Readers Respond

Glen Plake, the Pied Piper of Skiing

Edie Thys Morgan’s excellent profile of Glen Plake (“Evolution of Rebel,” May-June 2020) perfectly captured the person I call the “World’s Most Recognized Skier.” I’ve always been proud to call Glen and his wife, Kimberly, friends. I admire his enthusiasm for all things ski—especially the roots of freestyle—and the way he connects with all kinds, and all ages, of skiers.

Over the years, Glen has appeared many times at ski shows I’ve produced. He immediately attracts a crowd—just like he does when at the many small ski areas that he and Kimberly visit on their Down Home Ski Tours. He always makes time to talk, to pose for pictures, sign posters and, in general, make everyone feel like the most important person he’s met that day! Glen Plake is the best ambassador our sport has ever had, a true “natural resource” that the World of Snow is lucky to have. 

Bernie Weichsel
BEWI Productions
Waltham, Massachusetts

Photo above: Plake (center, blue parka) attracts fans at Mad River Glen in Vermont (above) and Black Mountain in Maine (center, plaid shirt) on his Down Home tours of small U.S. ski areas. Wallace Brodeur photo.

All Downhill For Pat Paré

I wanted to contribute a little more information about my mother, Pat Paré, who raced at the Seigniory Club with the Penguins (“Canada’s Forgotten Ski Center,” Skiing History, September-October 2020). As the story explained, in February 1939, she was 21 years old and known for her nerve. She raced out West, in Canada and the United States, at Mont Tremblant and everywhere else she could. But years later she told us, her six children, that at the time she hadn’t yet learned to ski. She just pointed herself straight down the hills, and either she crashed or got to the bottom first. That year she won the downhill at the Women’s Dominion Ski Championships at the Seigniory. She could not have won the slalom.

My grandfather lamented the cost of her medical bills to Bill Oliver, the head of Noorduyn Aviation, asking for his help because now she wanted to learn to fly. He was sure she was going to kill herself trying. Oliver called one of his pilots into his office, an airplane mechanic from Toronto who’d been flying since he was 14 years old, and told him the daughter of a rich friend was coming in to learn to fly. “Take her up, give her a good scare, and send her home,” he said. Mom never got her license, but she got her pilot, my father.

Joseph Graham
Ste-Lucie-des-Laurentides, Quebec

Big Air

In the Hans Truöl photo shown in the July-August issue (“Big Air”), the caption says it was taken in Lech, Australia. That would be Lech, Austria! The location is actually nearer to Zürs than to Lech.

Truöl took several different photos of a skier jumping over Porsche cars along that section of highway between Zürs and the Flexen Pass. The occasion was the 1956 Porsche Club Winter Ski-Treffen. For many years, starting in the mid-1950s, Porsche Club skiers would gather in Zürs with their cars for this annual event.
I’ve been back to the Arlberg a dozen times and skied the trails on both sides of the road. Never have I seen the snowbanks as high as they were in that photo. Another sign of global warming. 

Bill Hayman, PSIA Instructor
Jay Peak, Vermont

The Jet Stix Story

Several years ago, you published an article about ski inventions (“Bygone Gizmos,” September-October 2017). The story mentioned that Jack Nagel, who ran the ski school and shop at Washington’s Crystal Mountain, was the inventor of the Jet Stix. Although Jack was a valued member of the company, his responsibilities were primarily financial.

The Jet Stix story begins at Crystal, where I was a ski patroller and weekend racer. To improve my racing technique, I needed more leverage to recover from the occasional backseat turn. I decided to make some fiberglass extensions to attach to the back of my boot, and I could really feel the difference. After making an additional pair with a strap so anyone could try them, Jack asked if he could take a test run. At the end of the run he said, “Let’s go up to my office. We need to talk.” Bottom line: We changed boot design for the better!

