Winter Sports in Switzerland

by E. F. Benson

A good place to see the jumping from is to the side of the track down which the jumper will come and a little way below the platform: here let us suppose ourselves standing. On each side of the course stretch out lines of spectators, and a hundred yards above the jumper is standing talking to friends and seeming positively to enjoy what lies in front of him. Then the word is given, and, steadying himself on his two sticks he points his skis straight down towards the jump. He shoves off with his sticks, leaving them standing in the snow (for no jumper uses sticks when he jumps, which would be highly dangerous), and at swiftly accelerating speed glides down the slope. As he approaches the jumping-platform he crouches low, and just as he traverses it he springs upwards and forwards into the air. High above your head, a veritable flying man, he soars, with all the impetus that his run and his spring have given him. For a hundred feet or more he continues this amazing flight in a superb curve, and you wait breathless, scarcely able to believe that when he touches the ground again at that pace and from that height there will be anything but a heap of broken bones there. But he alights without shock or the least appearance of unsteadiness, and simultaneously, it appears, he is already another hundred feet down the slope, going like an arrow. Then comes perhaps the most astounding feat of all: he suddenly kneels, and in a moment has swung round with a Telemark, and has come to rest, facing up the hillside over which he has flown and skimmed. And then this extraordinary young man (he is usually rather young) will climb his slope again and instantly repeat the process, in evident enjoyment, or, more remarkable yet, he will get hold of another like himself, and they will take their jump hand-in-hand, let go of each other on landing, and Telemark, one to the right the other to the left!

This jumping is certainly ski-ing in excelsis, and jumpers tell

THE JUMP

From the Drawing by Fleming Williams

us that if the beginner starts with small jumps, and is careful to do everything correctly and in the proper style from the beginning, he will not find it either a difficult or dangerous pursuit. But he must be careful to make his movements (his crouch, his spring, his angle in the air, the levelness of his skis as he alights, &c.) with accuracy and correct timing; while it is not less important that the jump itself should be properly constructed and the slopes that lead to and from it be of suitable steepness. Indeed, what appears to the ignorant onlooker the most hazardous part of the whole affair, namely, the landing on a very steep slope, is safe only if the slope is steep, and the real obstacle that lies in the way of most men taking up jumping as a sport, is not that it is dangerous so much as that their nerves tell them that it must be, and refuse to make the crouch and spring (the säts, as the Norwegians call it) with vigour and confidence, even if they can master their nerves so far as to let themselves run down on to the platform at all. But having once reached the platform, the spring must be made: otherwise the would-be jumper will merely flow stickily, so to speak, over the edge, bury the toes of his skis in the snow, and certainly have a bad fall. But, indeed, the nerves must be in good condition, for the platform, approaching it from above, looks exactly like a cliff’s edge, and, jutting out as it does from the slope, it entirely conceals the slope below it: your eye tells you that you are merely leaping over the end of all things. But if, after considering the question, you decide, as most people do, that you will not begin jumping this season, you have only to repeat that prudent resolution for a few more seasons, and then you will be able to tell yourself and everybody else that it is no use trying to learn to jump unless you begin it quite as a boy. This does not really happen to be the case; but it is one of those excuses that are always granted acceptance, and, having firmly established it in your own mind, your nipped ambition will cease to worry you any more.

A further delightful pastime to be indulged in on skis is that known as ski-joring. For this it is necessary to secure the co-operation of a horse, and fit him with long reins or ropes, which you hold one in each hand, and stand behind the horse out of the way of his heels. He is lightly harnessed, and from his collar passes a long leather loop of rein, which passes round the ski-jorer’s body. You then encourage your horse to proceed, and if he is good enough to do so, he will naturally pull you along on your skis by this loop of rein from his collar. It is a fascinating pursuit to watch, and can be practised over a frozen lake or along the down-trodden snow of roads. Especially in the Engadine you will hear the sound of bells, and observe a horse trotting or cantering briskly on the road, followed at a yard or two distance by an upright figure that glides along after him, a charioteer with only his skis as chariot. But though it is concerned with skis, it is not exactly concerned with ski-ing, which enters into it, as an art, less than does the knowledge of horses and the use of reins.

SKI-JORING