Falls!—what a word. When I first thought of writing this book, it struck me that the best selling title would be "Ski-ing without Falls." But then I remembered that I could never look a beginner in the face again if, knowing that he had read my book, I saw him fall.

Besides which, a Ski runner who never falls, is probably but a poor exponent of the sport. When you begin to run comfortably and can do the turns at low speeds, falls show that you are still trying to learn more of the game. It is only by trying new things that a runner becomes really proficient and you are almost certain to fall constantly as you learn. There is art in falling on Skis as well as in running and turning. Fall loose. Let yourself go; never try to save yourself when once you find the fall is inevitable and get rid of your sticks. You will have the most amazing falls on Skis and nobody will listen to your descriptions of them because they are just as eager to describe their own. The surprising thing is how little people hurt themselves—knees and ankles go most. The strain on the knee and ankle is very great in some falls, but if you let yourself go and relax your muscles as you fall, you will find that even ankles and knees survive as a rule.

I once saw a really good runner turn three somersaults while nose-driving down a steep slope at high speed in soft snow. And all the damage done was two hat-pins snapped! Moral, don't wear hat-pins.

People are so tangled up sometimes that they do not know whether the Ski tip sticking out of the snow belongs to their right or left foot, and they have to dig with their sticks before they can extricate themselves. And sometimes the results of a fall are so intricate that the runner could never extricate himself, but needs the help of a friend, who will undo a binding so as to free him. The most curious fall I ever saw was when a man, running down a steep slope among trees, ran into a fir tree on the upper side where the snow was lying well up the trunk. He then fell head downwards into the hole below the tree where the snow had not penetrated and, his Skis being caught in the branches, there he hung. Had he been alone, I doubt whether he would ever have succeeded in getting free. As it was, we undid a binding quickly and no damage was done.

Not only is there art in falling but there is a technique of getting up. Before attempting to get up, arrange your Skis so that they are ready to stand on. Suppose they are crossed below you on a steep slope, lie on the slope, raise the Skis in the air, uncross them, set them parallel across the slope below you, facing the way you want to go, and get up. This fall is sometimes used as a turn and may be very useful, though not considered the best possible form if done intentionally.

Never attempt to get up on to Skis facing downhill. They will only go off with you the moment you begin to rise, and then down you flop again.

If you fall head downwards down a slope, you still have to get your Skis parallel across the slope below you before you can stand up, and the only thing to be done is to turn a somersault uncrossing your Skis in the air if they are crossed and getting them below you and then standing up. All of which is extremely easy, but it is very necessary to ensure that clothes are so made that the powder snow cannot slip into crevices while you are gambolling in this fashion. The first thing I do before getting up from a fall is to put up my hands and let the snow shake out of my glove gauntlets.

If you are so tangled up in a fall that it is almost impossible to get out, just undo a binding, slip off a Ski and get up easily with a free foot to stand on. And, if you see anyone else so tangled up that he does not begin to get up immediately, hurry to his assistance, because his ankle or knee may be in a very strained position and he may be thankful to you for undoing a binding and releasing him. It is in these falls that the leather heel bindings so often prove better than a rigid toe binding. The leather will ease a little or slip and allow the foot to turn a fraction of an inch so that the strain is not maintained long enough to cause real damage.

Falls are often half the fun of Ski-ing, and every runner who is trying something new will sometimes fall in the endeavour. So never lose hope, however much you fall. If you have been running rather well, and then get a day when you do nothing but only means that you are stale and that your muscles and nerves need a rest. This is where the all-round Winter sportsman gains. He can spend a day on the rink or curling or tobogganing and not feel that he has wasted time.

Never scoff at people because they fall. A first-class runner is supposed to be able to run at high speed, using turns without falling. So he will, probably, if he intends to, but no first-class runner worth his salt would always run like this. He will always be trying something more difficult, turns at higher speed or in difficult snow, and consequently he will often be seen to fall, and the beginner who scoffs is merely voted an ignoramus. Here again a runner will be judged by his tracks. Look carefully at the place where he ran and try to make out what turn he was trying and what the snow was like, and why he fell. You can learn a great deal from other people's tracks.

Falls in deep snow are always a little more risky than on hard snow, because there is greater strain on muscles and ligaments. On hard snow you get many a bump and scratch, but the results are less lasting than a torn ligament.

Having got up safely from your fall, look on the snow and see what you have dropped before starting off again. Even pockets with flaps may allow of leakage.

It is wise to tie your Rucksack firmly with a strap round your waist because, if it is loose, anything heavy inside may give you a nasty bump on the head as you fall.