USASJ Story Project- Nov 30 JOHNSON

Alan Johnson in Germany in 1985. Note three days later his face
is still deformed from laughing so hard during Tittisee disco incident.

The rest of the boys in Hinterzarten that summer. 
FRONT- Hamler, Severson, Langlois, MIDDLE- Sydow
BACK-Linus, Petri, Touhy, Twink, Scholl, Humble Coach Bell

STORY No. 39

ALAN JOHNSON

Age 60 (the new 30)

Park City, UT

Athletic Director, USA Ski Jumping (and many other hats)

How do you pick one....too many.... I will choose a story that I hope is humorous. It is at someone else's expense which helps as nothing is truly funny unless it is at someone's expense. At least, that is my credo.

It was the summer of 1985 and we were in Hinterzarten, GER  for a week training and competition and it was coaches' “night out” at the disco in Tittisee.  We got there just in time… starting to fill up… but we escaped the line at the front door and settled in at one of the last available tables with a couple brews. My co-pilot that night was the one and only Señor Rex or more appropriately for this piece- Herr Bell, which will become apparent as the story unfolds.

A little background- Rex decided early on that he would NOT be aspiring to become bi-lingual with German as his 2nd language.

So halfway through our 1st of several brews, Rex asked where the bathroom was. As I said previously nothing is truly funny unless it is at someone's expense and I like to think of myself as an 'opportunist' in this regard. I informed him at the end of the hall there are 2 doors. The one on the left that says dammen is the men's room.  (Makes sense right?  Da’ MEN… German is so easy.)

I really can't remember who else was there that evening for verification sake. Hopefully after they read this story they will emerge but I could not have laughed that hard all by myself.

Meanwhile, back at the disco...

Rex entered without noticing the lack of urinals and went straight to a stall to take care of business (I believe Heizmannshoff Hotel used flax seeds in all their food). Within a minute of setting up shop, so to speak, Rex noticed that all the feet visible from his semi-sequestered perch were of the spiked high heel variety. The dilemma of his situation was just beginning to sink in...Sheer panic.

Did I forget to mention Herr Bell is extremely modest?

It was a long time before Rex could safely emerge as the "Dammen Zimmer" got very busy. I am not sure how long it was but it seemed like half an hour. The longer it took, the funnier it became.

Rex was holed up in the ladies room stall with his feet pulled up off the ground in a feeble attempt to avoid detection for a long, long time before he could safely emerge and when he did our guts hurt from laughing and tears ran down our cheeks..

2 beers at a disco in Hinterzarten disco - 8 Deutschmarks

Rex stuck in the ladies bathroom stall - Priceless.

USASJ Story Project- Nov 29 FRENCH

The aptly named Suicide Hill in Ishpeming, MI looks harmless enough in this old photo.

STORY No. 38

ELDRIDGE "FRENCHIE" FRENCH

Age 65

Chanhassen, MN

Minneapolis Ski Club

It was 1963 at the National Championships in Ishpeming, Michigan. I remember it to be a great ski jumping day, zero and clear. Coy Hill and Ralph had just finished sugaring the track and it was fast as hell. I was only sixteen and had never skied at Suicide Hill before.  Ed Brisson told me that the inrun would be fast so stay on my toes. He later told me I jumped about twelve feet early and , yes, I did tip over.  Not a problem for a young kid in great shape so naturally I ran back to the top for another one. I think I followed Jack Everson and Nipper and Dummer Jacobson. This time I was only six feet early and tipped over again landing on my head. I was shaking off the snow and Nipper came up to me laughing his head off wondering what the hell had happened. I told him I was hurt and he looked at me like I was crazy and broke out in laughter again. This time I pulled open the top of my sweater and he saw my collar bone all bloody sticking out of my shirt and he about puked right there.  I did not go back to Ishpeming until 1965. This time I tipped over on my second jump during the tournament and put my ski through my kidney. Corky Denisson had sustained a concussion so the good local Dr. Narotski flew us back to Minneapolis for further treatment. I spent a month in bed, not a lot of fond memories. At age 18 my ski jumping career had too many injuries to come back. I did continue to jump at Leavenworth, Westby and Iron Mountain but my days of Ishpeming were a thing of the past. I coached for several years with Ed Brisson, Lenny Johnson and Nipper Jacobson and today play an occasional game of golf with Nipper, Greg Windsperger, Jerry and Jay Martin. I did have a round with Corky Denisson a few years ago. Fond memories for sure, a lot of aches and pains today but I would never forget the wonderful experiences of ski jumping.

Frenchie, center, survived Suicide Hill and still plays golf with
 jumping buddies Greg Windsperger (L) and Jerry Martin (R).

