To My Dear Readers and Dear Listeners:
No sooner had I posted my (wonderful) podcast with Kim Reichhelm, than I started to feel queasy. In short order I was felled by a respiratory infection that got me in its grip and refused to let go. I won’t regale you with my abundant symptoms (the photo above bears silent witness to my body’s gift for effluvial production); suffice it to say, I was reduced to total helplessness that persisted for days.
I’m on the mend now, thank the Lord, but not yet up to par. With your kind indulgence, I’m going to take a brief sabbatical from churning out new content until my recovery is complete. I fully intend to return to my usual publishing schedule in the not-too-distant future. I will continue to answer all Member Consultation requests, so please share queries as they arise and I’ll do my best to get back to you ASAP.
Lest anyone feel shortchanged by this temporary suspension of newsletter and podcast publication, I remind you that my weekly Revelations and podcasts are a FREE service that always are available for the edification of all my Dear Readers and Dear Listeners.
With eternal gratitude for your continued support, I remain
Your Humble Servant,
Jackson
Related Articles
The Five Stages of Ski Finish Awareness
Don’t let the title fool you. Although it sounds like it, this Revelation isn’t about the degree to which skiing is top of mind among Helsinki society. The purpose of this exposé is to shine a light on a subject about which almost all skiers are woefully uninformed, namely the condition of their skis’ bases and edges.
Just in case you don’t imagine this subject worthy of your attention, I hasten to point out that how well your skis are tuned and maintained isn’t just a factor, it is the factor that determines how well your skis perform. A properly tuned ski, regardless of brand or type, is a delight for skiers of any and all abilities while an untuned ski is such a detriment that even supreme skill cannot overcome its liabilities.
From Fallible to Foolproof and Back
In the 1970’s, prior to the adoption of the first ski boot sole standard, boot makers were free to concoct any sort of sole they might imagine. Many skiers still used leather boots with laminated soles, even after the industry largely moved on to injected plastic, which enabled shapes and sole patterns leather couldn’t duplicate.
This incoherent jumble of boot designs showed no lack of imagination, but little consideration for how they might interact with a binding. Bindings were likewise free from any standards that might have limited the creativity of their designs, many of which were crafted specifically to reduce or eliminate the role of the boot.
The Road to Perdition
The road to hell is said to be paved with good intentions. In my experience, the friends and relatives of prospective boot buyers are a wellspring of wretched advice wrapped in bright ribbons of sincerity and concern.
(Let us pause a moment and prayerfully acknowledge the gratitude of bootfitters everywhere that the new, pandemic-driven bootfit protocol discourages the presence of a bootfit entourage composed of family, moral supporters and consiglieri.)
Back to the subject at hand, the particular nugget of advice I’m leery of is the customary admonition to avoid too stiff a boot as it will hurt, you’ll hate it eventually if you don’t detest it immediately, and it will inhibit your skills development. Get only as much boot as you need and no more, goes the conventional wisdom. Racers need stiff boots; you don’t.





