And other musings on free-heel philosophy
The firm, cold surface made the snow climb exhilarating. Even as the last in an ad hoc group of four, I often came upon long stretches with little evidence that anyone was ahead of me, the frozen plane clinging to the mountain inside the narrow couloir. Kicking steps into the early-June hard pack was indeed far from easy. At times I even struggled to plunge the point of my ice ax into the oddly smooth slope, often at most eight feet wide.
Several times I paused and peered over my right shoulder, letting the precariousness of my perch speak to me, feeling the yawning gravity on my back.
I’d be able to arrest if I fell, I would say to myself.
As the points of my crampons struggled to find purchase, I responded to my own fallacy.
I’m not so sure about that.
Continuing up the corridor - and regaining some semblance of composure - I ascended ever more. The focus on the task was consuming, raising my awareness to a mental singularity.
Soon we gained the ridge, taking in the still snowbound Front Range from a craggy, ramparted col. And for a moment I forgot about the unyielding snow surface that we would soon become reacquainted with on our descent.
But the time quickly came. Crampons came off while skis came on. Edging into the couloir proper, my skis chattered with apprehension. It then dawned on us that the slope was so uniform for a reason - most descenders had, out of necessity, side-slipped the entire line.
Looking at my feet - affixed to ski by free-heel touring bindings - I realized I may not even be making more than a few alpine turns - let alone a single telemark one.
Telemark skiing, at its most elementary definition, is a specific, Nordic downhill skiing technique. But it goes beyond that. With a free heel, the telemark binding allows for myriad approaches and interpretations. A broader definition sees the Nordic method as a foundation on which an ever-expanding palate of possible turns rests. This characterization of telemark skiing is thought of not as a rigid requirement, but instead a more abstract notion; as a style of skiing that allows the rider to interpret their gear, style, and ethos on their own terms – and not necessarily with strict adherence to the telemark turn.
But the fundamental definition of telemark skiing can bring forth an eponymous fundamentalism - that is a single-minded adherence to the genuflected turn. And while more than a few skiers of the free-heel persuasion balk at this inflexible definition, many feel this notion encapsulates the telemark ethos.
This rift-in-miniature continues today. “One of the funniest comments that I consistently get is [on] the park segments where people say ‘oh, they’re not doing tele turns,’” TELE COLO’s CJ Coccia noted while ruminating on his film “THIS IS TELEMARK.” Continuing, Coccia concluded; “So they kind of treat it either seriously or jokingly like it’s an alpine segment.”
But the idea of strict adherence to the telemark isn’t just a topic taken to by critics of the new school. Many a devoted - and proficient free-heeler - opines that to truly unlock the potential of the technique, one must fully and resolutely tread the genuflecting path.
But does every turn have to be a telemark turn?
Some would say yes. An argument can and has been made that The Turn not only engenders such passion in its practitioners, but that steadfast adherence to it is required for proficiency. Ty Guarino, AMGA-certified mountain guide, ski patroller, and telemark mountaineer extraordinaire, penned a piece for Voile Manufacturing (which he is an ambassador for) in February of 2021 entitled “The Telemark Ski Mountaineer: Tips, Tricks, and Discussion Points.”
In the piece, under the heading Practice How You Play, Guarino lays out his philosophy of telemark proficiency: “If you aspire to telemark ski well, especially as a ski mountaineer, you need to telemark ski every day you go skiing. No alpine skiing. Ever. Period.” Guarino expands on his reasoning, saying “the nuances and intimacies of the telemark turn demand your top physical and mental condition. If you are switching back and forth between the two disciplines, you will build muscle memory pathways in your brain for both types of turns. You don’t want your brain to be conditioned to do anything other. Understand and know the balance needed for having a free heel.”
While Guarino proclaims that the telemark skier must be devoted entirely to the free-heel endeavor to reap full benefits, he also notes the necessity of occasional alpine turns, though in a free-heel light. Mentioning the requisite technique flexibility, Guarino qualifies, “you will absolutely need to have the ability to make an alpine turn, but an alpine turn on free heel equipment. Some argue that they are the same turn. I would argue differently.” Guarino puts forth the ideal that telemark can be taken to single mindedly, and that in high-performance situations, that mindset is required.
