The ski should be kept closer together than shown. The closer the better.
A single stick on the level is of but little service, but with two sticks the pace can be considerably increased, especially on a good firm surface. Both sticks should be thrown forward simultaneously, and the slide on the advanced leg accelerated by a vigorous push with both arms. When proceeding in this way it is well to observe some kind of rhythm; and, as the snow is seldom slippery enough to admit of a push at each step, one should run, for example, one, two, three steps (swinging the sticks forward), and then push with the arms, sliding on, say, the right leg; then run one, two, three steps and push, sliding on the left leg, and so on.
UP-HILL.
To the laity it is a matter for wonder how it is possible to climb any considerable hill at all on ski. We remember well the look of polite incredulity which passed across the face of a mountaineering friend some years ago when we told him that a certain well-known pass in the Alps had been traversed in winter. He had tried ski himself, but had made very little of them, and the pass in question is a stiff one to negotiate even in summer. But now long climbs on ski in winter have become so common that it is unnecessary to pursue the subject further than to quote the classical observation of Olaus Magnus, “There exists no mountain, however high, which by means of cunning by-ways he (the ski-runner) cannot surmount.”
A Stiff Climb.
Photo by E. C. Richardson.
It is, however, well to observe here that some of the accounts of the ease with which one can climb hills on ski have been exaggerated. In rare conditions of perfect snow one may perhaps ascend as quickly as in summer, but, roughly speaking, it may be said that ski are about twenty-five per cent. slower up-hill than boots. We are here, of course, speaking of climbing a steep mountain where it is necessary to zig-zag (see infra), and not of walking straight up a moderate slope. Moreover, whether we slide the ski upwards in winter or whether we carry a corresponding weight on our backs in summer, the fact remains that some 10lb. or so have to be raised so many feet, and we are handicapped to that extent. Where ski really have the advantage is after the summit has been reached—of which more anon.
Up to a certain degree of steepness (varying with the quality of the snow) there is little or no difference between the methods used for climbing and for walking on the level. Snow is not an absolutely slippery substance, and the ski always adhere to it to some extent. There comes, however, very soon a point beyond which we can no longer slide as on the level, and shortly after-wards another, where the force of gravity overcomes the “stickiness” of the snow and we begin to slip back. These points are very different with the expert and the beginner, and the former will slide easily straight up a slope upon which the latter will slip hopelessly.
In ascending a steep incline the art lies (1) in knowing (and only experience can teach one) just how steeply one can go without a slip; (2) in the correct placing of the ski in the snow; and (3) in the correct balancing of the body upon the ski when so placed. The correct placing of the ski is not a difficult matter. The secret lies in raising the point of the ski ([p. 53]) an inch or two from the ground and bringing it straight down with a firm stamp. The stamp is at first nearly always made too gently by ladies and too hard by men. Imagine you are cracking a walnut—that will be about right. Remember that where the foot is brought down there it must stop. If it slips even the least tiny bit you must stamp again.