other forms throughout Scandinavia.
Of accessories to the ski, the staff has invariably been recognised
as a necessity (except in leaping competitions, when it becomes a
source of the greatest danger) and should always form part of the
outfit on all long excursions or journeys. It assists the skier both
in aiding him when ascending, and as a brake when descending difficult
slopes, or as a means of defence if attacked by animals. The Lapps
use it, too, as an offensive weapon when attacking wolves, which
they occasionally run down on their ski, and kill by a well-directed
blow on the snout, or across that most vulnerable spot, the loins of
the beast. The most effectual use of the staff can only be learnt
by experience or teaching. The fastenings may be regarded as other
important accessories, and but a few years ago, and in many parts even
still consist solely of toe straps formed of withes or leather. These
simple contrivances suited all the requirements of the expert peasants,
and it is only of late years, when leaping was introduced, and the
ski put to other and harder purposes than originally intended, that
stronger and more secure bindings became necessary. Of these, there are
many sorts, all good, but none perfect as yet. In some instances the
latter may be a source of great danger owing to its being impossible,
when peril faces one, or accidents occur, to remove the ski from the
feet, and notably so when a man breaks through treacherous snow-covered
ice, owing to the ski preventing him from regaining the surface. But
while several fatal accidents have occurred in this manner, it is
possible that others have been avoided by the greater command of the
ski afforded to most people by secure fastenings.
[Illustration: HOLMENKOLLEN.
_Photo by Rude, Christiania._]
Having now given an outline of the history and origin of the ski, it
may be well to refer to the movement by which ski-ing has been brought
into the prominent notice of sportsmen and admirers of winter pastimes.
In the extensive and mountainous district of Telemarken, Norway, one in
which ski were employed possibly more extensively than in any other,
owing to its remoteness, and the wretched state of the few highways and
byways to be found there, the peasants discovered that the ski might be
used for pleasure as well as ordinary pursuits, and arranged meetings
at which races were run, and the leaping powers of competitors tested
on the slopes of selected hills. By degrees news of these trials of
skill found its way to the towns and the populated districts in their
neighbourhood, and some few citizens having found ski-ing to be a good,
and to them attractive, exercise, determined to hold similar meetings
at Christiania each winter. The accounts given of those meetings are
very ludicrous, the hill being neither steep nor long, the competitors
riding astride their poles down the track, and only jumping, if jumping
it could be called, a few yards. The exhibitions did not “catch on,”
and were discontinued for many years. The townsfolk knew too little
about the sport to appreciate it, and the absurd, if not painful,
appearance of the competitors was not encouraging to aspirants. Towards
the end of the seventies, however, owing chiefly to the exertions
of the Christiania Ski Club--a select institution with but few
members--some Telemarken peasants[4] were induced to visit the capital,
and in the early part of 1879 a ski meeting was held on the slopes of
the hill at Huseby, near Christiania, which was attended by a couple
of the countrymen, who took part, together with other competitors, in
the races and leaping that had been arranged. The Huseby slope was
one which, only a few years previously, had been described as highly
dangerous, and impossible to descend when the snow was fast and in good
condition.
The leaping competition proved most highly interesting. though in
some respects quite comical. Every man, except the Telemarkings,
carried a long, stout staff, and on that, so they thought, their lives
depended. Starting from the summit, riding their poles, as in former
times, like witches on broom-sticks, checking the speed with frantic
efforts, they slid downwards to the dreaded platform or “hop” from
which they were supposed to leap, but over which they but trickled,
as it were, and, landing softly beneath, finally reached the bottom
somehow, thankful for their safe escape from the dreaded slide. But
then came the Telemark boys, erect at starting, pliant, confident,
without anything but a fir branch in their hands, swooping downwards
with ever-increasing impetus until with a bound they were in the air,
and 76ft. of space was cleared ere, with a resounding smack, their ski
touched the slippery slope beneath, and they shot onwards to the plain,
where suddenly they turned, stopped in a smother of snow dust, and
faced the hill they had just descended! That was a sight worth seeing,
and one never to be forgotten, even if in after years such performances
have been, in a way, totally eclipsed.
This wonderful exhibition of the peasants’ skill naturally excited
the greatest interest, and acted on the townsfolk like a charm.
