_Cleaning Skis._--Before attempting to start, you must make sure that
your skis will slide.
In thawy weather, or very strong sunshine, the snow may stick to
their under surfaces--so badly, sometimes, that sliding is out of
the question. But it is seldom quite impossible to slide, and under
conditions which seem hopeless to a beginner one can generally get
started, if one knows how to set about it. When once under weigh the
great thing is to keep moving, for the moment the skis stop sliding the
snow will stick again, and the whole cleaning process described below
must be repeated.
In snow which is only slightly sticky you need merely stamp your skis
hard once or twice, and rub them firmly backwards and forwards on the
hardened snow until you can feel that they are quite slippery. Then
slide off at once.
If the snow sticks badly, the skis must be scraped on each other
(unless there are any branches or hard objects lying about which will
do as well). To do this on level ground is easy; on the side of a hill
rather less so.
Suppose you are obliged to start your run on the hillside and wish to
scrape your skis.
First stand with your skis pointing across the slope, and, by
vigorously stamping or jumping, make as hard a place to stand in as
possible.
If you are standing with your right side to the hill, and want to
scrape the right ski, rest your left ski on its right (inside) edge,
lift round the right ski, and put it across the other one, at right
angles to it, just _behind_ the left foot and pointing directly uphill.
Then scrape it hard up and down across the raised outer edge of the
left ski, bending the left knee well and crouching down so as to get
a long scrape from the heel _right up to the bend_ of the right ski
(Plate XI.). When the ski feels perfectly smooth, lift it round again
parallel to the other ski, and _without resting it on the snow for
an instant_ stamp and rub it backwards and forwards until it is as
slippery as possible and the snow beneath it as hard and smooth as
you can make it. Then, and not until then, you can rest the ski on
the snow, placing it on its right (outer) edge and doing your best to
prevent its sole from touching the snow. Now, with your weight on the
right ski, but still holding it well on its edge, face downhill, lift
round the left ski, put it across the heel of the other one, pointing
downhill, and, crouching well down as before, scrape it clean on the
inside edge of the other (Plate XII.); this time it is the _heel_ of
the ski which it is difficult to get at. Then bring it round to the
side of the right ski, repeat the stamping and rubbing process, and
place it carefully on its inside edge. Now start instantly. (How to do
so is explained later.)
If the snow is very bad indeed, it is best, when on tour, before
beginning the descent, to take off the skis, scrape and wipe them
absolutely clean, and dry them thoroughly in the sun or air--but not,
if you can help it, by standing them upright in the snow, for if they
are wet the water will run down and form ice at the heel ends. Then wax
and polish them well, let their soles cool in the shade if they are
warm from the sun, and put them on. You will probably be able to slide
off without trouble; or, if it is still necessary to scrape and rub
them, they will become clean more easily.
This scraping sounds an elaborate and wearisome process, and so it is.
Fortunately it is not often necessary; but, when the snow is really
bad, it is an enormous saving of time and trouble in the end to attend
minutely to every detail, and may be the only means of getting a run at
all.
It is not unusual to see a beginner refuse to get his skis thoroughly
clean, under the impression that the slower pace will make things
easier for him. He could not make a greater mistake. If he leaves any
snow sticking to his skis they will certainly move slowly (unless they
refuse to slide altogether), but they will do so with an irregular,
jerky motion which is ten times more upsetting than the fastest
movement of polished skis.
_Starting._--To start from the top of a hill is a simple matter. You
walk to the edge and slide over in any direction you choose.
On the side of a slope, however, there is a difficulty in starting a
run straight downhill owing to the fact that, as you move the skis
round, they begin to slide before you are facing the way you wish to go.
One way to overcome this difficulty is as follows: Suppose you are
standing at right angles to the fall of the slope, with the hill on
your right, and wish to start to run straight downhill.
First move both skis round a little way, so that, like the left ski
in Plate XIII., they point downhill as directly as possible without
actually slipping. Then, putting all the weight on the left ski, lift
the right ski and place it on the snow, pointing straight downhill, its
tip being just in front of and below the tip of the other one, as in
the photograph. The weight should still be on the left ski. If there is
any sign of slipping, you can stop it by turning the skis on to their
inside edges and pressing outwards against them with the legs.