Brent Gray
Elizabeth, Colorado

Positive ID: K2 Ad Was Shot in Seattle

In the January-February 2020 issue, the back cover was a reprint of a K2 ad from the 1970s, with a caption asking if readers knew where the photo had been shot. I’m quite sure that’s the White-Henry-Stuart Building at the southeast corner of 5th Avenue and Union Street in downtown Seattle. My office was a few blocks from that corner. At lunch time, I’d often walk past to visit the city’s leading sports store, Eddie Bauer—the only store that carried true seal-skin climbers.

John Hansen
Seattle, Washington

Photo: Alf Engen rides Sun Valley's Ruud Mountain chairlift, location of the jumping hill he designed with Sigmund Ruud, circa 1938. Photo by Charles Wanless, courtesy Alan Engen.

Alf Engen in Sun Valley (the saga continues...)

In a recent letter in Skiing History (May-June 2020), my colleague Kirby Gilbert raised several questions about Alf Engen’s role in Sun Valley’s early days. Kirby wonders whether Alf was in Sun Valley in 1936, since his presence was not mentioned in other accounts at the time.

In his 1985 oral history, Alf said he met Count Felix Schaffgotsch in Utah in early 1936, when the Count was searching for a place for Averell Harriman to build a destination ski resort. Alf showed the Count both Alta and Brighton, before the Count visited Ketchum in February 1936, and found the area that would become Sun Valley. According to Alf, “When I found out that he had picked this place [Ketchum], the Forest Service sent me up here just to see what he had actually picked out…There was lots of snow that year, and it was beautiful. And at the end of the road...of the railroad...there was only one building, there was Pete Lane’s store…I just came to see what he had picked out.”

From 1935 to 1942, Alf worked for the Forest Service as a technical advisor, assisting with planning and developing winter sports areas in four western states. Alf’s son Alan provided me with a list of 31 ski areas in which Alf played a role in planning or developing, which included Sun Valley’s Bald Mountain.

In January 1939, Sun Valley general manager Pat Rogers told Harriman that the Forest Service released Engen to work at Sun Valley. Count Schaffgotsch, Alf Engen, Dick Durrance and Friedl Pfeifer were on Baldy marking trees to be removed for a new downhill course designed by Durrance, the work would be rushed through, and the course would be ready for the 1939 Harriman Cup. Engen also supervised Civilian Conservation Corps workers stationed at a camp in the Warm Springs area, to clear new runs on Baldy to open the mountain for general skiing in winter 1940, after chairlifts were installed. In his oral history, CCC worker Fred Joswig described working with Alf on Baldy. Joswig said Pfeifer, who had a “good eye for a downhill course,” marked trees for removal, and Engen contributed “more than any one person to Bald Mountain’s development than anyone I know.”

As a part-time resident of Sun Valley, I appreciate interest in the history of our country’s first destination ski resort that Durrance said was “the most important influence in the development of American skiing ... Its concentrated and highly successful glamorization of the sport got people to want to ski in the first place.”

John W. Lundin
Seattle, Washington

John Lundin is the author of Early Skiing on Snoqualmie Pass (2018 ISHA Skade Award winner); Sun Valley, Ketchum and the Wood River Valley (Arcadia Press, June 2020); Skiing Sun Valley, a History from Union Pacific to the Holdings (History Press, publication date November 9, 2020); and Ski Jumping in Washington —A Nordic Tradition (History Press, publication date January 2021). John and Kirby Gilbert are both founding members of the Washington State Ski and Snowboard Museum (www.wsssm.org).

Engen’s Son Remembers

I received the latest Skiing History and was interested in the short piece by Kirby Gilbert that talked about my father in Sun Valley during the mid 1930s. I can’t comment much about my father’s early years at Sun Valley working for the Forest Service during summer months. I know he did some early trail cutting. He told me about encountering a wolverine face to face while cutting trails on Warm Springs. Dad backed away without incident, but it was a lasting memory.

I know my father played an important role in the design and construction of the Ruud Mountain ski-jumping hill near the old Proctor Lift. That would have been in 1936–1937 and he did have a good association with Averell Harriman during those years. I used my father’s blueprint design of the Ruud Mountain ski jump as a guide for the one I designed on a hill for Bob Barrett, original owner of the Solitude ski area, in the late 1950s. It was used for intercollegiate competitions for several years in the early 1960s, but was torn down and replaced with a regular run in later years.

