The steepness of the hill in degrees is marked below the outline.
Like other great sports, ski-jumping calls forth the qualities of courage, skill, and endurance; a good jumper must have a cool head, a quick eye, and, above all, a nice sense of balance; but, given these things, it is open to all to succeed in some measure, be they old or young, born near the north pole or the equator.
These misapprehensions having been removed, it is expedient to give a detailed description of what ski-jumping really is, detailed instructions following later. Your attention is directed to [Fig. 30], p. 87.
This represents the section of an exceptionally suitable hill. The jumper starts from the point A, and slides down to B, where he leaps. The impetus gained from his journey from A to B, coupled with the leap, sends him like a cannon ball through the air to C, where he alights, and continues his course to D. Here he usually stops himself by a Telemark or Christiania swing. The distance from B to C is the measure of the length of the jump, which may be anything up to 134ft. (the record to 1903), according to the condition of the snow; shape, length, and steepness of the hill; and the skill of the performer.[8]
It will be seen from this that the jump is not a jump up, but a jump down; and it can readily be guessed that the difficulty lies not so much in attaining great length as in retaining an upright position on alighting. It takes considerable practice to make a jump of 10ft. and stand, whilst anybody, provided the hill be sufficiently steep, can jump 100ft. and fall.
Formerly, in Norway, the take-off used to be so placed that the jumper alighted on the level, instead of on the hill side, and, at first sight, such an arrangement might be thought to make matters easier. This is, however, very far from being the case. A jump of anything over a few yards on the level involves a considerable shock on alighting, which is not only unpleasant, but renders “standing” a much more difficult matter, whilst, in the event of a fall, serious injuries may result. On the other hand, a jump downhill is attended by little or no shock on alighting, which makes “standing” much easier, and falling nothing more serious, in the vast majority of cases, than a long roly-poly, broken by the snow.
Assuming, then, that the slope and snow are suitable, the chief requisites to success are a sense of balance and great daring. The bolder, almost rasher, one is, the better. The outlook from the top of a ski-jump of any magnitude is indeed alarming; for note that the slope above the take-off is usually, and properly, less steep than that below; and this means that a man of ordinary stature standing at the point A (see diagram) sees nothing of the slope B C, and his sensations, at least at first, are as of one about to launch himself into a vast abyss. The danger is, however, very largely imaginary, and a bold, coolly-calculated spring vastly increases the chances of standing.
But to proceed from these general remarks to details. The ski used for jumping should be suited to the runner in accordance with the table given (p. 34). It is not easy to jump on ski shorter than this, but they may very well be a trifle longer. They should be rather on the heavy side, so as not to flutter about in the air, and in order to withstand the strain to which they are put on landing.
Any good firm binding may be used which permits of vertical control over the ski.
No other special equipment is necessary.