Learning to Ski the Scandinavian Way – Part 1
ANYBODY can ski. (You pronounce it “she,” experts tell us, if you wish to be strictly au fait.) It is a man’s sport, and woman’s and a child’s, and the difficulty is chiefly in appearance, for, we are assured, “it is fairly easy to learn.” As in pronouncing the name of the sport, once you acquired the knack of it, it is simple. “Getting started right, and then following along with conscientious practise,” says Elon Jessup, a veteran skier, who is responsible for these and other assurances that the sport is as safe and easy as it is pleasant, “makes one reasonably proficient in shorter time than you would believe.” He gives in The Outlook (New York) an incident from his personal experience.
A few winters ago a friend and I visited Norway, and one of the first sights we saw in the snow-smothered streets of Christiania was a three-year-old mite, a youngster, toddling merrily along on a pair of skis. In days which followed we encountered numerous other skiers of the same tender age, and more than a few grandfathers and grandmothers well past the seventy mark gliding and coasting happily across the snow. For in Norway everybody skis, every member of the Norwegian household. There is no age limit.
My friend told me that he had never been on a pair of skis, and then loathfully admitted that the truth of the matter was that he had never quite had the courage to try the sport. The long, ungainly. snow-boats looked so uncontrollable that he thought it best to leave them to the experts. The streets of Christiania, however, changed his attitude. He caught the infection of skiing, and remarked that if a three-year-old youngster could handle a pair of skis, he guessed he could; and, after the usual amount of awkwardness which is the share of the beginner, he did. Before leaving Norway he became a confirmed skiing “fan,” and has remained so ever since. He lives in New York, and the only-thing he has against this city is that there is not snow enough. When the white flakes are late in coming, he gets restless, hauls out his skis, and takes a train to the Adirondacks or to the White Mountains.
This incident, suggests Mr. Jessup, seems to be fairly significant of three well established facts:
First, that many people who have never tried skiing think they can’t do it. Second, when they try it, they find they can. Third, when they find they can, they become lifelong enthusiasts.
The universal popularity of skiing in Norway is due partly to tradition and partly- because it is such very good fun. Skiing originated in Norway more centuries ago than anybody knows anything about, and it is the national sport of the country. In the United States it has won its way to general popularity wherever snow flies, solely through its merits as a sport, and all this within the past ten years or so. Before that time a ski was a museum curiosity in this country. To-day, in New Hampshire, Michigan and Minnesota the ski is seen almost as frequently as our own traditional sleigh. And more than once in New England I have seen five- and six-year-old youngsters gliding along on skis just as tho they were in Norway.
Skiing of course, like other sports, is a game of skill, and, by the same token, its adherents are of varied grades of proficiency. In any sport one need not be a champion in order to have a whopping good time. In golf, for example, there is a vast army of golfers that can not go around a course in less than 115, but even this score means a reasonable amount of proficiency and gives keen enjoyment. It is a good deal the same way with skiing. There are comparatively few experts. The best of skiing is the straight running, coasting, and a few simple turns, and it is within the power of anybody to learn these.
Some skiers do not get along very well, even when they have been at the game for some time. The reason, as a rule, is that they have started wrong. Just as the golf beginner is fascinated by the full swing and wants to try that before mastering the fundamentals of the game, so is the skiing beginner thrilled by the thought of a speedy coast down a steep hill. Coasting on skis is mighty good fun and not at all difficult after one has begun to feel somewhat at home on the fleet wooden wings, but it is several stages along in the game.
Skiing and golf are comparable, says the writer, in a number of respects. For instance:
In each case there is a gradual building-up process. Each new movement during one’s advancement is directly connected with some fundamental that has previously been learned. Which is the reason why it is wise for the skiing beginner to resist the temptation of a thrilling coast down hill (which he is certain to take with atrocious form) and, instead, stick for the time being to the less imaginative level ground. Let him first learn how to stand on skis without toppling over, feel at ease on the long snow-boats, learn how to balance himself, get into the habit of keeping the skis close together instead of sprawled apart. In short, let him first acquire the correct skiing glide. In doing so he can to advantage forego the help of ski-poles. Ski-poles add greatly to the speed and enjoyment of the sport, but the beginner will eventually become a better skier if he goes through the first stages without their-help.
Source: The Literary Digest for February 18, 1922
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