The thickness of the ski is proportionate to its elasticity and the weight of the runner, being about 1¼ inches at the binding and 3⁄8 inch at the front bend and the heel. A stiff ski runs rather less comfortably than a thinner and more flexible one, but it is safer to choose a ski of ample thickness near the binding, especially if it is to be used for jumping.
The turn up at the front of the ski should begin at about one-fifth of the distance from the tip to the heel end. It should be very gradual, for a sudden bend makes the ski run more slowly and far less smoothly. The under side of the tip need not be more than five inches above the ground.
There is a slight upward arch between the front bend and the heel. It should be no more than ¾ of an inch high at its highest point, below the heel of the boot, only just sufficient to prevent the ski when resting on soft snow from bending downwards in the middle under the weight of the runner. The height of this arch should therefore vary slightly according to the length and stiffness of the ski, and to the runner’s weight.
Of course any twist in the ski will prevent it from running true. A simple way of making sure that a ski is free from any such twist is as follows: draw a few lines across its sole, at right angles to a line down the middle of it, and, holding the ski so that a very much fore-shortened view of the sole is obtained, see if all these lines are parallel.
Nothing is more uncomfortable and difficult to run on than a ski which has become warped and has a downward bend in the middle. To prevent this happening and to preserve the upward arch, a pair of skis, when not in use, should be placed sole to sole and bound together at the front bend and the heel, with a block of wood about 1¾ inches thick put between them 8 inches or so behind the binding, just where the boot-heel rests on the ski.
Most skis are made with a groove running along the middle of the sole from the front bend to the heel. This groove greatly increases the ski’s steadiness in straight-running, and on no account should be omitted. A smooth-soled ski makes turning easier for the runner who has not learnt the right way to do it, but this slight advantage by no means compensates for the wobbliness in straight-running which it entails. If you want easy steering, choose extra-flexible skis, but not grooveless or extra-short ones.
Most of the ordinary foot-bindings are fixed to the ski by means of a hole bored from side to side through its thickest part. See that this hole is made almost entirely in the upper half of the ski’s thickness, well away from the sole. When lifted by a strap passed through this hole, the ski should point downwards at an angle of about 45 degrees.
In order that they shall be stronger in relation to their weight and less flexible, skis are sometimes made with a convex, instead of a flat upper-surface. The increased stiffness makes them less comfortable for ordinary running but safer for jumping. The convexity should always stop short of the beginning of the front bend.
Fig. 6 shows that it depends on how this convexity is obtained as to whether and how it is an advantage or otherwise. Supposing the wood in each case to be of exactly the same quality, b will obviously be not only stiffer but heavier than a, c will be stiffer but no heavier, d will be equally stiff but lighter. It is evident, then, that one cannot say off-hand that the convex shape is either better or worse than the flat, but only that, weight for weight, the convex shape gives greater stiffness and strength, the flat gives more elasticity.
The Binding.—The question of the binding, by which the ski is fastened to the foot, is a very vexed one; I shall treat it as shortly as I can.
The binding should, if possible, fulfil the following conditions:—
(1) It should be light; (2) should be easily adjusted to fit the boot; (3) should admit of being quickly and easily fastened and unfastened; (4) should be difficult to break and easy to mend; (5) should allow fairly free vertical movement of the foot, but limit its lateral movement enough to make steering easy; (6) should be comfortable, and not likely to injure the runner in case of a fall.
There are innumerable forms of binding on the market, not one of which is absolutely satisfactory in every respect; the choice of a binding is largely a matter of taste. But, though it is not possible to say that any one binding is the best, it is possible to say that certain forms are more generally popular than others. The reader who is not a novice probably knows all there is to be said for and against the more common forms; while to give a long description of several kinds of bindings, setting forth their various good and bad points, would be more likely to confuse a novice than to help him to choose one that suited him. I shall therefore describe one binding only, the Huitfeldt, which is by far the most generally popular one, especially in Norway, and shall show how it answers to the above-mentioned requirements.
The Huitfeldt binding (Fig. 7) consists of an iron, leather-lined toe-piece which is passed through the hole in the ski and bent up at each side; a short strap passing over the toes and connecting the ends of the metal toe-piece; and a long strap which passes through the hole in the ski and round the heel of the boot.
