Nigel Vardy blogs on… Telemarking!?

January 26 2010 Nigel Vardy blogs on... Telemarking!?

When someone says “I’m going Telemarking”, most people scratch their heads and look confused. When you explain that it a form of skiing, they look even more lost. When you tell them that you ski at almost downhill speeds, but with your heels free, they call you strange.

When you tell them that you do this without any toes they call you mad! Well, perhaps I am, but Telemark skiing has become my norm, no matter how difficult it is and how much it hurts.

I abandoned Alpine skiing years ago, after losing my toes through frostbite. I wanted a new challenge and the thought of balancing at 40mph, facing downhill on a snow slope in almost a kneeling position looked good. Little did I realise the pain I was to go through to reach anything like a decent standard. After initial lessons in Scotland, followed by expeditions to Baffin Island and Greenland I was hooked. Ski trips with friends seemed dull though as they plodded through the alpine and snowboarding world as I knelt downwards. I looked different, drew comment and fell often. I always struggled to find good instruction, the best being in the Italian Dolomites, but I wanted more. I was getting older, aching more and my injuries were grumbling.

As with the best experiences the world can offer, my salvation came by complete chance. It’s a bit long winded, but here we go…

Met a girl from the RAF on a ski lift. She asked me for a light, I offered her a tot of whisky. She noticed my injuries and that I telemarked. Before I knew it, I had been invited to tea with a Major, was skiing with GB Telemark and Army team members and astounding them. “You cant Telemark without toes!” I was told. Good job I didn’t listen. Now, don’t think I’m great at it, but I manage, feel what I can through what’s left of my feet and guess the rest. After a couple of days I had been invited to speak at Sandhurst and ski with the team the following year in Austria…

So there I was in the mountains. The UK was buried under piles of snow and I was on the piste. After a weeks tuition, laughter and of course, drinking, we were racing. I’ve never been particularly competitive, but was willing to try and see what happened. Being surrounded by revved up squaddies brought a certain atmosphere to the occasion and I skied as fast and gracefully as I could. I felt truly exhilarated as I sped through the gates and over the jump, before crossing the finish line in around a minute. One by one other telemarkers descended as screams echoed through the mountains. The forces really egg people on! It seem that I did well (although I didn’t see the results), but I was left in the development races as it was thought that the longer and more difficult races would be too much for me. I felt a little aggrieved, but found it to be the right decision.

Two days later I was racing again, taking two silvers for the Giant Slalom and Sprint Classic – wait a minute, you’re going to ask me what a sprint classic is aren’t you? Imagine a Giant Slalom with a 360 turn, a skate and a jump. Jumping is simple, landing is something else, particularly when most of your balance has gone and you have nothing much up front in your boots. After a couple of goes I could feel my feet aching and ended up hobbling around for the next couple of weeks.

So what did I get out of all this? Some new friendships, silver medals, a tan and a wonderful feeling of achievement. To have skied and competed against able bodied people and won, proves that injuries might make life harder, but nothing can stop you if you choose to take up the gauntlet and accept the challenge…