Alan K. Engen
Salt Lake City, Utah

Where Grooming and Geometry Intersect

In his “Paradise Lost” article (Skiing History, May-June 2020), Jackson Hogen eloquently explained how carving represents the Nirvana of alpine skiing. I would add that carving stands at the confluence of two evolutions: ski geometry and slope grooming. 

Ski designers began experimenting with new sidecuts back in the 1960s. For instance, Dynamic designers moved the waist back about 18cm to take advantage of new racing techniques. Two decades later, alpine races were still taking place on decently prepared but significantly wavy and irregular terrain, making carving choppy and imperfect. As trail grading and grooming improved, resorts created flawless and wide snow ribbons. When shaped skis came of age, they showed their magic power on these smooth new ski runs. 

Do all skiers need to carve? I’m not convinced. Many are content with letting their boards skid into each turn. In fact, accomplished carvers account for a small portion of the skiing public. Besides, significant momentum is required to trigger carving. Its maximum efficiency promotes higher speed, but doesn’t allow for slow motion. And it often creates stress on the joints that can prove tiring after a full day on the snow. 

If carving is one useful skiing skill, skidded turns are essential in countless circumstances like moguls, crud, steep spots, blue ice, deep snow, trees and out-of-bounds skiing. A skier who doesn’t master skidding will be ill at ease on surfaces that aren’t perfectly groomed. Skidding is in fact a progressive form of edge control while carving is binary; you either carve or you don’t. As a result, I use a variety of skills when I ski, depending on the terrain, the snow and the day: carving, skidding and stem-christies (yes, these too!).

Finally, about the danger of rocker and fat skis: Those are part of the ebb and flow of “cool trends” that we’ve seen come and go in skiing. As the industry pushes them, they grow, stay for a while and falter. Rocker skis are made for the elusive deep snow while fat skis are sluggish and heavy to carry, so when their heydays are gone, they might return to niche status.

J.F. Lanvers
Park City, Utah

Jean-Francois Lanvers, who capped his ski-teaching career with a stint on the French Demo Team, came to North America as a marketing executive, first with Look and then with Lange.

Notes on the New Northlands

I want to thank Jackson Hogen for his article in the May-June issue, which brings to light the concept that we built Northland Skis around. Wider rockered skis degrade the true ski turn.

We pride ourselves in making one of the finest all-mountain carving skis on the market. We went against the trend to go wider and rockered by creating dimensions and ski construction not seen in other skis in the industry. To do this, we went back to the original Northland design. The vintage skis were made from hickory that provided strength, snap and durability. With the new Northlands, we make the core from hickory and white ash, strong hardwoods with excellent performance characteristics. To that we add a full-length layer of Kevlar to quiet and dampen the ski bottom and add strength.    
I applaud Hogen for stepping out and speaking his mind about products that the industry has dropped on the skiing public that diminish the ski experience. 

Peter Daley
Steamboat Springs, Colorado

Two Bulls and a Blunder

The lead poster in Everett Potter’s “Off the Wall” article (Skiing History, March-April 2020) was a 1932 classic by Johan Bull, best known as a popular artist in The New Yorker. He was the father of ski-country architect and ski-resort planner Henrik Bull (1929–2013), long a stalwart member of ISHA. From time to time, Henrik wrote for SKI magazine and then for Skiing Heritage, and often helped us out with lengthy translations from old Norwegian books and newspapers.

From the same issue, I need to correct my error in the article “Marie Marvingt, Superhero.” I identified Harald Durban-Hansen, the Norwegian ski coach, as a Swede. Thanks to Einar Sunde for pointing out this blunder.

Seth Masia, ISHA President
Paonia, Colorado

Meeting the Masters

Two articles in the March-April 2020 issue brought back memories of meeting two of the “greats” in skiing history.

The story about “Alf Engen’s Idaho Roots” recalled a trip to Woodstock, Vermont, in the late 1940s. We skied at Suicide Six and I took my first ski lesson. My instructor, as I recall, was Walter Prager, who at the time was coaching the Dartmouth ski team. Only later did I realize the extent of Prager’s greatness—his Hall of Fame status and achievements as a competitor and mentor to the ski world.