A third strap, which passes under the waist of the boot, prevents the heel-strap from slipping up the side of the foot, as it is sometimes inclined to do when the heel is much raised; and a fourth strap, crossing the foot behind the toe-strap, prevents the heel-strap from slipping under the boot sole at the side. The heel-strap, however, will often be found to keep in place perfectly without these two straps, or, at any rate, without the latter, and in that case there is no object in keeping them on the binding.
The ski is fastened on and taken off without buckling or unbuckling the straps when once they have been properly adjusted. In order to put on the ski, simply push the foot well home between the toe-irons, and then pull the heel-strap up over the boot-heel.
The toe-strap may be quite loose; the heel-strap must be so tight that it is only just possible to force it over the boot-heel.
The toe-irons must be hammered or bent (a heavy screw-wrench is useful for this) to fit the sole of the boot exactly, so that when the boot is pushed home between them the centre of the heel lies in the very middle of the ski. This means that for boots of an ordinary shape the inside toe-iron must be more nearly parallel to the side of the ski than the outside one, as in diagram; otherwise the boot-heel will rest on the inner side of the ski (Fig. 8).
If the toe-irons show any tendency to wobble, small wooden wedges may be driven between them and the side of the cavity in the ski, but by the sides of the toe-irons, not below them, or the ski may split.
The toe-irons should be so adjusted that when the boot is pushed right home the toe only projects a little way beyond the toe-strap (see Fig. 7). If the toe-strap crosses the foot too far back, it does not allow a free enough movement when the heel is raised, and in a fall forward may sprain the foot.
If the fastening fits properly there should be enough freedom to allow the knee just to touch the front of the ski.
In order to prevent the heel-strap from slipping off the boot, the heel of the boot should be made to project at the back, both top and bottom of the projection being rounded to allow of the strap being easily pulled on and off (see Fig. 9, p. 41). This is a better and a simpler arrangement than the strap and buckle at the back of the heel with which ski-boots are often fitted.
The heel-strap should be bent first downwards and then backwards on each side of the ski, so that the side of it which is uppermost within the cavity of the ski becomes outermost round the foot. This arrangement increases the tension when the heel rises.
It is most important that the heel-strap should be very tight, for its tension not only limits the vertical movement of the foot, and so makes it possible to lift the heel of the ski, but also, by keeping the boot firmly jammed between the toe-irons, prevents nearly all lateral movement, and so makes steering easy.
The heel-strap consists of two parts; the back part should be fitted with a metal lever called “The Ellefsen Shortening Clamp” (Fig. 7, x). Opening and closing this lever lengthens and shortens the heel-strap; the strap is buckled so that with the lever open it will just pass over the projection on the boot-heel; it can be thoroughly tightened up, when on, by the closing of the lever.
This lever should be so fitted on the heel-strap that it comes on the outside of the heel near the back.
The advantages of the Huitfeldt binding are as follows:—
It is very light. If fitted with the shortening lever it can be put on and taken off in a second or two. It is not easily broken, and is not difficult to mend. If properly fitted, it limits the movement of the foot enough to give ample steering power. It is quite comfortable, and is most unlikely to injure the foot even in the worst fall.
Its disadvantages are that great care is needed to adjust the toe-irons so as exactly to fit the boot, and keep it in the middle of the ski; and that the heel-strap is rather quickly worn at the points where it rubs against the edges of the toe-irons. This wearing, however, can be diminished by filing down the sharp edges of the toe-iron where they touch the strap, and by occasionally pulling the strap through the hole in the ski far enough to expose another part of it to the friction.
Another slight drawback lies in the fact that the heel-strap, where it projects on each side of the ski, diminishes the speed somewhat by brushing against the snow; but this is hardly worth mentioning.
On the whole, then, the Huitfeldt binding has more good points than bad ones, and is just as likely to suit the beginner permanently as any of the other bindings, if he is obliged to buy his skis at the outset.
If he is able to try two or three different bindings before making his choice, he no doubt will do so; but it is not likely that he will fully understand the pros and cons of any good binding until he has given it a longish trial, and has a fair practical knowledge of ski-running.
