In skiing, as in most other sports, the right way is the easy and simple way. In the game of golf the unconscious, easy natural swing of the caddy boy is the despair of more than one perspiring, hardworking golfer. So, in skiing, the tendency of most beginners is toward work -instead of ease. Skiing is essentially a game of skill, not muscle. The average skiing beginner seems to think that he has a pair of snowshoes attached to his feet. At any rate, one of the first movements he is likely to make-preparatory to pushing the ski forward is that of lifting it completely off the ground. Upon which one is prompted to ask, why this unnecessary labor? Surely, it is much easier to push the ski ahead without raising it. During the skiing glide, the ski should never leave the snow.

The beginner presently sees the wisdom of this and lifts his skis no more. But the motion through which his legs and skis are going is not the skiing glide. It is more of a stiff-legged shuffle. Perhaps his skis, properly enough, are close together and maybe falls are becoming less frequent, but with the stiff-legged shuffle he is making slow progress; in fact, barely more than crawling along.

Perhaps quite by accident during this motion he happens to bend his forward knee and lunge his weight forward on the advanced ski. Something happens which has not occurred before. This ski glides ahead, seemingly without any added effort on his part. And thereby he has discovered the correct skiing glide.

With the nicety of balance and general sense of control which come from diligent practise of the skiing glide one can tackle hill coasting with reasonable assurance that he will make an uninterrupted, through trip from the top of the slope to the bottom. For coasting is essentially a matter of balance.

The skis should be kept close together, the point of one advanced about a foot beyond that of the other. The body should be inclined forward, so that it is at right angles to the slope. The knees may be slightly bent, but not the body. During the course of the coast one sways the body forward or backward as the contour of the slope dictates. All this, of course, is only the beginning of ski wisdom:

An open, unobstructed slope can be easily negotiated in this way. But it is a long hill that has no turning, and presently you will encounter obstacles, such as a tree or rock, which necessitate either an abrupt halt in your merry coast or a quick swerve to one side. Herein enter the elements of braking and steering, further stages in the education of the skier.

The most simple and obvious way of slowing down or coming to an abrupt stop when part way down hill is that of straddling the ski-pole. Altho this tactic may sometimes be used in an emergency, it is darkly frowned upon by all well brought up skiers, mainly because the skill of skiing plays no part in its operation. All sports have their unwritten laws, and some of these can be broken on occasion without any harm being done. One of the unwritten laws of skiing is that a man shall use other means of braking than that of straddling his ski-pole. But this law is occasionally broken.

When coasting straight down a slope, the best braking method is one known as the “snow-plow.” This name fairly well indicates the operation. The points of the skis are brought together and the rear ends are prest outward so that the skis form a letter V. At the same time the outside edge of each ski is slightly raised so that it forms something of a wall against the snow, similar to that of the bow of a snow-plow. The wider apart the rear ends of the skis are and the more perpendicular the wall, the more abrupt will the stop be. A ski-pole dragged directly behind adds to the braking effect. Throughout the proceeding the body should lean forward.

When coasting down hill in a diagonal course, the favorite braking method is “stemming.” This is sometimes known as the “half snow-plow.” Here again the name happily indicates the operation. This differs from the full “snow-plow” in that only the ski on the down-hill side is prest outward. The other ski glides straight ahead in its usual course. The speed is regulated by the amount of snow-plowing which the stemming ski performs. As before, the wider the angle and the straighter the wall of the stemming ski, the slower the speed. When a ski-pole is used with the “half-snow-plow” method, it should be dragged outside the ski which is gliding straight ahead, not between the skis, as in the case of the “snow-plow.”

Some skiers get along in good shape as long as the skis run parallel in a straight line, but they are unable to manage coasting turns. Vivian Caulfield and Arnold Lunn, European skiing experts, point out that skis turn much the way a boat does. One ski may be regarded as the boat and the other the rudder. This is a good pointer to keep in mind. When the skis are running parallel, there is a complete absence of any braking or steering effect. But immediately the skis form an angle, you stop or turn to the right or left.

The knack of coasting down a long hill, making a series of graceful serpentine curves, is by no means difficult, provided one is entirely familiar with the “snow-plow” and “half-snow-plow” braking methods which I have just described.

Source: The Literary Digest for February 18, 1922

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