You are now quite steady and ready to start. In order to do so you
merely have to throw _all_ your weight on to the _right_ foot and to
lean well forward, downhill. The right ski will at once slide off, the
right foot will strike and push forward the point of the left ski,
which will, if left to itself, come round, and fall into what, as will
appear later, is its proper position close to the side of the other.
Another simple and frequently used method of starting downhill from the
horizontal position is to jump round. The same points are to be noticed
as when using a jump in the place of a kick-turn. Bring the feet level,
spring from the ball of the foot, press the _knees_ as well as the
feet together, hold the skis parallel, and don't let their heels drop.
You must land leaning well forward, so that the general direction of
the body and legs is at right angles to the slope, _not_ vertical,
otherwise the skis will run from under you.
This jump round is easier than the first one described, being only a
quarter-turn, while the other is a half-turn.
_Straight-running._--As you begin to slide, place yourself in the
position of Plates XIV. and XV., which is the normal one for running
downhill--skis held in contact, so that they leave a single track;
one ski about a foot in advance of the other; the advanced leg almost
straight at the knee, the other more bent; nearly all the weight on the
back foot; the inside of the front knee pressed against the _kneecap_
of the other; body erect; arms hanging easily by the sides; stick, or
sticks, if carried, held clear of the snow.
Hold yourself perfectly easily and without stiffness, especially at
the knees, which should give to the inequalities of the ground. It is
far better to stand too loosely, and sway about somewhat, than to keep
every muscle tense.
You can keep the skis together without effort by bending the knees and
ankles well inwards, so as to place the skis slightly on their inside
edges; they will then tend to run together rather than to separate.
Take the greatest care to avoid any approach to a bow-legged position,
which would edge the skis outwards. There should be no daylight visible
between your knees to a person standing in front of you.
If you should find the skis running wide apart with the weight equally
on both, don't try to force them together, but throw all your weight
on to one ski, and then you will be able to move back the other quite
easily to its proper position.
Carry the stick, or sticks, as shown in the photographs (Plates XIV.
and XV.). On no account hold a single stick (or the two sticks placed
together) in both hands. If you feel the smallest tendency to do so,
practise at first with nothing in your hands.
This will save you from acquiring the habit of falling into the
deplorable attitude shown in Plate XVI., or the almost equally bad one
in which the stick is held out in front transversely like a balancing
pole, ready for the teeth of its owner if he happens to pitch forwards.
If their weight or length makes it difficult to keep the sticks clear
of the snow when held by the ends, hold them rather nearer the middle,
but not _much_ nearer or they will be more likely to hurt you if you
fall.
Don't hold out the arms horizontally from the shoulders, for that is
tiring and ungraceful.
The knees, as I said, should give to small inequalities of the ground;
but as you are almost sure instinctively to stiffen them a little when
you find yourself approaching a bump or hollow which looks likely
to upset your balance, it is as well to bend or straighten them
_voluntarily_ according to circumstances. As you go over a mound, for
instance, bend the knees and let the body sink; if it is necessary to
sink low, raise the heel of the back foot and let more weight fall on
the advanced one. As you cross a hollow, straighten the knees and rise
as high as you can. In this way the pressure of the skis on the snow
will vary but little and the unevenness of the ground will scarcely be
felt. The feeling will be that of moving steadily and smoothly along,
lifting the skis over the hillocks, and pressing them down into the
hollows. A spectator who can only see your head and body should hardly
know that the ground over which you are moving is not perfectly smooth.
In this way you can negotiate short variations of gradient where the
general angle of the slope remains constant. In the case of larger
inequalities, or where the general angle of the slope changes, you
must alter your procedure. The line from your centre of gravity to its
point of support must always be at right angles to the surface of the
slope, so, where the ground becomes steeper, you will have to lean more
forward, and less so where it becomes less steep. But though you will
have to tilt yourself forward consciously as you pass on to a steeper
slope, you may safely leave to unconscious instinct the backward lean
in the opposite case. If you try to lean backward consciously, you are
almost certain to overdo it and to sit down.
There is a further safeguard in the case of sudden changes of gradient,
very rough ground, snow of varying consistency which alternately checks
and accelerates the speed, and, in fact, anything which makes it
difficult to keep the balance-that is, to drop into what is generally
known as the "Telemark" position (Plates XVII., XVIII., XIX.), because
it is the one held during the swing of that name.