In any case, I strongly advise him not to worry too much on the subject of bindings. With all, except the very worst and least widely used bindings, it is possible to learn to ski well, provided they fit properly.
He should be careful to see that the middle of the heel rests naturally on the middle of the ski; that the foot has enough vertical freedom to allow the knee just to touch the ski in front, but not enough to allow it to touch without considerable tension; and that the lateral movement of the foot is very limited. If these conditions are fulfilled, the binding will be comfortable, safe, and will give ample steering power.
In the Huitfeldt binding and several others of the same type, the steering power and control of the ski is obtained by the tension between the heel-strap and toe-irons. There is another type in which this power is obtained by a false sole, generally made of driving-belting, which is fixed to the ski under the toe of the boot and is free at the heel end. This system gives greater, or even absolute lateral rigidity, and is therefore more likely to injure the foot.
The most widely used forms of this type of binding are the Ellefsen, a very good binding; the Black Forest or Balata binding, in which the false sole is fitted with a socket for the heel, a great favourite with shopkeepers who hire out skis, because, without adjustment, it will fit anyone somehow—generally badly; and the Lilienfeld binding, an Austrian invention, made almost completely of metal, and giving absolute lateral rigidity, but unsuitable for jumping and disliked by most good runners.[3] Absolute lateral rigidity is not only dangerous, but is quite unnecessary for a runner who has learnt, or who means to learn, correct methods. For in braking or steering, when properly done, the effect is produced by the distribution of the weight, and by vertical pressure on the ski rather than by forcibly twisting or pushing it sideways.
With any binding on the Huitfeldt principle it is necessary to wear a boot with a wide-welted sole which is double throughout its length, in order that it may not buckle at the waist of the foot under the strain of the heel-strap.
The part of the ski on which the foot rests should be covered by a thin plate of some such metal as brass or tin, which does not oxidise readily. This protects the ski if nailed boots are worn, and prevents snow from accumulating in an uncomfortable lump under the foot. If the boots have no nails, or if the binding has a false sole, a plate of celluloid or linoleum is sufficient.
The Stick.—The ski-runner carries either one or two sticks. He uses them to increase his pace on level ground, or when running down a gentle slope; to help him in walking uphill; to steady him when turning while standing on a slope; and possibly, on very rare occasions, to help to check his pace.
To use them while on the move, either as a help to the balance or for steering, is the mark of a bad runner.
The sticks (for two are more useful than one) should be light; cane or hazel is the usual wood. They should be long enough to reach two or three inches above the elbow, when resting on the snow.
At the top the stick is provided with a leather loop to support the hand while punting. At the other end it is shod with a metal spike, a few inches above which a movable disc, generally made of wicker, is attached to prevent the stick from sinking into the snow. Choose some disc attachment which does not involve the passing of a thong through a hole in the stick, for one of that sort wears out very soon.
CLOTHING
Boots.—In order to avoid frost-bite, to the risk of which the ski-runner is often exposed, the boots must be stout, flexible, waterproof, and exceedingly loose—large enough, in fact, to hold two pairs, at any rate, of the very thickest stockings without the least pressure, especially on the toes. Boots made on the Norwegian “Laupar” principle are particularly good only in the respect of giving the toes perfect freedom.
Fig. 9.
Boot showing rounded projection on heel; sole of uniform thickness from toe to beginning of heel; and metal plates (x) to prevent wear of toe-iron.
The heel must be very low, and, as explained above, it should be made to project at the back to prevent the heel-strap from slipping off, if the binding has one. For a binding of the Huitfeldt type the sole must be thick, not only at the ball of the foot, but at the waist; it should have a widish welt to prevent the toe-irons from pressing against the foot.[4]
Where the toe-irons touch the side of the sole, they are apt to wear a hollow, and the boot then works gradually forwards. This can be prevented by screwing thin plates of metal to the side of the sole at this point. To enable the toe-irons to hold the boot as steady as possible, it is better that the sides of the sole should be rather straight (though not parallel) than curved.
The boots should be greased or oiled often enough to keep them quite soft and flexible.
Some form of felt or canvas boot-cover is a great safeguard against frost-bite, which is a danger that can by no means be overrated.
