What was the first ski book you read? As I dig through my collection, I can find “The Skier’s Bible” by Mort Lund (1972); “The Ski Book,” a collection of ski stories edited by Lund, Bob Gillen and Michael Bartlett; “Ski Fast” by Lisa Fienberg-Densmore and Dan Egan’s “All Terrain Skiing.”
There are more but I don’t have a copy of the first one I remember, a book on technique by the Canadian ski great Ernie McCullough. I found this one in the book case at home, one of many books my father made sure we had on every conceivable subject, especially sports.
That book was written in the 1940s or early 50s, but it was far from being the first ski book in the U.S. That honor goes to “The Winter Sport of Skeeing,” written by Theo A. Johnsen of Portland in 1905. Under the title on the cover, the listing reads, “Theo A. Johnsen Co., Mfrs. Of Tajco Sporting Goods, Portland, Me. USA.”
The book has been reprinted by the International Skiing History Association and is available through the Ski Museum of Maine. Our own Glenn Parkinson, whose book “First Tracks” documented 125 years of skiing in Maine, wrote a biography at the end of the reprint of Johnsen’s book.
The first 38 pages give a detailed explanation of the sport and its equipment. This introduction to the sport of “skeeing” is followed by a 16-page catalog with illustrations of Johnsen’s Tajco skees, bindings and poles. Snowshoes and kick sleds are also included. Johnsen called his skiers, “Skidors.”
In his explanation of equipment, Johnsen relates how the skee dated back more than 1,600 years, but those early versions were heavy and clumsy compared to his company’s “modern skees.” These he described as “things of beauty,” something hard to imagine for those of us who started on wood skis. The catalog listed sizes for youth (5 feet, 6 feet), lady’s (7 feet) men’s (8 feet) and long distance (10 feet) priced from $2.25 to $3.50, with special models ranging from $5 to $11. Bindings ranged in price from $1 to $4, some with a single toe strap, others with additional heel straps.
The “How to Skee” explains the technique, complete with illustrations, and covers everything from cross country to downhill running. Jumping is also illustrated along with how to climb the hill. Today we see wind surfers, but Johnsen had a drawing of a “Skidor” with a Skee Sail which he called very close to actually flying.
Johnsen was before his time by a couple of decades. He closed his business and moved to Massachusetts, where he worked as a wood carver until his death in 1911.
Winter carnivals were held in Portland during the 1920s, and in 1935 there were snow trains to Fryeburg filled with winter sports enthusiasts. The first recorded rope tow was installed in Woodstock, Vt.
Imagine Theo Johnsen seeing, as I did growing up in South Paris, a factory turning out skis, sleds and toboggans. The majority of skis used by the 10th Mountain Division in World War II came out of that factory.
I received a copy of the book through my involvement with the Ski Museum of Maine. It’s one more fascinating piece of the history of the sport in our state. How far we have come in 100 years will be demonstrated next week when I return from testing next year’s skis. Theo Johnsen would have a hard time picturing adults skiing on skis shorter than what he called junior models.
He certainly could not have envisioned the night skiing at Shawnee Peak and the recognition the area received. In the February issue of Snowboarder Magazine, Shawnee was named to the top-10 list of best places in North America to ride at night. Johnsen would surely wonder at the half pipes and terrain parks along with snowmaking and everything else our sport entails.
And how about world champions from Maine? Next Wednesday at Sugarloaf, recently crowned SBX champion Seth Wescott will be on hand for the dedication of a new superpipe.
Put this past week down as the best of the season. Not only was the skiing superb, but with sunshine and near perfect temperatures we skied in comfort all day.
While we were skiing in Vermont, the usual gathering took place in Pennsylvania to watch Phil the groundhog make his annual appearance. According to the reports he saw his shadow and headed back down his hole. Of course, I suspect any animal crawling out of a hole to be confronted by hundreds of people would head back down the hole, shadow or no shadow.
Here in Maine we call those rodents woodchucks and know that no winter has ever ended Feb. 2. Not only will we have at least six more weeks of winter, but we have at least 10 more weeks of skiing. So ignore that rodent in Pennsylvania, give your skis that midseason tune and hit the slopes.
Dave Irons is a freelance writer who lives in Westbrook.
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