Early skiers must have had a lot of guts

In doing a little research on the first classes in the Deseret Morning News' ski school, held some 59 years ago, it amazed me to see what lengths people went to.

Even more amazing was some of the equipment they brought to class just for a chance to learn to ski.

My first skis were carved from hickory, had metal edges and one of the first safety bindings, which was nothing more than a round spool for a toe piece and a niche in the toe of the boot that fit on the spool. Loosen it to where the boot released, however, and the boot would fall out of the binding. Crank it down half a turn and nothing, not even a hit from a heavy hammer, separated the boot and binding.

The boots were leather, they were hard to lace and the only thing separating your foot and the freezing cold was a sock and a thin piece of leather.

But at the time, they were state-of-the-art.

I remember the late Alf Engen, one of the founders of the ski school, telling me about young kids, no older than 5 or 6, showing up at the first class wearing their dad's galoshes for ski boots. A new pair of boots at the time cost $7. Skis were $15.

Even that, however, didn't always fit into the family budget, so they came with what was available or what they couldfind. To make the rubber boots fit, kids stuffed newspaper in the toes. And since the old bear-trap bindings wouldn't work, they strapped the rubber boots to the skis with leather straps.

It wasn't uncommon to see kids with skis three times taller than they were.

Imagine trying to ski on skis that long, rubber boots and on snow that can best be described as early crud.

Engen told me that about all the kids could do was go straight, and when they wanted to stop, fall. "But, they had a good time. And, they wanted to ski," he once told me.

I remember talking with Junior Bounous, director of skiing at Snowbird and an early pioneer in skiing, and asked about his early days.

He told me he grew up on a fruit farm in Provo. When he was 8, his father cut a barrel stave in half and strapped it to his feet so he could slide straight down the hills on the farm. When he was 11, his mother bought him a pair of extremely long skis and he slid faster and straighter.

"What turns I made were by accident. Simply to stop," he told me. Even his very first linked turns, made on a frosty hill on the farm in the spring, were accidents.

There's no question, today's skiers are spoiled — me included.

With today's shaped skis, a skier needs only to sneeze and they turn. Boots are warm and comfortable and easy to slip into, and bindings actually release.

The best part is the ski runs are packed smooth, and not occasionally, but at the end of each day.

Compare this to skiing on 7-foot skis with no metal edges, bindings that never release, ill-fitting ski boots and ski runs chopped up and filled with moguls, and you have to wonder just how skiing ever got to where it is now.

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E-mail: grass@desnews.com