Whether the boots shall be nailed or not is a matter of taste. Nails cut the skis and make the snow ball between them and the boots. Boots with no nails at all make climbing an icy path on foot rather troublesome. If no nails are worn, climbing irons can be carried to strap on to the boot for walking on icy places. Most people wear a few small nails, though many (myself included) wear none. A complete rubber sole (which grips on ice but picks up no snow) might work even better than the “Scafe” rubber studs; but I know these are good.
Stockings.—As I have said, two or three pairs of stockings should be worn. However waterproof the boot, it is impossible to keep the stockings perfectly dry owing to the condensation of water vapour from the foot which takes place on the inner surface of the boot. In severe cold this wet layer freezes, and should therefore be kept as far as possible from the foot. It is useless, however, to fill the boot with stockings to such an extent as to cause pressure on the foot and check the circulation, for this is even more likely to cause frost-bite than is insufficient covering.
Most ski-runners wear a pair of the thickest ordinary stockings, or socks, and over this a pair of goat’s-hair socks which are more than twice as thick. These goat’s-hair socks (or what are generally sold as such) wear badly, and a pair of socks of the same thickness, but made of wool, seem just as warm.
Spare socks should always be carried on long expeditions in case the pair next the feet should get wet through.
Gloves.—These are an important item. They should be of mitten-shape, with a bag for the fingers, and should have a gauntlet-shaped arm long enough to pull well over the sleeve. Like the boots, they must be roomy. Felt or wool is the usual material.
A canvas outer covering makes them less liable to get wet through, for the snow sticks to it less. It is always difficult, however, to keep them dry, and a spare pair is often as necessary as spare socks.
Cap.—Some kind of cap which can at least be pulled down over the ears, if not over the neck and chin, is indispensable. As an addition or substitute, an ample scarf or muffler is useful, especially, perhaps, for women.
No hat-brim protects the eyes sufficiently to be the least safeguard against snow-blindness. Dark glasses should always be carried, especially above the tree-line, and should be put on the instant that any discomfort is felt from the glare.
Outer Clothing.—This should be as nearly windproof as possible, and should have a smooth surface, for if it be hairy the snow will stick to it, and, when that melts, the clothes will become soaked. For this reason a sweater is not satisfactory as the outermost garment on a long expedition.
Any clothing which cannot be removed during a climb should be fairly light and not too hot, for climbing is often excessively hot work.
A moderately stout whipcord is perhaps as good a material as anything.
In order to keep out the snow the collar of a coat should be made to button close round the neck, and the sleeves round the wrists.
The pockets should have large flaps to button. Most English runners clothe themselves, as to the legs, in breeches and puttees, which are a very efficient means of keeping out the snow. Leather gaiters are useless.
Until recently most Norwegians used to wear rather close-fitting trousers which buttoned tightly round the ankles inside the boots, and a sort of very short puttee round the tops of the boots themselves. For warmth, comfort, and simplicity this system seems hard to beat.
All the foregoing remarks as to boots, stockings, gloves, caps, and material, of course, apply equally to women’s clothing.
Whether in addition to snowproof knickerbockers and puttees a woman shall wear a skirt is, of course, a matter of taste or strength of mind. In Germany and Austria most lady ski-runners dispense with it.
If a skirt is worn it is particularly important that both it and the knickerbockers shall be of very smooth texture, otherwise the snow which works up between them in a fall will not shake out again, but will accumulate in large quantities and soak the clothes in melting.
The shorter the skirt, the better as regards comfort. Even a skirt which only just covers the knees will touch the snow during manœuvres which involve a semi-kneeling position.
As to appearance, I can assure any one who is distressed at the apparent size of her feet and ankles when properly clad that a longish skirt makes them far more conspicuous than a very short one; a skirt long enough to hide them completely is, of course, out of the question. If the thick goat’s-hair or woollen oversock goes some way up the leg instead of stopping short just above the boot, and if the puttee is thin and smooth instead of being about half an inch thick and woolly, a less gloomy outlook on life will perhaps be induced.