To assume this attitude, you shift the weight from the back foot
to the advanced one, and then sink down, leaning the body forwards,
bending both knees, and sliding the back ski still farther back until
its bend is level with the leading ankle.
Practically all your weight should then be upon the leading foot,
and upon its heel, no less than its toes. To make sure of this, the
advanced leg must be bent at the knee almost to a right angle, and
the knee must be kept well forward, so that the leg, from the knee
downwards, will be at right angles to the ski, no matter how steep may
be the slope.
If the front foot is thrust forward in advance of the knee, too
much weight will fall on the _toe_ (unlikely as it may appear) and,
moreover, some weight will be thrown on the back foot, which should
carry next to none. Let the back knee drop until quite close to the ski
(when crossing uneven ground it will very likely touch it) and raise
the heel of the back foot as far as possible. That leg should then be
perfectly relaxed and easy. Keep the skis close together as before, so
that they leave a single track, by edging them a trifle inwards and
pressing both _knees_, especially the back one, well inwards so that,
seen from in front or behind, they overlap.
Practise running in this position with either foot leading, taking
care to keep the weight well on the front foot. It is an indispensable
accomplishment; and although at first it may not seem so easy a
position as the normal one, it is such a help to the balance that later
on you must be on your guard or you may contract the bad habit of
running constantly in this position when there is no real need for it.
In this position not only is the centre of gravity lowered, but the
base of support is considerably lengthened, and the fore and aft
stability is thus enormously increased. By means of it you will be
able to move with perfect steadiness over ground which would almost
inevitably upset you if you were to stand up in the normal position.
In this, just as in the normal position, you can consciously raise and
lower yourself to allow for uneven ground, by bending or straightening
the advanced leg; but this will seldom be necessary, except for very
abrupt inequalities.
Even sudden changes of speed have little power to disturb your balance
when you are running in this attitude. If the gradient suddenly
becomes much steeper, as in Plates XVIII. and XIX., you should give
a determined plunge forwards, as though trying to get ahead of your
skis. If, however, you are taken by surprise, and run suddenly on to
an invisible icy patch or over a steep drop in bad light, you will
probably at the worst only find your weight thrown on to the back foot,
and will be able to recover yourself. On the other hand, if the speed
is checked and you are thrown forwards, the back foot will tend to rise
into the air, and, receiving the weight of the ski, will most likely
just save you. If the check is so abrupt as to throw you right off your
balance forwards, you can often save yourself by bringing, with a quick
stride, the disengaged back foot to the front to receive your weight.
Indeed you are almost sure to do so instinctively.
Another position, which is employed by some runners under circumstances
such as I have just described, is as follows:--
The runner crouches as low as possible, almost sitting on the raised
heel of the back foot; the front leg, from the knee downwards, is
perpendicular to the ski, but its foot is not much farther ahead than
in the normal running position; the back knee is pressed against the
inside of the front leg, just above the ankle.
This attitude is less tiring to hold than the Telemark position, but
is, I think, less of a safeguard to the balance when the speed changes
suddenly or the ground is very rough.
All that I have just said has reference only to the preservation of the
balance in a fore and aft direction. The question of lateral stability
is far simpler; on all ordinary occasions it is sufficiently secured by
keeping the skis as close together, and so making as narrow a track as
possible.
The reason for this is not quite self-evident, but is easily explained.
If a bicycle be ridden on bumpy ground, it will not be tilted sideways
as it crosses the side of an undulation, and will have no tendency to
upset unless it actually side-slips.
A tricycle, on the other hand, or any vehicle with a wide wheel-base,
will under similar circumstances be more or less tilted according
to the angle of the ground, and will, unless it has a _very_ wide
wheel-base and a low centre of gravity, be easily upset by a sudden
transverse variation in the angle of the ground, especially when moving
fast.
The diagram shows how a ski-runner when holding his skis apart may be
compared with a tricycle, when holding them together with a bicycle.
This is not quite a fair simile, for, while the cases of the bicycle
and of the ski-runner in the single-track position are exactly
analogous, a man with his skis apart is not a rigid construction like a
tricycle, but, by letting his knees give and by swaying his body, can
adapt himself to the change of gradient.
Still, the tendency is always, especially in the case of the beginner,
for the legs to stiffen when they ought to yield, and on this account
alone the single-track position is the safer.
[Illustration: FIG. 27.]
There are, moreover, two further objections--and very strong ones--to
separating the skis.