The article on Skiing History Day at Mad River Glen brought back another memorable experience. In the mid 1950s, a friend and I skied there for the day. Late afternoon, we met another friend for a drink at his family’s cabin, tucked in the woods across the road from the base lodge. His father prepared a special recipe for Glühwein in a saucepan on a wood-burning stove. The father was Mad River Glen founder and Vermont ski pioneer Roland Palmedo (see “The Amazing, Intriguing Roland Palmedo” by Mort Lund in the September 2009 issue of Skiing Heritage). Sadly, at the time I didn’t appreciate how special it was to be sharing toasts and conversation with a man who contributed so much to the sport I love, nor can I recall the mulled-wine recipe!

Peter Barrett
Bellevue, Washington

Before There Was Swix

Under present circumstances (COVID-19), I have plenty of time to read every article and word in Skiing History, my favorite publication. On Greg Ditrinco’s well-detailed piece about fluorinated waxes and the FIS (March-April 2020), I’m compelled to mention that a ski-wax company was in operation before Toko and Swix—the French company known as VOLA.  Indeed, it’s 85 years old!

VOLA was incorporated in 1935 at Colmar, and moved to Passy in the heart of the French Alps soon after. Reliable Racing Supply has been (and is currently) the U.S. importer/distributor for VOLA. Included in our first direct-mail catalog in 1969 was a VOLA product called “Coloneige.” This product was used to identify the placement of slalom poles into the piste (necessary to reset bamboo poles that were often knocked out by the racers). Soon after, we distributed “Durcineige,” an early use of a chemical to harden the snow. 

Currently, Reliable Racing offers several VOLA products direct to the consumer, not limited to ski wax, but including FIS-homologated helmets, goggles, accessories and ski-tuning products.  In 2019 they introduced E-wax, a 100 percent biodegradable product, made from plant and animal sources. For the 2020-2021 season they have introduced MyEcoWax, a non-fluorinated race wax with excellent gliding properties, in which more than 50 percent is made from plant and animal sources.

VOLA is a major manufacturer with 34 international distributors, and is a big player on the European competition scene. The current CEO, JF Ferreira, attended the University of Colorado at Boulder, and was an NCAA All-American in skiing. 

John Jacobs
Reliable Racing Supply
Queensbury, New York

1898: First Tracks in Zermatt

The recent article on Zermatt (Skiing History, January-February 2020) left the impression that skiing began there in the 1928–1929 season. But in the Kleines Zermatter Brevier, we read “it was a gloomy and snow-filled day on 29 December 1898 when the first ski tracks were seen in Zermatt.” These were the tracks of Dr. Hermann Seiler and Viktor Beauclair.

In 1905, “certain amateurs simply solved the question of winter quarters by breaking into inns, calling them huts to reassure their conscience,” according to an account in La Montagne (March 20, 1905). One “modest little inn” was open in 1908, the year the Ski Club Cervin (the French name for the Matterhorn) was founded. Arnold Lunn—the panjandrum of British skiing—weighed in with the judgment in 1913 that it “by no means follows that a good summer centre will make a good winter centre. Zermatt is a case in point.” After the war, the Cervin Club built a jump on the Steinmatte, about a 10-minute walk from the village.

When the “season” began in 1928–1929, General Wroughton, one of the Ski Club of Great Britain’s stalwarts, commented that “Zermatt’s slopes are too steep and rocky to be inviting,” while others judged them “too precipitous for good ski-ing.” “Incidentally,” wondered an old mountaineer almost a decade later, in 1937, “would the place be much good for ski-ing anyway?”