Underclothing.—Climbing a hill on skis is generally very hot work, but one is often exposed to the most bitter cold on the top, especially when the sun is hidden, or when wind and sunshine come from the same quarter, and it is impossible to take shelter from the former without losing the latter. This makes it very difficult to regulate satisfactorily the thickness of one’s clothing. On the whole, it is perhaps better to wear fairly light underclothing, and to rely for warmth mainly on outer garments which can be carried, instead of worn, during the climb.
If light clothing is worn, two extra sweaters or cardigans may well be carried. In this case they must never be forgotten, but must be carried always, no matter what the weather may be, for it may change quickly without the least warning, and, in any case, there is often a bitter wind high up when the heat is almost tropical in the valley.
A windproof coat of thin oil-silk or of a kind of paper-cloth made by a Paris firm, is a very good substitute for a spare sweater. It is warmer, lighter, and takes up hardly any space.
The following things are very useful, some of them indispensable on a long expedition. They can mostly be bought ready made, and I shall not attempt a description where their application is obvious.
Wax, either in a block or a collapsible tube, which is used to prevent wet snow from sticking to the ski. It is smeared on the ski and rubbed in with a rag. It is better, if possible, to do this before starting out; or, at any rate, to dry the ski first.
A good knife.
Some blunt instrument for scraping ice off the ski without injuring the wood.
A metal ski-tip to fit on the ski, if the point is broken off and lost. A few tools for mending a broken ski—gimlet, screw-driver, and punch (unless the knife is fitted with these); perhaps also a hammer, saw, and file. Small cases of tools with a common handle can be bought.
One or two small steel plates and pieces of sheet brass or zinc with holes bored in them, and a few screws to fit them; or a clamp[5] consisting of two metal plates connected by two bolts with wing-nuts.
Fig. 10 shows how these may be used to mend a broken ski.
Spare parts of the binding itself may be carried in case it breaks, and a thong of raw hide about two yards long, with a loop at one end, is often useful.
This thong, when used as a substitute for the Huitfeldt heel-strap, constitutes what is known as the Lapp binding. This is a most firm and comfortable binding, especially for jumping, but since it cannot be adjusted quickly nor with gloved hands, is unsuitable for occasions which involve frequent taking off and putting on of the skis, or exposure to extreme cold.
Fig. 11 explains the arrangement of the thong.
When arranged as above so that it passes twice round the heel of the boot, the thong is hauled perfectly taut and made fast.
This can be done in slightly different ways; I find the following a satisfactory one. Arrange the thong so that, when it is pulled tight, the points a b are about an inch in front of the heel of the boot, the loop a being on the outside of the foot. Then pass the free end under the waist of the foot, up across the thongs on the inner side, over the instep, and back to a, finishing with a half-hitch round both parts of the thong at a. If this half-hitch is made with the end of the thong pushed through it in a bight, it can be pulled undone like a bow, which is an advantage when the thong is frozen hard.
A few yards of strong cord, some string, and some brass wire are often useful.
A ski may be prevented from slipping backwards in hill-climbing by tying one end of a piece of cord to its tip, passing a few half hitches round it at intervals, hauling all taut, and tying the other end of the cord to the binding. This, however, makes it necessary to lift the ski forward at each step instead of sliding it.
The only satisfactory preventive of back-slip is a strip of sealskin fastened underneath the ski; this also prevents wet snow from sticking to the ski, as it sometimes does in masses almost too heavy to lift. To prevent back-slip a strip half the length of the ski is sufficient; for sticky snow, however, it is of course better for the ski to be quite covered. Which of the many forms of detachable sealskin in the market work the best I am not competent to say, having so far managed to do without it. There is no doubt that sealskin is a great labour saver. With its help it is possible to climb so much more quickly than without, that for long mountain tours it is almost indispensable. Moreover, when it is used for the climb, the soles of the skis can be kept polished or varnished to a degree of slipperiness that prevents even the worst of sticky snow from being much hindrance during the run down.
The rucksack, in which these things, spare clothing, food, &c., are carried, should be very large, snowproof and strong, but not heavy. Its straps should be wide at the shoulder and long.
About food, or the special equipment necessary for mountaineering, or any other special application of ski-running, I shall not attempt to speak, this book being only concerned with what is absolutely necessary to the ski-runner quâ ski-runner.