Their leaping was regarded as one of the wonders of the world, and
in subsequent years people flocked to Christiania from far and wide
to witness it. Then came the turn of the tide, the eyes of the city
youths became opened--the eyes of those who, during the long winter
days had, for want of better occupation, frequented billiard-rooms or
ill-ventilated cafés, where the seeds of idleness and vice lay ready
to strike root. By degrees such old haunts became forsaken, for the
attractions of the newly-found sport proved greater than those of the
bottle, and even if they failed to attract and reform the _majority_
of men just at that period, they certainly had a most beneficial
influence on many, and, as time advanced, on the younger generation,
who were able to take to the pastime before bad customs could affect
their ways. Like other things, especially before its novelty had worn
off, ski-ing was, and often still is, carried to an excess, but that it
is a healthy pastime is a fact beyond all doubt. To men it came as a
boon and a blessing, and subsequently to women and girls, who, in the
short winter days and close confinement to the house, suffered terribly
from anæmia and all its attendant evils. At the time referred to the
fair sex was debarred by public opinion from participating in masculine
pursuits, and it is not so very long ago that pater and materfamilias
looked askance at girls who donned the ski. That is all changed now,
however, and ski-ing has produced of later years a race of robust men
and healthy women, presenting the greatest possible contrast to those
who lived “in the good old times,” unconscious of the benefits of
exercise and fresh air, shut up in close and dingy rooms to escape from
the dreaded cold and the touch of an icy blast.
For some years the peasants carried all before them, both in the racing
and leaping competitions. They were steady on their legs, accustomed
to the mountain slopes from their infancy, and could out-pace and
out-distance all competitors. They did not, however, understand the art
of training; the townsmen soon saw they could not get on without that,
and ended at last in beating their teachers on all points, first in
jumping, which they practised as an art, and, secondly, in racing given
distances.
It may be well now to touch upon ski-ing proper, or the employment of
ski for the purpose for which they were originally intended, viz.,
travelling over snow-clad land or ice. By means of these appliances
people are enable to roam at will, enjoying the fresh, crispy air, the
pretty landscape, and changing scenery, combined with the pleasant
sensation of gliding, instead of tramping, over the surface of the
country. The speed attained is certainly not very great, and is about
the same in hilly as on level country, for in the former the time lost
in ascending slopes is made up on the descent. In racing, the time
made by the best men, travelling lightly clad, and under the best
conditions of snow and weather, works out at about eight and a half
miles an hour on a course of a little over nine miles, and nearly
eight miles an hour on one of eighteen and a half miles. In racing,
the longest distance ever run at a stretch was covered by a Lapp,
who, at Jokkmokk, in Sweden, made a good 137 miles in 21 hours and 22
minutes, over comparatively level ground, thus at a rate of about six
and a half miles an hour. Ordinary travellers, or soldiers on ski,
would find five to five and a half miles an hour quite sufficient
to tax their powers. In 1900, a detachment of the Norwegian Guards
accomplished a march of 125 miles in seven and a half days, an average
of some seventeen and a half miles a day, which must be looked upon as
a very good performance, considering that they carried canvas wherewith
to improvise tents, sleeping bags, and provisions, and moved up hill
and down dale, once ascending to a height of 4,000ft. above the sea
level. It will thus be seen that, in marching trim, soldiers on ski
do not travel faster, or to any great extent faster, than infantry at
other times, the only advantage of the ski being that, when the snow
lies, they are able to move about, and get along in parts where men
not provided with such appliances, or snowshoes, would be compelled to
remain idle.
Attention may now be drawn to leaping, which was originally learned by
the Norwegians on the slopes of their hills when inequalities of ground
would, during a rapid descent, cause the wearer to bound through the
air for some distance, possibly only a yard or two, but sufficient,
anyway, to create a longing for a little more. This led the peasants
to make an artificial rise on the face of a hill, and there meet to
see who could leap farthest. In no other country was the leaping ever
attempted, and it is primarily due to it that ski-ing caught on, and
became so popular in Norway as to throw all other pleasures into the
shade, and attain its present position as _the_ national pastime of
the people. To be understood ski-leaping must be seen. No photograph
or description can ever give a proper idea of it. Many of those who
now appear as the best leapers are men who devote their chief energies
to this branch of the sport, and who attend all the meetings they
possibly can. They might be called “pot hunters,” but this term can,
fortunately, be hardly applied to them as yet, for the remuneration of
a prize can scarcely repay the expenses they incur in loss of time,
travelling, &c. They, in fact, perform for the love of the amusement,
and, it may be said, nothing else except, possibly, renown. Ever since
the peasants, in 1879, startled the country by their leaping powers,
jumping has steadily improved, _i.e._, in length, and in the courage
or daring of the leapers. But, while acknowledging this to some
extent, it must be considered doubtful whether the modern wonderful
accomplishments equal or surpass those of the Telemarken peasants, who,
some twenty odd years ago, made bounds of 70ft. and upwards, with their
ordinary country outfit of home-made ski, simply fastened with toe
straps of twisted withes, whereas now men wear ski specially made for
the purpose, strapped securely to their boots.
It may be of interest to conclude by giving a list of those who have
made the longest leaps, and continued their course without a spill.
Records of leaps in which the men kept their feet after landing on the
snow, so-called “standing leaps”:
Year. Name. Place. Length of Jump.