E. John B. Allen
Rumney, New Hampshire

Alf Engen in Sun Valley (Part 2)

I enjoyed the March-April “Short Turns” highlighting Alf Engen’s role in early Sun Valley. The article mentions Alf recalling first visiting Sun Valley in winter 1936, which is interesting because that visit is not mentioned in other accounts. Engen was so well known at that time, one would think the media or correspondence of that winter would have noted it. Rather, the founding skiers who greatly helped to determine the layout of the ski runs and lifts on the hills above Ketchum were Charley Proctor, Count Felix Schaffgotsch, Count Erwein Wilczek, Richard Scott, John E.P. Morgan, and some local boys who could ski.

While Alf did direct CCC crews to cut the first runs on Baldy, as the late Mort Lund and others have documented, the trails were laid out primarily by Friedl Pfeifer and Dick Durrance with Alf’s help. It’s also interesting that Dartmouth Outing Club (DOC) members had a role in helping to get Baldy ready. Alf’s CCC crews could not overnight on the mountain, so they could only clear Baldy’s lower slopes in a day’s work. For the upper slopes, Harriman had Dick Durrance hire DOC members to do the clearing and stay in eight-man camps in August 1939. I hope we all get to enjoy the fruits of Alf’s labor when we meet in Sun Valley for Skiing History Week in December!

Kirby Gilbert
Bellevue, Washington

Javelin Turn: Still Sharp

At Christin Cooper’s suggestion, I’d like to provide a picture of a modern use of the Javelin Turn, which I wrote about in the January-February 2020 issue of Skiing History (Timeless Tips). In the article, I described how this tip-crossing tip was promoted by Vermont instructor Art Furrer in 1967, and has been in constant use ever since.

In recent exchanges on the Facebook group “Technical Analysis of Alpine Skiing,” a forum where ski instructors and coaches exchange ideas about their work, Javelin Turns have been suggested as a good approach to addressing specific issues in seven different discussion threads just in the last few months. Clearly, it’s alive and well.

Ron LeMaster
Boulder, Colorado

The First U.S. Ski Journalists

A recent article in Skiing History focused on the big guns of ski reporting during the 1950s to 1980s print journalism heyday (“When Print Was King,” January-February 2020).

The profession of “ski journalist” was invented in the 1930s, when U.S. newspapers—especially in Boston and New York—became important sources of ski news. During that decade, ski columnists such as Frank Elkins of the New York Times and Henry Moore of the Boston Herald competed with “Old Man Winter”—Benjamin Bowker—of the rival Boston Evening Transcript.

These pioneers taught novices about the up-and-coming new sport, offering advice on clothing, equipment, technique, snow conditions and weekend snow-train destinations. Race results were a staple and fashion notes added a social touch.

To take one example, Henry Moore’s column of December 2, 1938 covers the Dartmouth College ski team, where the Sunday snow train is going, that ski tows were “rigging up for the weekend crowd,” and that Caroline French looked very cute in her new ski outfit along with “ace racer” Mary McKean. Sometimes artwork would add a visual touch; illustrator Max Barsis was popular.

A few early women columnists made a mark, too: Gwendoline Keen of the Transcript wrote special features, including one about pine-needle skiing. The much-traveled Christine Reid was informative and popular.

For the ski crowd in the Northeastern United States in the decade before World War II, the Friday-night newspapers provided the right combination of enthusiasm, interest, information and pizzazz that heralded a Saturday and Sunday on skis.

John Allen
Rumney, New Hampshire

Who was in the K2 ad?

I loved seeing the K2 “Welfare of the People” ad on the back cover of the January-February issue. In the caption, Seth Masia offered “bonus points” to anyone who could name the city. I can!

My uncle, Russ Butterfield, worked for K2 at the time and his twin daughters are deep in the frame on the right. Sandra is holding the books and purse while Lorna is pushing the stroller. Derek Weigle, the baby in the stroller, recently turned 50.

According to Lorna, the photo shoot was held early in the morning on the main street of Vashon, Washington. The signage was composited (or as we say now, “Photo-shopped in”) later by the advertising agency. Most of the people in the ad were K2 employees, plus their family, friends and significant others. Heckler and Bowker’s ads were creative and cutting edge in the 1970s ski industry. 

David Butterfield
Sun Valley, Idaho

“Think ecology, Mrs. Frobish.”