One is that it is impossible to run with the skis apart without holding
the feet about level, instead of keeping one well ahead of the other.
With the feet level the runner has far less stability in a fore and
aft direction, and, without support from his stick, can hardly hope to
keep his balance in the event of a very sudden change of speed. The
other objection is that when the skis are separated each one has to
be kept straight independently. At a low speed it is perhaps not very
difficult to do this, but at a high speed it is by no means easy, and,
of course, any divergence or convergence of the skis is almost certain
to cause a fall before it can be checked.
When held against each other, however, the skis, if properly made, will
run perfectly straight and need no attention at all. Obviously they
cannot converge, and the least inward pressure or edging will prevent
them from running apart.
The single-track position, then, has many advantages. The only thing
against it is its unsteadiness in the event of side-slip. But under
ordinary conditions of snow, a ski, when moving straight ahead, either
directly down the slope or obliquely across it, will show no tendency
to side-slip, not even when, in the latter case, the slope is very
steep (provided, of course, the ski be held normally, _i.e._ edged).
Under such conditions you can always run with the skis held close
together in either the normal or the Telemark position, and there can
be no excuse for deliberately separating them.
When running on a hard icy crust, however, it is sometimes impossible
to prevent the skis from side-slipping. They are, of course, much more
apt to side-slip when moving across a slope (especially a steep one)
than when running straight down it; indeed when traversing a _steep_
slope they may side-slip even in _soft_ snow if that is shallow and
rests on a slippery crust. But though they will generally run straight
downhill with absolute steadiness on snow that makes them side-slip
badly when traversing, the surface may be so extremely slippery that
they will side-slip even in a direct descent owing to small _lateral_
undulations of the ground.
As soon, in either case, as the tendency to side-slip becomes so
pronounced that you are really hopelessly unsteady in the single-track
position, you will, if you still want to run at full speed, have to
separate the feet more or less and hold them about level. Do not
separate the feet more than just enough to steady you, and do not do it
at all until you are quite sure it is absolutely necessary; try merely
to separate them a little for a moment when the side-slip unsteadies
you and to recover the normal _position_ instantly; some runners
seem able to hold the single-track position at any speed on the most
slippery snow--possibly by making imperceptible jumps to one side or
another as they feel the slip begin.
When running with your feet level and apart, your fore and aft balance
will, of course, be more precarious than in the normal position; you
had better, therefore, lower your centre of gravity by crouching as
low as you can with steadiness, _i.e._ not so low that all your weight
comes on the heels or that they have to be raised at all. In the
level-footed position your best safeguard in case of sudden changes of
gradient or snow consistency is _not_ to lean backwards or forwards,
but _to move the feet forwards or backwards_, which amounts to exactly
the same thing but is a much quicker process.
This may not be quite clear. Let me try to explain. As I have already
said, the line from your centre of gravity to your point of support
must always be about at right angles to the slope. Suppose then that
you are running fast down a slope with an abrupt mound in front of
you, instead of trying to readjust your balance as you pass on to the
mound by leaning suddenly _backwards_, do so by still more suddenly
doubling _forwards_ a bit at the hips and, so to speak, _lifting
your feet forwards and placing them_ AGAINST _the mound to receive
your weight_. If, on the other hand, you suddenly run off a gentle
slope on to a steep one, quickly hollow your back a little, and, by
straightening yourself at the hips and bending your knees more, lift
your feet _backwards_ and place them against the slope behind you.
By "lifting" the skis I do not mean actually _raising_ them from the
snow, but only taking the weight off them a trifle, and _sliding_ them.
These movements are exactly the same as those you would make if, when
standing with your feet tied together, you were pushed off your balance
either forwards or backwards and were then to save yourself by a little
jump in the corresponding direction. _Leaning_ backwards and forwards,
which as it is done principally on the hinge of the ankles cannot be
done quickly, may be used as a _preventive_ of loss of balance, but is
practically useless as a _cure_; this moving of the _feet_, however, is
particularly useful for the latter purpose. If you try the two methods
when running quickly down a very undulating icy path, you will soon
decide in favour of the latter.
You can, of course, do the same thing when running in steady snow with
the skis together in the normal position, but it is then simpler and
quicker to move _one_ foot backwards or forwards instead of moving both.