1879. Torjus Hemmestvedt Christiania 76 feet.
1893. Torjus Hemmestvedt Red Wing, U.S.A. 103 ”
1898. Sven Sollid }
} Solberg, pr. Christiania 103½ ”
” Cato Aal }
” Tollef Hemmestvedt
(16 years old) Telemarken 99 ”
1899. Asbjörn Nielsen }
} Solberg, pr. Christiania 107 ”
” Morten Hansen }
1900. Olaf Tandberg Solberg, pr. Christiania 116½ ”
1902. Paul Nesjö (18 years
old) Trondhjem 130 ”
” Nils Gjestvang Modum 134½ ”
From the above it will be seen that the longest leap recorded was one
of 134½ft., truly a wonderful performance, and one that could only be
accomplished on an exceedingly steep hill by most able performers.
In penning the above the writer trusts that he has thrown some light on
the origin and history of ski, and the purpose to which they have been
devoted of late years by the Norwegians, the founders of the sport of
ski-ing.
CONTINENTAL SKI-RUNNING.
By W. R. RICKMERS.
If dates there must be, historians will do well to take February 8th,
1891, as the day on which the sport of ski-ing took root outside of
Scandinavia. On that day Dr. Pilet, French Consul at Kolmar, appeared
at the Hotel Feldbergerhof, Feldberg, Black Forest, with a pair of ski,
and since then the Black Forest has been the centre of ski-running
in Germany, whence it has spread to Switzerland, chiefly through the
efforts of W. Paulcke, whose crossing of the Bernese Oberland in the
nineties caused a great sensation and induced many mountaineers to show
an interest in the new sport.
There had been many sporadic efforts before and outside of Dr. Pilet’s
enthusiastic propaganda, but his was destined to bear fruit before all
the others owing to the favourable conditions under which it started,
for the Feldberg is an admirable field to insure the rapid growth of
such a seed. The hotel lies at a height of over 3,000ft., and has for
many years been open throughout the entire winter, whereas, most other
places of a similar character were formerly shut up and deserted during
the snowy season. Even before the days of ski-ing many lovers of Nature
had visited the mountain to spend a few days above the mist and slush
to which a series of mild winters has now accustomed the inhabitants of
the plains. Add to this the close proximity of Freiburg, a university
town full of young and energetic men, and we have the explanation why
here the first ski-missionary was so successful. True, St. Moritz had
a far better chance, but there the first impulse would have been
smothered by the conservative inertia of a fashionable crowd.
In the usual course of events Austria would simply have followed the
lead of Freiburg, and have been content with a very gradual increase of
the ski-running public. But here there arose a man, Herr Zdarsky, who,
single-handed, and through his untiring personal efforts, furthered
the sport by leaps and bounds. He invented a special ski of his own,
commonly known as the “Lilienfeld” (see p. 42). He taught himself, for
he had never seen a ski-runner, and he elaborated a scientific method
of teaching the various movements and evolutions. He may have opinions
of his own, some of which may have been proved to be relatively wrong,
or have been vetoed by a majority, but the fact remains that he was
the first systematic teacher of ski-running. To him we owe a published
theory of ski-ing as specially applicable to steep and difficult
Alpine ground; while many, including the writer of these lines, enjoy
the honour of being his disciples. This honour was not, in the first
instance, without its drawbacks, for a theory, especially if it be
new and original, is a fertile source of dissension. The theory would
perhaps have been forgotten, and the “Lilienfeld” fastening might now
be rusting in the patent office, had Herr Zdarsky not been a man of
action endowed with an iron will. Practice carried the day. Ten years
ago there was one pupil at Lilienfeld; last winter (1905) over 1,200
received instruction from this indefatigable pioneer, to whose village
special trains carry devotees from Vienna every Sunday.
The differences between the Zdarsky school and the Black Forest
threatened to assume alarming proportions, for, strange to say, both
sides had seen little of each other, and a host of misunderstandings
arose between them over theoretical opinions concerning style and
fastening. Fortunately the storm has now blown over, for many things
have been cleared up, and the old hands have ceased to bother their
heads about the best fastening or the best method. Thus the “Lilienfeld
Strife” is a chapter of history, an interesting phase in the evolution
of our noble sport. To put the matter in a nutshell, the Black Forest
looks at the question of ski and style exclusively from the Norwegian
point of view of all-round excellence, whereas Lilienfeld approaches
the subject with the sole idea of quickly teaching the beginner how to
run safely on mountainous ground. Had this been properly understood at
once, there would have been no quarrelling, for these two standpoints
are not antagonistic, but complementary. The general theoretical truth
is the mean between the two, whereas the absolutely practical method is
their application to the age, physique, talents, and inclinations of
each particular individual intent upon learning to ski.