SKI November 1973

Correcting the Record

Due to an editing error, a caption on page 23 of the January-February 2020 issue was incorrect. In the article “When Print Was King” by ISHA director Jeff Blumenfeld, chronicling some of the sport’s most influential journalists, British writer Arnie Wilson was the ski correspondent for the Financial Times, not the London Times. Sorry, Arnie! —Kathleen James, Editor

The cover of the November-December 2019 issue of Skiing History—and the accompanying painting of a ski jumper soaring over Salisbury, Connecticut—reminds me of home!

Growing up in northwestern Connecticut, my hero was Roy Sherwood, who competed in the 1956 Cortina Olympics. Roy was the constable on our lake, trying to keep a bunch of delinquents out of trouble. He was a straight shooter and a fair man, and we dedicated the lyrics “Oh Roy, oh Roy, is you the law?” to him. (Long Tall Texan by The Kingsmen, 1963).

In the spring of 1963, I stayed in Aspen at the home of Dave and Sherry Farney, along with cinematographer Dick Barrymore. We were all bagging it on the Farneys’ floor. Future Olympian Cindy Farney was just a toddler. At the time, Aspen was a small town with dirt streets and a few chairlifts. We also skied Vail, then in its first season, and the die was cast: I would get back to Colorado at my earliest excuse (CU, Class of 1969).

As a teen, I revered Buddy Werner, Billy Kidd, Jimmie Heuga and Bob Beattie—names and faces I saw featured in your fall fundraising mailing. As an adult, I was excited to attend a party for business associate and Hall of Famer Chuck Ferries at the home of Barb and Scott Henderson in Nederland, Colorado. Bob, Billy and Jimmie were there.

Having skied since age four, and having had small interactions with some of these greats, Skiing History is my favorite read, month after month.

Jonathan Williams
Denver, Colorado

Further on Redford’s Roffe

After reading “The Tale of Redford’s Roffe” in the November-December issue, I thought I’d add a personal touch to Wini Jones’ letter about Roffe’s clothing efforts for the U.S. Ski Team and Redford.

I commuted to work in Seattle with Wini via the Banbridge Island ferry from the late 1970s to the mid-1990s. She was heading into the city to design and manage at Roffe Ski Company, and me to lawyer elsewhere. Back then, I was a 6-foot-tall, 225-pound ex-football player who could not find a ski pant to fit what my future ski tailor later referred to as my “trees.”

Wini took pity in 1985. She invited me to the red-brick Roffe building in downtown Seattle—now pretty much Amazon central. It was snowing hard. Seattle was paralyzed. I walked up a few flights of stairs with Wini to the third floor, an open warehouse-type space with wooden beams. She introduced me to “Sam.” He was mid-70s, me maybe 30.

Sam was handling the tape measure. Clearly, he was a tailor. He and Wini decided on a starting size from which to construct pants for me, the mis-designed client. The result was that Sam Roffe (owner of the company) and Wini (a SKI Magazine “Woman of the Year”) designed, sewed and presented to me a pair of custom-fit, navy blue, over-the boot stretch Gore-Tex ski pants. I wore them well into my three decades at Sun Valley. Today I tuned Wini’s Völkls for Christmas at Whistler. Great magazine!

Tom Hayward
Bainbridge Island, Washington

US 1957 Biathlon Ski Team, from left to right (back row): Fred Beck, Quintin Golder, Selwyn Presnal and Stan Walker; (front row) Gunnar Jansen, Gerald Jensen and Fritz Holt.

Early Biathlon Days Great article on biathlon skiing in the December 2010 issue of Skiing Heritage ("Biathlon Boom"). Here is some additional information on the early days of the U.S,. team.

Following WWII and the deactivation of the 10th Mountain Division, what remained of Camp Hale in Colorado was occupied by a small Army group called the Mountain and Cold Weather Training Command, starting in1952. Although their task was to teach skiing, rock climbing, and outdoor survival to various military units, they also ski raced and began biathlon training. Their first competition was at Camp Hale in 1957, followed by a competition in Switzerland. They competed in the first world championship in 1958 at Saalfelden, Austria. Being a military team, they wore camouflage white clothes with civilian knicker socks, boots and skis, with an M-1 rifle strapped to an Army rucksack. The athletes were from all across the country.