Although, as I have said, side-slip occurs more readily when you are
traversing a slope, you will then find it far less upsetting than when
you are running straight downhill. When traversing in normal position
with the skis together, the upper foot should lead and the weight be on
the lower; with the lower foot weighted it will take a very sudden and
pronounced side-slip to upset you, for as the lower ski slips the upper
will receive the weight, and the sudden pressure will probably make its
edge hold long enough for you to recover your balance. Moreover, you
will generally, when traversing, be running pretty slowly (you can, of
course, go as slowly as you like by making the angle of your traverse
a very gradual one), which makes side-slip still less likely to upset
you. It is, therefore, hardly ever necessary to traverse with your skis
more than a few inches apart.
If you wish to run a traverse at high speed where the tendency to
side-slip is very pronounced, do not make violent efforts to prevent
it by edging your skis extra hard, but simply keep them normally edged
with your ankles, and especially your knees, well over towards the
hill, and then _let_ them side-slip if they want to. Make no attempt
to lean towards the slope, but keep your weight well outwards and
forwards, imagine that you are making for a spot rather _below_ where
your skis are pointing, and run as _lightly_ as possible, cultivating,
if you can, a sort of semi-sideways _floating_ feeling, which is hardly
describable but which you will certainly recognise if you do as I have
told you.
Generally speaking, the harder and slipperier the snow the more lightly
you should try to run, the softer the snow the more heavily you should
try to drive your skis into it.
You can entirely disregard the hard ruts of ski tracks unless you are
obliged to cross them at a narrow angle. If you cannot help doing this
(which you should try to if running fast) be ready, if one of the
skis or both get turned off their course, to lift one quickly and put
it straight again before you lose your balance. You should never be
afraid of lifting your skis, especially on hard snow; by stepping about
quickly you can not only keep your balance even when running fast, but
can alter your course, though in the latter case you must be careful
_as_ you put the first-lifted ski to the snow again to lift the other
_instantly_, or they will run apart for a moment and probably upset
you. The greater your speed, the less of course will be the change of
direction that you can make safely in one step, but by pattering round
quickly you can turn fairly short when going at a good rate.
When running _straight downhill_ in either normal or Telemark position
either foot may lead, and you should change about, when practising,
until you find you can lead as easily with one as with the other.
When _traversing_ in _normal_ position the upper foot should lead, in
_Telemark_ position, the lower foot--that is to say, that in traversing
the _weighted_ foot should _always_ be the _lower_ one.
The more weight is carried by the lower ski, the less difficulty will
you find in keeping the other one close to the side of it.
Should the upper ski show a tendency to run uphill, away from the
other, put no more weight on it, but merely turn its inner edge
slightly downwards, and press on the toe, when it will run back to its
proper position.
If you have any difficulty in preventing it from running downwards,
and crossing the other, you can slide it to the rear, and drop into
Telemark position, lower foot leading.
Although, generally speaking, you should avoid all effort and hold
yourself easily and loosely, you must, when your balance is disturbed,
make every effort in your power to keep it.
One very often falls simply through expecting to fall, and doing
nothing to save oneself, when a determination not to fall would carry
one through.
Don't be afraid of running straight down the steepest slope, _provided
the ground is open and fairly smooth, the snow easy and safe_,[7] _and
the change of gradient at the bottom not sudden_. Remember that the
pace does not go on increasing, but attains its maximum in a second
or two. It is only while you are gathering way that the sensation is
at all alarming; when full speed is reached--provided the ground be
smooth--a steep slope feels no more difficult than a gradual one. If,
however, there are any undulations--however small--you had better run
down a steep slope in the Telemark position. For though on a moderate
slope you might hardly notice them, or could allow for them as directed
above, on a steep slope the high speed will very much increase their
effect, and to run over a small mound may shoot you into the air if
your legs happen to be rigid at the moment.
Whenever you are actually running freely and not trying to put on
the brake, or stop (explained later), the very best safeguard to the
balance is a desire to go faster.
Should you not happen to want to go faster, pretend you do, if you are
not above such childishness.
No amount of wanting, of course, will affect your speed, but this
mental attitude will enormously increase your steadiness by removing
the fatal tendency to lean backwards.
Similarly, to wish to go slower will not make you do so, but will very
likely be the sole cause of a fall.
Some such sentence as "This is very slow," repeated to oneself as one
goes over any difficult ground, is a more potent spell than might be
imagined.