Those who wish for further information will find it in a vast number of books on mountaineering proper, in Rickmers’ “Ski-ing for Beginners and Mountaineers,” Richardson’s “The Ski-Runner,” Arnold Lunn’s Alpine Ski Club Guide-books, and in many books in other languages on ski-running and kindred subjects; for instance, “Der Ski-lauf,” by Paulcke (of which a French translation, “Manuel de Ski,” is published), and Bilgeri’s “Alpine Ski-lauf.”
THE MANAGEMENT OF THE SKIS
ON THE LEVEL AND UPHILL
Putting on Skis.—Lay the skis side by side on the snow.
In order to put on the right ski, place the left foot on it just behind the binding as in Fig. 12, the toe of the boot being on the left side of the ski and the heel on the right. Your weight then holds the ski steady while you push the right foot well home and fasten the binding. Now lift the right foot and ski, stand them on the left ski in a similar way, and fasten that to the foot.
On a hill-side lay the skis across the slope; stand below them, and put on the lower ski first, bringing the foot to it across the front of the other leg.
On the Level.—The ski-runner moves on the level with an action much like that of ordinary walking, except that he does not lift his skis from the snow, but slides them along it.
Hold your skis exactly parallel and as close together as possible—not more than two inches apart—and take a long, easy, lunging step, keeping the knee of the advancing leg well over the foot, and leaning the body well forwards (Plate I.).
Move the stick, or sticks, in time with the opposite leg, giving a push at each, or at every alternate stride, according as you carry two sticks or one.
Slide as far as you can after the advanced foot has received the weight, and don’t be in a hurry to bring forward the other one.
The body must be swayed slightly from side to side with each step in order to balance it well over the ski which carries the weight.
If you wish to get up the greatest possible speed on the level with two sticks, take three running—not sliding—steps, swinging the sticks forwards with the first two, and, at the third, giving a push with both sticks, followed by a long slide.
Then do the same again, starting with the other foot.
Uphill.—If the gradient is very slight, you can slide straight uphill in just the same way as on the level.
At a rather steeper gradient (the angle depending on the slipperiness of the snow and the skis) you will still be able to move in the same way, but without the extra forward slide after the weight has come on to the advanced ski.
If the slope becomes still steeper you will find that the friction is hardly enough to make the skis hold. The moment you feel they have a tendency to slip backwards as the weight comes on them, walk as upright as possible, even leaning slightly backwards, so as to bring the weight on the heels and throw a little tension on the toe-strap. Shorten your stride, and, instead of sliding the skis along the snow, lift their points six inches or so into the air as you move them forwards (but do not let their heel ends leave the snow), and bring them down again in front of you with a gentle but decided stamp.
In making this stamping movement, take care, as you bring the foot to the ground, to stamp it in a direction exactly at right angles to the surface of the slope. The least suspicion of pawing backwards, or lunging forwards, as the ski touches the snow is sure to make it slip.
By moving steadily and carefully in this way it is possible to walk up an appreciably steeper gradient than the one at which the skis first show a tendency to slip back. But it is no use attempting to struggle or hurry; no amount of effort will help you, and if you cannot do it easily you cannot do it at all.
If the gradient becomes any steeper than this—and except in the worst conditions of sticky snow, the slope will still be quite gentle, the skis will slip backwards in spite of all your care. At the first sudden and unexpected back-slip instinct will prompt you to throw yourself forward, strike out with the back foot, and make a sort of pawing movement with the advanced one. If you do this, your skis will slip from under you and you will fall on your nose. Do nothing of the sort, therefore, but the moment the ski slips lean right backwards, with a free swing of the body, at the same time lifting the slipping ski quickly round behind the heel of, and to right angles with, the other ski, to stop you (Plate II.). To proceed as before being now impossible, you have the choice of three different methods: zigzagging, herring-boning, and side-stepping.
Zigzagging.—Turn more or less sideways to the hill and then move forwards at a gradient just easy enough to prevent back-slipping. The skis are held as close together as possible, and moved just as before; but now, instead of being “flat” to the surface of the snow, they are “edged” (cutting more deeply into it with the edges which are nearest the hill) and one ski is more or less above the other, according to the steepness of the slope.