But another vision of telemark philosophy exists. A piece in this canon comes from a Skimo.co blog entry from Cole Panter, listed as a “Skimo Co Staffer and Aspiring La Grave Resident.” His 2021 blog post, Locked Heels: A Tele Skier’s Foray into AT is, like Guarino’s article, amongst the most sober takes on the alpine vs. telemark debate in print, eschewing any hyperbole or provocativeness.
Within, Panter, a devoted telemark skier, came to find that his skiing path didn’t need to be paved in one direction. In particular, Panter noted how he long thought that any disadvantage his free-heel gear may engender could be overcome through strength and technique.
“I’d always thought that building enough strength and stamina would allow me to travel in the mountains without any compromises,” he writes, continuing “any incompetence in the mountains was a reflection of me, not my gear.”
But the efficiency gap between antiquated telemark gear and modern AT counterparts became an operative motive for Panter, who notes that the move to alpine touring from telemark “was a game changer” physically.
“When truly assessing the situation, it has become painfully clear that ‘modern’ tele gear, specifically the boots, is far from cutting edge. Their excess weight and inefficient ‘walk’ mode resembles a decades-old AT boot,” Panter noted.
Panter thus credits his subsequent higher energy levels and related ability to tackle bigger lines in the backcountry as indelibly linked to using lighter AT gear. Still, Panter counts himself amongst the telemark hoards, although with a caveat.
“One season later and most of my backcountry days are on an AT setup. But despite tele’s clear disadvantages, I just can’t fully shake my addiction to knee dropping,” says Panter, continuing “As a result, I have started to think of my AT gear as my new tools of the trade - something necessary for ski mountaineering - while my tele equipment has become more of a toy utilized only when the terrain is easily accessible and the tour stays below 5K feet of elevation gain.”
Interestingly, Scarpa has since released their completely rethought Tx Pro, a boot that will soon give telemark tourers an option at retail on par with midweight alpine touring options. And with bindings like Voile’s Transit TTS and InWild’s Meidjo - both telemark traps that incorporate a Dynafit-style tech toe long only found on alpine touring boots - the weight playing field seems to be leveling, though telemark boots and bindings on par with lightweight AT counterparts is yet a distant dream.
Still, telemark equipment has come ever closer to alpine as the years have gone by - even to the point where the Meidjo can incorporate an alpine heel, allowing the skier to choose between an alpine and telemark dynamic on one setup.
But regardless of any shortcomings, one attribute keeps free-heel gear at the top of the list for many, regardless of its weight: the fact that it allows the skier to make a sweet, soulful telemark turn. A turn that to many may not be a requirement for each arc - or each setup - but to others, amounts to the singular motive for moving over snow.
Still, the debate continues on, as it long has in telemark. As the late Paul Parker cheekily put it in his aptly named, legendary instructional Free-Heel Skiing: Telemark and Parallel Techniques, published first back in 1988: “I love parallel turns. Some of my buddies say I’m cheating. There’s no such thing as cheating. Anyway, if they could do them they’d probably cheat, too.”
My co-conspirator led as we descended the couloir. Just like it had accompanied us on our climb, nearly bulletproof snow greeted us for the descent. Long, gripped skids were punctuated with just a few jump turns, both of us using the alpine style, regardless of my Nordic-derived gear.
Near the terminus of the coolie we stopped for a moment to chat with a friendly duo beginning their climb. The lead climber made calm mention of rocks tumbling down the slope, to which I turned to find a cascade of jagged shards approaching at increasing speed. I quickly pointed my skis downhill and found refuge in a small alcove in the rocks. It seemed it was time to go home.
The sunbaked snow took on a more submissive quality as we exited the couloir. Driving with my backfoot, I made flowing telemark turns down the apron, into the woods below, toward our exit.
Stopping for a moment, my ski partner and I shared a hug and laughed off the rock fall we had narrowly dodged, and peered back up the narrow, icy slope we had just climbed and descended - a couloir that gave us an exciting and fulfilling day.
But it’s a line I have to return to. Something in me has to come back. And telemark the damn thing.
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