Dad hits the slopes

My dad was a competitive cyclist in his younger years but when he became storekeeper/family man he did not seem to have time for outside sporting interests. He was introduced to skiing in middle age by our association with the Lofts family and he came to love it in a very elementary sense. The whole family would wake early on Sunday morning, leave home before daybreak, travel three to four hours to the snow, ski all day then drive back home to Cobargo arriving around ten in the evening. These were the days when much of the trip was by winding dusty dirt road with the accompanying inconvenience of travel sickness for some. But even this was small sacrifice for the thrills of the snow. The only occasions I recall my dad holidaying without Mum was for our annual pilgrimages to the Smiggins car park with the old caravan in tow. They were some of the best times spent with my dad.

Home-made snow skis

The sport of skiing was in it's infancy in 1956 and was generally considered a sport that required considerable financial support. The hiring of ski gear and accommodation in the snowfield was limited and expensive. As a consequence we made the decision to purchase our own. A hooded shower proof, down filled parka, together with stretch ski pants that were moisture repellent and ski boots, goggles, gloves and woolen socks took care of the slopes fashion requirement.

My first pair of skis were home-made and constructed as a school project. This was the idea of my inspirational geography teacher, Greg Lofts. The skis were constructed from ash timber, placed in a press and kiln-steamed to set the required bow. Many hours were spent with a spoke-shave shaping the planks to just right thickness and shape. Then when completed the sides were rebated and steel edges screwed in for the length of the ski. Finally a special formulated paint was applied to the bottom of the plank to take the application of ski wax. This provided the ski a most efficient resistant-free run on the snow.  Ski length was determined by standing by the ski, raising one arm and fitting the tip of the ski into the palm of the up-stretched arm.

Smiggins Caravan Park

Smiggins Hole 1956

I was sixteen at the time and a keen skier. The two caravans in the photo were those of my parents and school friend Barry Lofts' family. The vans were parked in the public park adjacent to the Smiggin Holes Cafe. For the next two weeks we skied our hearts out. We were able to do this unofficially of course, for about three years before a ranger type person told my dad it was not on! Imagine trying to do that  in 2011.

I recall the first ski tow I experienced here at Smiggins. It was a rope tow operated by the mountain tourist pioneer, Johnny Abbottsmith who at the time operated the Smiggins Cafe. The tow consisted of an endless rope that ran around pulleys at each end, driven by a temperamental motor cycle engine. 

The idea was for the skier to take hold of the moving rope and hold tight as the rope pulled its load to the top of the hill. During particularly cold weather gloves sometimes froze to the rope during the upward journey and it took some very smart handiwork to slip the hand from the glove before it reached the return pulley and then retrieve the empty glove as it began its downward journey.
Whilst it was not the first ski tow in the mountains, it was my first ski tow, and affordable at five shillings for the day. The others were too expensive for the likes of us. Skiing was just catching on having been made popular by migrants who worked on the snowy scheme. many of these people were of European extraction and were excellent skiers and I suspect were the nucleus of the early Australian ski instructors. 

As our skill level improved and we progressed from stem turn, to parallel christie and began cross country skiing, we at the same progressed to the poma lift and T bars and eventually the chairlift at Perisher. Those were the days ......