If the surface is very hard and icy, and the skis cut in very little, less than half their width may rest on the snow. In order to lessen the muscular effort then needed to hold the ankles vertical (see p. 28) press both knees, especially the lower one, well over towards the hill.
Hold the sticks in each hand, and use them just as before, no matter how steep the slope. If the slope be very steep, the stick on the uphill side can be held shorter, but the two sticks should never (except on a dangerous slope) be put together and held across the body with both hands, as a climber holds his ice-axe. To do so will only get you into a bad habit of leaning towards the hill and supporting yourself with the stick, and will prevent you from balancing yourself properly and walking freely.
If only one stick be used, it should be carried in the hand which is nearest the hill.
If a steep slope is so hard and slippery that nothing will make the edges of the skis grip, hold the point of each stick close against the downhill side of each foot, move the sticks exactly in unison with the feet, and dig their points hard into the crust at each step. This gives a perfectly firm support for the skis and answers the purpose of climbing-irons. It is, however, very seldom necessary.
Having found the steepest gradient which you can negotiate without back-slipping, so adjust your course across the hill that this gradient remains constant. That is to say, if you come to a spot which is steeper—no matter how slightly, or for how short a distance—don’t dream of trying to move on to it without altering your course; but instantly turn more sideways to the hill, so that although the direction of your course is altered its gradient remains the same as before. By this means only will you avoid falling on your nose, or, at any rate, struggling and slipping uselessly.
Nothing is more common than to see a beginner making frantic efforts to cross a short bit of steeper ground without altering his course. He could attempt nothing more hopeless.
It is amazing how many exhausting struggles and falls are usually needed to impress on a learner the fact that it is utterly impossible for him to advance even one single step on steeper ground—however slight the difference in gradient may be—without altering his course.
Of course if the slope becomes less steep, you turn less sideways to the hill and mount it more directly.
The diagram will, perhaps, help to explain the proper way of moving uphill across ground of varying gradient.
It represents a slope with a steep-sided gully running down it. The conformation of the ground is indicated by contour lines, as in a map—i.e. imaginary horizontal lines running along the side of the hill, with the same vertical distance between each pair. Where, then, the contour lines in the plan are far apart the slope is gradual, and vice versa.
Since the direction of the fall of the slope is everywhere at right angles with that of the contour lines, its general direction only is shown by the arrow; at either side of the gully its local direction is, of course, nearly at right angles to this.
AB is the track of an experienced ski-runner. Observe that (i) in general shape the line AB resembles the contour lines; (ii) it never cuts the same contour twice; (iii) when the contours are far apart it cuts them at a blunter angle than when they are close together. In other words, the expert (i) makes a détour at the gully; (ii) never loses any height that he has once gained; (iii) moves steadily uphill at a constant gradient, facing the hill more directly where it is less steep, and vice versa.
AC is the track of a beginner. Trying to cut across directly towards B he runs downhill into the gully, but, being of course unable to climb straight up the steep slope on the far side in the direction of B, he has to bear away to the right; and at C, when his track from A is quite as long as the expert’s at B, he is not nearly so far up the hill.
Remember that the variation of contour needs just as careful attention in its smallest details as in its main features, and must be negotiated in exactly the same way. In climbing in this way it is, of course, impossible to go on continually keeping the same side to the slope (unless the hill is perfectly conical in shape and quite free from obstacles, allowing one to wind round it to the top in a spiral). Having moved in one direction for a time, you will eventually have to turn round and begin a fresh tack.
To shuffle round, as you might do on the level, is obviously impossible; for, whether you do so facing up or downhill, the skis will at a certain angle begin to run away.
The usual procedure is to make what is known as a kick-turn.
