D. M. M. Crichton Somerville

Summary

D. M. M. Crichton Somerville Ski-running

Off he goes! For ten minutes the swish of the spurting snow is sweet music to his ears; for ten minutes he scorns the soaring albatross, as he feels himself buoyed by the feathering ski, swaying from curve to curve. The excitement of the start has left him, and though ten minutes may seem a short time he enjoys them to the full, for he is calm, and glides easily, without a show of strength, without effort or strain. He feels the mighty power of the rush, the living force which is gathering as he flies, which drives him along, but which is nevertheless under his absolute control.
Source: Gutenberg

D. M. M. Crichton Somerville Ski-running

Wherever there is snow, there one can ski; whether one safely may is another question, whereof more anon. Absence of snow, or snow transformed into blue ice, are therefore the well-defined limits to the possibilities of the sport.
There is no kind of surface capable of harbouring snow which has not been tried on ski, from the plain, with its unbroken sheet of white, to the rugged mountain side, where narrow channels have to be navigated amid toothed reefs and giddy precipices.
Every pedestrian knows the infinite variety there is in landscape
Source: Gutenberg

D. M. M. Crichton Somerville Ski-running

We adore the straight, smooth descent of a long incline, with its wind-song in the ears and its snow spray in the face, but we have also an affection for turning hither and thither amongst trees and rocks. And even level running, which the beginner is apt to despise, is much more interesting and much more difficult than many people are inclined to believe.
Source: Gutenberg

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