Some runners carry all these things and the following besides:
Matches, lantern (folding), or electric torch, aneroid, compass, pincers, hammer, brandy, thermos with some hot drink.
A great many people will laugh at me for suggesting all this gear, but I do so out of experience. When one has ski-ed some years with a good many people, one looks back with amusement to the number of times when one has been asked to provide any of the above.
People go out without spare clothing, food, first-aid equipment, repair outfit. Something happens, and they at once look round to see where they can borrow. Now borrowing is not part of the game and every runner should be independent. It is easy when going on tour, to divide up the gear so that every member of the party carries his share; it is not necessary for each member to carry the whole of what I have shown. Let each carry enough to feel self-reliant, and let the party carry enough not only for their own needs, but also for any other runner in distress whom they may come across. Ski-ing should be an unselfish sport.
At a certain centre one Winter, word was brought in at about 3.30 p.m. by a member of a party of three that one of his companions was lying in the forest about a mile away with a badly broken leg. Three runners dashed off from the Nursery slopes with the man who brought the news, to show them the way. I posted a friend to watch where they entered the wood, while two other strong runners fetched clothing and hot drinks in a thermos. Somebody else called up the Rettung chef and the doctor. All this help was mobilized within an hour.
Meanwhile the man was lying in the snow in the wood with a badly broken lower leg. The sun had set and the temperature very low. Not one of the party had any spare clothing or gear of any sort. A sensible man, who had been one of the first three to go off from the slopes told me afterwards that if hot drink and clothing had not come soon, he was convinced that the man would have died. As it was he was nearly unconscious and his pulse had nearly stopped.
Dark came on and the doctor and the ambulance sledge did not arrive. Instead of going the way the others had disappeared, they tried a route they thought easier and took too high a line in the forest. The trees muffled sound, and though both parties were shouting and whistling, they heard nothing till at about 6.30 p.m. one of the watchers heard a runner near and went off after him in the dark and luckily found him. This man was scouting for the doctor and sledge and finally brought them to the scene of the accident at 7 p.m.
By this time some one or two of the watchers had gone home nearly frozen, leaving all possible clothing on the injured man. Three others stayed and rubbed him without intermission, which probably saved his life and limbs. The doctor had brought a splint which he put on by light of an electric torch and the man was taken to the station and sent off at once to the hospital.
Now, all this happened within a mile of home where help was handy. Such accidents happening several miles from home may have far more serious consequences, and every Ski runner, who scoffs at the precautions of people more fussy than themselves, may very likely have the life or limb of someone else on their mind when, had they been a little more fussy, they might have saved it.
Not only that, the selfish runner, who travels light, may well be a serious burden to others and risk their safety and comfort through his own foolhardiness.