In Switzerland there has been no less interest shown in ski-ing than
elsewhere, and it is doubtless destined to be the great ski-ing country
of the future, boasting, as it does, of mountains, snowy valleys, and a
thriving population. Norwegians have told me that, according to their
belief, they may some day be surpassed by the Swiss, who have at their
disposal a much greater choice of long and steep slopes. In Switzerland
the natives and the visitors, as a rule, know very little of each
other. The natives have taken the cue from the Black Forest, whereas
the visitors, mostly English, have exhibited a laudable impartiality
and an enthusiasm which bids fair to raise ski-running to the first
rank among British winter sports.
* * * * *
NOTE.--In the foregoing article Mr. Rickmers has omitted one or
two points in the development of Continental ski-running which
may here be mentioned.
The translation of books treating of polar expeditions, and,
in particular, the eloquent passage about ski in Dr. Nansen’s
First Crossing of Greenland, was largely responsible for the
first growth of the sport on the Continent. History, too, has
repeated itself, and Norwegian students resident in foreign
universities and technical schools have played much the same part
in Germany and Switzerland as the early Telemarkings played in
Christiania. We remember well the astonishment and enthusiasm
which was aroused at the meeting of the Glarus Club in 1903, when
Messrs. Heyderdahl and Holte gave an exhibition of leaping and
quick turning. Never had the people seen such a sight before, and
the good seed sown took root, and bore green shoots at once in
the shape of numerous little jumps constructed by the juvenile
population. And as in Glarus, so in other places, people were
suddenly awakened by an exhibition of expert skill to the immense
possibilities of the long unwieldy-looking boards.
Great praise is also due to such men as Dr. Paulcke, of Freiburg;
Herr Iselin, of Glarus; Herr Von de Beauclair, of Bern (to
mention only three), for the organisation and conduct of ski
clubs in their special districts, and the holding of race
meetings and courses of instruction presided over by Norwegian
experts. Other clubs sprang up in all directions, and a great
number of meetings began to be held in different parts of the
country. In Switzerland, indeed, this soon became a source of
inconvenience, for every little club had its championships which
professed to cover a far larger area than fact warranted. It was
accordingly arranged last year (1904) to form a large central
association for all Switzerland, which, in due course, held its
meeting at Glarus on January 21st, 1905.
Even as these lines are going to press the news comes to hand
of a large association of all the clubs of Central Europe, and,
although in the meanwhile no central meeting is contemplated, it
seems more than probable that some arrangement of the sort will,
at no very distant period, be found convenient.
At these Continental gatherings it was last year (1904) decided
to observe the same principles as in Norway, and the chief
honours are now awarded to those competitors who show the
greatest skill in both long-distance racing and jumping. The
long-distance race is thus, in the main, a test of speed and
endurance, whilst the jump shows whether a runner is courageous,
quick-witted, and skilful as well as strong.
The use of ski from a military point of view is somewhat outside
the scope of a book of this kind which proposes to deal with them
chiefly as instruments of sport. It is sufficient to say here
that the military authorities of all the principal Continental
Powers have given practical recognition of the value of ski
in winter warfare, and it is now usual to hold races designed
specially for soldiers at all ski meetings of importance. In the
opinion of all _competent_ judges, ski would be of great value
in the north-west frontier of India, but up till the present no
good ski-runner has been invited by the Government to put matters
to the test. For an interesting essay on the subject see Mr. H.
Chubb’s article in the Ski Club of Great Britain’s Year-Book, No.
1., Vol. I.--ED.
[Illustration: A NORWEGIAN SOLDIER.
_Photo by A. B. Wilse._]
THE ELEMENTS OF SKI-RUNNING.
By W. R. RICKMERS and E. C. RICHARDSON.
INTRODUCTION.
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 of that 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.
PART I.
THE GROUND AND THE SNOW.
Wherever there is snow, there one _can_ ski; whether one safely _may_
is 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!
VARIABLE GROUND IS DESIRABLE.
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.
THE SNOW SHOULD BE UNIFORM.
But, whilst the ground itself should be varied, it is most desirable
that the snow upon it should be of uniform quality throughout. 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.
STICKY SNOW.
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
every step 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.
CRUSTED SNOW.
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.
PATCHY SNOW.
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 old snow, 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.
“SKAVLER.”
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 of _skavler_. 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 one _must_ cross 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.
AN EYE FOR COUNTRY.
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 as _an eye for country_ seems 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 the middle 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.
[Illustration: 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.
THE ETERNAL SNOWS.
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 the _highest_ Alps 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 of _eternal_ snow. To mountaineers we need only say: “Observe
the 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 the _parvenu_ who 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.
GEOGRAPHICAL.
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,[5] and 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
knowledge _may_ be 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.