Peter Birkeland (MCWTC alum)
Boulder, Colorado

Hearfelt thanks to Heggtveit I thoroughly enjoyed the article on Anne Heggtveit in the December 2010 issue (“Where Are They Now?”). I want to expand on one small part of the article, so—as Paul Harvey used to say—you’ll have “the rest of the story.”
The article made passing reference to her time at Jay Peak. It noted, “On weekends she’d ski at Vermont’s Jay Peak, sometimes with Lucile Wheeler.” Well, for me, as a young skier, her time meant much more than that. Mrs. Hamilton, as we called her, was one of the coaches for the Jay Peak Ski Club in the late 1970s and early 1980s. Our team was comprised mostly of Canadian kids and, like many Vermont ski clubs, a number of went on to earn ski success at places like Burke Mountain Academy. Some even won NCAA titles or raced for the U.S. and Canadian national teams. I was not one of those racers.
I was a kid with very little natural athletic ability. By my second year on the club I felt very discouraged, as I always finished near last place. One day I was having extra trouble because I had just gotten my first new pair of ski boots. Hamilton noticed that I was struggling and that my boots were not allowing me to flex properly. We left the team behind and skied to the base lodge, where she got a stack of napkins. I remember being confused...I hadn’t spilled my hot chocolate, but she was a coach and I didn’t say a word. She put the napkins behind my calf, between the boot shell and the liner. We then went back up the mountain. “Try it now,” she said. I raced better than I had all day...all year...or maybe ever. When practice was over, she told my parents what to tell the ski shop in order to make things right.
That day didn’t turn me into a world-class racer, but it did help to make me a lifelong skier. Instead of quitting, I ended up spending the rest of my elementary and high school years racing for either Jay Peak or our regional high school. In one of my last high school races, I came within within 13/100ths of actually winning! I became a Jay Peak ski instructor and now look forward to each ski season to spend magical time with my 9-year-old daughter and 6-year-old son. Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton! I’ll never forget what you did for me.

John Ferrara
Hinesburg, Vermont

One Javelin, Two Bindings I enjoyed the September issue of Skiing Heritage and the article on Hart Skis by Seth Masia (“A Family Business Rebounds”). From my photo collection: the Hart Javelin AGS 145, 215 centimeters long, with two Marker bindings on the same ski. Not easy to ski if you are not Art Furrer.

Luzi Hitz
Switzerland

Correction I regret several errors in my December 2010 article about Sun Valley, Stars in the Archives. —John Fry

• Nelson Bennett was Sun Valley’s second ski patrol director, not the original one.
• The long sheaves or shafts of his innovative rescue sled were parallel to one another, not in a V.
• Friedl Pfeifer’s bride Hoyt was not Mormon.
• The Shah of Iran may not have skied down Baldy at dusk from a party at the Round House. Dorice Taylor’s memoir of Sun Valley said that the Iranian leader did, but Bennett, who was there, says he didn’t.

After reading “The Making of DownhillRacer” in the September-October 2019 issue and seeing the photo of Robert Redford in a Roffe shell, I thought I’d add a little behind-the-scenes information. It was an unlined shell with the front made of stiff coated 70-denier woven nylon. The shell was created for the U.S. Ski Team, and in 1968, Olympic alpine medalists Billy Kidd and Jimmie Heuga wore the shell on the cover of Sports Illustrated (February 5 edition). It had to fit close to the body but still stretch across the shoulders. This was before the invention of multi-directional woven stretch fabrics, so the back was made of heavy woven wool/Lycra one-way stretch fabric, with the stretch going horizontally across the shoulders. Redford can ski very well, and Roffe supplied him with skiwear for many years. In this picture of him plowing through powder, he’s wearing a two-piece suit made of fourway stretch woven nylon/Lycra fabric, insulated with a new product that I developed with 3M, a stretch insulation. Both the suit fabric and the shell back were   --Wini Jones