From the haters to the zealots, the discussion on telemark is rife with ineloquence. Let’s elevate the conversation or give it a rest.
Okay, maybe I click-baited you a little with a hyperbolic title. But it’s warranted. The topic at hand knows almost nothing but hyperbole. And perhaps a dose of misunderstanding and generalization.
But it doesn’t have to. Telemark skiing is full of the genuine.
When I first started telemark skiing, bright eyed and simply addicted, my skiing life existed in the purity of a honeymoon state. I had only cursory knowledge of the gear and the culture – those things just didn’t matter at the time. All I wanted to do was link free-heel turns. At most, what I possessed was a few tips, and a sense of unwavering good nature from an instructor who had shown me the ropes during the five weekends we spent together during local’s clinics. More than anything, I had the promise of beginning something new that I was already in love with.
Soon enough I dove in deeply. First, I found forums and blogs. Articles – some new, most old, none of them in mainstream skiing magazines – dissected the gear and examined the ethos of free-heel skiing. Online, I discovered analyses on equipment that ski shops in town weren’t familiar with, and I happened upon cutting-edge discussions on DIY innovations. All of this thanks to a small but devoted cadre of earnest enthusiasts.
But I eventually discovered this wasn’t the main thread in the telemark discussion, whether in long-form, short post, or even face-to-face. Misunderstandings and thin skin abounded on all sides while jokes with expiration dates in the aughts won the day. The height of telemark discussion in most places never reached beyond a certain, lowly threshold. The level of discourse remains there to this day.
I believe that’s because telemark skiing tends to be either the most soulful thing you’ve ever felt or the most brainless, smelliest, patchouli-ridden endeavor you’ve ever made fun of. It’s stuck between being a joke and a religion. Existing in such a conundrum, telemark gets only so much mainstream attention, often as lure to goad clicks, comments, and controversy. Not exactly the realm of high-mindedness. Nor doing much for the sport – or any of us.
Unless the discourse is set to rise, telemark should be left alone while we all move on.
Take the example of one Paddy O’Connell, SKI contributor emeritus, and his March 2021 piece “Telemark Skier, Why Are You The Way You Are?” The article received widespread readership for its poke-the-extinct bear angle. In the piece, O’Connell travels down the most worn of paths, sardonically tearing tele skiers an old one, reciting jokes from probably before he was born. For instance, O’Connell ends the article with the line “perhaps it’s time to click in your heel and ski for real. That, or make sure to up your visits to the local dispensary. Because, as the joke goes: What did the tele-skier say when he ran out of weed? “Dude, these bindings suck!”
Having heard these tropes for decades, most of the remaining endling telemark skiers let out a collective yawn and moved on.
But a few on the telemark side of the aisle didn’t bring their A-game either – in fact, some of their defensive reactions toward O’Connell were downright appalling. O’Connell was stalked on his Instagram by those who felt moved to act as children. Speaking to Josh Madsen on the Freeheel Life podcast, O’Connell related that “I was kind of shocked that some people got so up in arms,” continuing that he was “very shocked that people tracked me down on social media.”
Angry telemark skiers, virtual torches in hand, went as far as direct-messaging O’Connell and disparaging him on unrelated posts he was tagged in. Telemark had undoubtedly shown an underbelly that was of the nastiest kind.
Though the reactionaries themselves didn’t seem willing or able to elevate the conversation this time around, the telemark faithful do yearn to end (most of) the teasing, and hope that one day The Turn might once again be on higher ground, with more participants, where the gear and the ethos can be openly discussed in a manner the sport deserves.
In this light, this author even jumped into the fray. My piece “A Free-Heel Skier Takes a Long Look In The Mirror” attempted to flip the script – in large part in reaction to O’Connell’s article. Seemingly a treatise about a telemark skier who questions if the jokes and tropes might be on to something, my piece then set a trap, goading in conclusion: “but if telemark’s detractors say, ‘Lock the heel, ski for real,’ what’s their excuse?”
While the article received reactions and comments on Facebook and other platforms of modern communication, it didn’t create the conversation I hoped for: a reexamination of how stale telemark hate has become, no matter how in jest. Some called the article drivel; others nostalgically waxed that the writing was of the poorest standard compared to the content that appeared in the late Powder. There were a few ‘likes’, too. But most comments were off topic. I appreciated being published for the first time, and that people seemed to actually read my drivel. I even liked throwing a little shade at telemark haters. But I questioned – and still do – if I had moved the conversation forward or simply contributed to the noise.
Perhaps telemark – and perhaps all of us – did better when it was left to its own devices, not made the subject of stale ridicule and superficial examination. Telemark oft is the subject of definition by those within and without. It is a fool’s endeavor to many, a soulful turn to some. Many know telemark simply as a humorous device. And to some It is worthy only when teaching kids to ski to avoid abject boredom, while to others it’s a challenge in body and mind that can only be known if experienced. No matter what these designations mean to individuals, on paper and conversation they are all cliches. And they continue, ad infinitum. Why rehash these repeatedly?
Telemark deserves coverage – and occasional ribbing. But the monotony of the discourse is hard to ignore. Many who don’t truly know the scene or the technique are giving their two cents, often getting more visibility than pieces that actually push the sport forward. Go look at EarnYouTurns.com if you want to see telemark content that does that.
And the cleverness has been beaten out of the lighter side of the dialogue from years of repetition. There are indeed mysterious corners of the internet where telemark receives interesting and innovative attention. But the noticeable banter on the sport is lacking in creativity and is directed not at enlightening so much as entertaining and provoking reactions.
I suppose I’m doing my part to provoke a reaction here, too. My ramble is both cynical and revisionist. It’s almost like Prince Harry disavowing the crown in his tell-all, all the while using his royal title and mononym as his penname. But as is the nature of things right now, it’s hard to get a telemark article published without stirring the pot.
So consider it stirred, if only slightly by one lowly free-heel voice. I’ll leave you with a quote, again from Mr. O’Connell – who ironically has now tried telemark skiing:
“It should be noted that I have never tele-ed, which may cause you to think that my confused response to the genuflected turn holds no sand. But it should also be noted that I have never tried a dog turd casserole either, and yet, I still just know it ain’t for me.”
Perhaps what deserves a sarcastic comparison to an undesired, fecal hotdish isn’t so much telemark skiing as it’s the way we converse about it – humorously or not. The conversation will become something a little more palatable when telemark is good and ready – not when the articles and jokes are forced for affect.
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