Baffled by Bumps

Has ski history kept you from mastering moguls?

[Re-posted from October '05]
You’re a fit expert skier, but you’re yet to master the bumps. Over and over, you’ve watched those mogul skiers who glide so fluidly, so effortlessly through the bumps. But when you jump into the zipper line, it spits you out after just a few turns. So, what is it about mogul skiing? It can’t be all that difficult, can it?

Actually, mogul skiing is not so much difficult as it different. That is, different from groomed-trail skiing. The bumps require a special set of techniques that are not widely known outside of competitive mogul-skiing circles. And why are mogul techniques not widely known among members of the skiing mainstream? History, my friend. Ski history.

With your mogul floundering, you’re paying for, among other things, a mistake made more than 30 years ago by the now revered American racing coach and ski-instruction author Warren Witherell. In 1972, Witherell’s book, How the Racers Ski, gave the downhill skiing masses their first comprehensive, understandable explanation of modern racing technique: in particular, the carved turn. The book influenced skiers everywhere. Its message permeated ski coaching and instruction, and helped to improve the skills of countless racers, instructors and recreational skiers. But the book claimed to be more than it was. It claimed to offer no less than “the fundamentals common to all great skiers.” In fact, it offered only the fundamentals common to all great groomed-trail skiers.

Venture away from the smooth, groomed snow, to the bumpy side of the mountain, and the value of racing technique suddenly disappears. Real carving isn’t even physically possible in a tight mogul fall line. The purely carved turn isn’t fast enough for the bumps. It’s also too wide for the bumps, and it requires more ski-to-snow contact than the bumps afford. Also, the racer’s crouched posture and relatively wide stance don’t allow for the rhythmic and coordinated absorption and extension movements necessary in the bumps. In other words, in the moguls, racing technique will get you into trouble. Yes, I know, a few of the more athletic racers out there can ski soft, forgiving moguls with a bit of speed. But have you seen many racers who can ski big, irregular, icy bumps with quickness, smoothness and efficiency, while staying in the fall line all the way down a steep hill? A good mogul skier can do it all day long.

When Witherell described alpine-racing techniques as “the fundamentals common to all great skiers,” nearly everyone believed him. Race coaches believed him. The instructing establishment believed him. Recreational experts believed him. And nearly everyone still believes him to this day. Most skiers, including many instructors, believe that carving and all of the techniques that surround carving are the only legitimate downhill skiing techniques there are. Listen to the advice and instruction that’s commonly passed around by the expert masses these days and you’d think that mogul techniques don’t even exist! Instructors and other groomed-trail experts are constantly suggesting that the narrow, legs-together stance is outdated and incorrect, and that a carved turn is, in all circumstances, superior to a more heavily steered turn.

Although most ski schools do offer mogul skiing lessons, you’d be hard pressed to find, at a traditional ski school, an instructor who knows why the narrow, legs-together stance is technically advantageous in the bumps, or why heavy steering can actually be an efficient means of turning in the bumps. You’d be hard pressed to find an instructor who can explain the crucial importance of absorption and extension in the bumps, or who can ski the zipper line with the speed, smoothness, efficiency and control of a real bump skier. Just as difficult would be finding an instructor who doesn’t traffic in one or more of the common mogul-skiing myths (e.g. fall-line bump skiing is an "extreme" sport meant for daredevils only; mogul skiers aren’t good technical skiers; of the several different ways there are to ski the bumps, none is any better than any other; et cetera).

Today’s mogul myths are no different from other myths that have cropped up throughout ski history only to be eventually disproved and disregarded. The Norwegians used to say that skiing steep, alpine slopes was impossible. After alpine techniques were successfully developed, the common myth said that alpine skiing wasn’t safe enough for the recreating masses. (Daredevils only, they said. Sound familiar?) Hannes Schneider then disabused his contemporaries of this ski myth by developing a safe way to teach nearly anyone to ski downhill. Likewise, today’s mogul myths will pass and the expert-skiing masses will learn to ski bumps, once people gain access to real mogul technique.

At heart, perhaps, we North Americans are still just sappy colonials, endlessly impressed by things European. Alpine racing is, after all, alpine; it comes from the Alps, from Europe, and is done best by Europeans. Yes, yes, I know; every 20 or so years, a Mahre or Street or Miller comes along to produce a blip on the world’s alpine-racing radar. But, let’s face it; alpine racing has been pretty much dominated by Europeans, and we colonials have always been endlessly impressed. “Oh, my!” our skiing mainstream said to itself back in 1972, “Mr. Witherell says the alpine racers all carve their turns. We must all do as the great alpine racers do! You’re no good if you don’t carve like the great alpinists!” And our skiing mainstream has since all but ignored the downhill-skiing techniques that we colonials have pioneered: mogul techniques.

Over the last 20 or so years, America’s kneeling at the racing-technique altar has become an exceptional irony. While the U.S. has produced just a few great alpine racers over the years, we’ve produced many great mogul skiers and we pretty much dominate World Cup mogul skiing today. To put it another way: mogul skiing is the sort of downhill skiing that American competitors do best and that American competitors often do better than anyone else in the world.

On the World Cup bump circuit, it’s not uncommon for the top ten finishers of a contest to include five or more Americans. America has so many good mogul skiers that it’s also possible for an almost completely different set of five American mogul skiers to finish in the top ten a few weeks later. America has enough great mogul skiers to field two or three viable World Cup teams. The American mogul competitor’s biggest challenge often isn’t competing against skiers from other nations, but, rather, earning a spot on the U.S. team. Yet, the average American skier is unaware of America’s mogul skiing prowess, and unaware of authentic mogul technique.

Moguls crop up everywhere we ski, and everyone wants to know what to do with them. (A recent SKI Magazine poll says 34% of skiers want to improve their bump technique more than any other aspect of their skiing.) But ski history has led our instructors and recreating masses to a narrow definition of skiing excellence, a definition built almost solely on racing technique. And so the average expert stumbles through the bumps, trying to apply racing technique where mogul technique is needed. Perhaps, however, the future will allow our instructors and skiing masses to turn away, for a moment, from How the Racers Ski, and to learn something about how the mogul skiers ski. It would only make for better, more versatile skiers. And then, maybe, your local ski school could teach you to ski that zipper line like the bumpers ski it.

[Buy Dan's book, Everything the Instructors Never Told You about Mogul Skiing, at www.LearnMoguls.com, www.amazon.com, www.bn.com, or ask for it at your local bookstore.]