The Kick-Turn.—Suppose that you have been traversing the slope with the hill on your right side and wish to make a fresh tack. Stop with your skis pointing uphill at the angle at which they have just been moving, and your sticks resting close to each foot. Then put your weight on the lower ski, and draw back the other, slightly bending the upper knee and raising the heel (Plate III.). Now swing your right leg from the hip vigorously forwards and upwards, straightening it completely as it rises, and turning up the toe as hard as you can, as though trying to make a very high kick. The leg must be swung freely, not merely lifted. The result of this movement, if made with confidence, will be to bring the ski to an upright position with its heel resting in the snow close to the bend of the other (Plate IV.). If there is any hesitation, the knee is sure to remain bent, and the toe to point forward, the result of which will be that the heel of the ski will catch in the snow before it has moved far enough to the front.
The position in Plate IV. is only momentary. As soon as the ski is standing on end in the snow swing its point round to the right and downwards, until the whole ski again rests on the snow, pointing uphill in the opposite direction, but at the same angle as before (Plate V.). During this movement the heel of the right ski remains in the snow where it was placed at first, and acts as a pivot. The steeper and more slippery the slope, and the less directly you have therefore been climbing it, the narrower, obviously, will have to be the angle between the skis in the position of Plate V., but, if your joints are normally supple, it is only on very steep or icy slopes, when the skis have to be brought nearly parallel, that you will find it much of a strain to turn your feet and knees far enough outwards.
Next shift the whole weight over on to the upper leg, at the same time straightening it and letting the other hang slightly bent; this movement will lift the lower ski and stick just off the snow (Plate VI.). Then straightening the left knee and turning up the toe as hard as possible (Plate VII., a), face towards the point of the right ski and bring the left ski round to the side of it (Plate VIII.). This time, however, make no attempt to kick or swing the leg, as you did in turning the right ski, but keep the left foot quite close to the right as it moves round it. The only difficulty here is to keep the point of the ski from catching in the slope above you as it turns. On a very steep slope, in order to avoid this, you will have to change from the position of Plate VI. to that of Plate VIII. very quickly, straightening the left knee and turning up the toe with a sudden jerk as you do so, and also lifting the left hip as much as you can. This will for a moment throw up the point of the left ski much higher than if the movement were made slowly. But if you try to lift the whole ski high above the snow with knee bent and toe dropped, or to swing the left leg away from the other, the point is nearly certain to catch (Plate VII., b).
The left stick is moved round with the left ski, but the point of the other stays in the same place throughout the turn; when only one stick is carried it should, therefore, be held in the hand which, before the turn, is the uphill one. The sticks of course help to steady you, but you should be able to turn without any stick in your hand, and should learn to do so as soon as you can.
Having reached the position of Plate VIII., you can, of course, begin a fresh tack, at the end of which you can make another kick-turn by reversing the words right and left in these directions.
The kick-turn, as I have described it, is made with three distinct pauses at the positions of Plates IV., V., and VI. Instead, however, of starting the turn by standing the upper ski on end and using its heel as a pivot, it is quite possible to do so by just lifting it far enough for its heel to clear the front of the standing leg, turning it in the air, and bringing it directly to its final position on the snow in one continuous movement. By then lifting the lower ski the instant the other comes to rest, and turning it without any preliminary pause, you can make the whole kick-turn so quickly that you hardly come to a standstill between one tack and the next. On a steep slope, however, it is always safer to begin by standing the upper ski on end before turning it, as otherwise its point is apt to catch in the snow before it has reached the proper new position.
There is another very convenient modification of the kick-turn which can be performed without coming to a standstill at all.
As you come to the end of a tack with, say, your left side to the hill, take a long step forward with your right foot, placing the right ski in front of the other one, pointing it uphill as much as you can and edging it inwards (Fig. 14, 1). Then, throwing the weight momentarily against the right ski rather than on it (for if you actually stand on it it will slip backwards), take a wide step round to the left with the left ski, putting it down so that it points as nearly as possible in the direction of the new tack you are about to start, with its heel quite close to the heel of the other ski (Fig. 14, 2). As the left ski comes to the snow, bring the right ski round beside it (Fig. 14, 3) and walk on in the new direction. The whole process must be carried out quickly and accurately, for if there is any hesitation about the first two steps you are almost sure to slip backwards and fall on your nose. It is, however, really very easy, except on the steepest slopes, and is a great saving of time. The position in the middle of the turn is much the same as in “Herring-boning,” described later (see Plate IX.). The sticks must be held up out of the way of the skis.