USASJ Story Project- Nov 28 WEST/HAUGEN

Talk about feeling high over the knoll!   Anders Haugen in California in 1949... jumping cars at age 58!
Looking at this photo makes one wonder where our creativity has gone.  If jumpers could pull something like
this off with duct tape and baling wire in 1949 what could we conjure today if we put our minds to it?

STORY No. 37

TOM WEST

Age 65

Negaunee, MI

President/CEO of the U.S. Ski and Snowboard Hall of Fame

In this day and age when almost everyone regards skiing to be basically alpine skiing and snowboarding  it is easy to forget that the first American skier to win an Olympic medal was a ski jumper!  And this is a story with a special twist.

His name was Anders Haugen and he had immigrated from his native Norway in 1909 to join the rest of his family in the United States.   Arriving in Milwaukee, WI he promptly joined the Milwaukee Ski Club and was so good the club, inspired by his great ability built a jumping slide at Lake Nagawicka the following year.  Haugen went on from there to a distinguished career in the United States and was named on the first U.S.Winter Olympics Team in 1924.  He was also the team captain.

At the Olympics he recorded the longest jump in the Special Jumping Event but the judges made a miscalculation in the points so he was awarded fourth place.

Fifty years later , Jackob Vaage, the famous Norwegian skiing historian discovered the error.  The Norwegian government, in the true Olympic spirit, brought Haugen  to Norway where he was presented with the bronze medal by the daughter of Thorlief Haug, the original medal winner.    Eventually the International Olympic Committee, accepted this change (it didn’t at first) so that now, Anders Haugen of the United States is recognized as the bronze medal winner in ski jumping at the 1924 Olympic Winter Games, that were held in Chamonix, France.  He was inducted into the U.S. Ski and Snowboard Hall of Fame in 1963.

Portrait of young Anders.

Editor's note-  I recall a piece that ABC produced on Anders for 1984 Olympic coverage.  They asked Anders if he was thrilled to finally get his well-deserved bronze medal.  He was quite old by then (95 in Feb '84 and died that April) and his response was direct and priceless- Bah, the bronze!  He felt he deserved the gold but was screwed by judges who resented his emigrating from Norway.

Anders in later years.

USASJ Story Project- Nov 27 MAKI-FOUST

Alana and husband, Brandon- bringing the next generation!

STORY No. 36
ALANA MAKI-FOUST
Age 29
Cameron, WI
Itasca Ski Club, Coleraine, MN

I was born without a competitive bone in my body. Well, maybe just one or two competitive bones. I was also born with the last name Maki, which means I was introduced and grew up in the world of ski jumping.  I had on skis at by the age of three and broke my leg on the 10 meter at four. That is the beginning of my life in ski jumping and I loved it.

Alana finishing it off nicely... in many ways.

As I grew up, I had my share of good crashes. Three nasty ones coming one winter when I had grown a lot and was just not used to my gangly body. My dad says now that he was surprised that I kept with the sport. Lots of kids quit after a bad fall. Not me, I love ski jumping.  When I started training wih the central team at about 14, I was almost always the first one at the hill (you get more rides and don't have to wait as long!).  My one or two competitive bones may have shown a little at this time in my life as I was getting better.  I was always happy when my dad let me know after a tournament that I jumped "respectably."

At the age of 29, I will have my first winter off from ski jumping as I am expecting my first child. Next year I will be thirty and officially in the Masters class. I will make it! Even though I am pretty much terrified every first ride of the year...and I hope my jumpsuit will still fit me.

I must not leave out that, of course, I will introduce my future daughter to ski jumping. We already have a plan for building a small ski jump in the yard. And I am so happy to know that she, unlike many before her, will have the chance to reach for that Olympic goal as a woman ski jumper (if she has more competitive bones than her mother).

USASJ Story Project- Nov 26 STOLZLECHNER

If it looks like Nils is focussed on the camera and not the landing hill
in this shot, it's probably because he was. 

STORY No. 35

NILS STOLZLECHNER

Age 50

Kitzbuhel, AUT

Skigymnasium Stams, US Ski Team

When I graduated 1980 from the Skigymnasim Stams in Austria I accomplished something that no one thought would be possible. Four years prior at my arrival I was kind of a fat kid that was an OK alpine racer but decided to take up ski jumping at 14. Somehow and with luck I survived the learning curve but at the end did not make the Austrian team. In that country that means you are done as an athlete. People that know me, however, know that I am rarely done. I had an US passport and an idea. I found out that the US Ski Team had a new coach, Greg Windsperger. I also found an address for the US Ski Team in Park City so I wrote them a letter asking for a license to compete as an American in the summer events in Berchtesgaden. Before e-mail it took a while for my letter to reach Greg. I received a license (actually never had to show it). In late fall the US Ski Team came to train in Europe and coming from knee surgery it was the first time I had jumped since the previous winter and I hoped to impress the new coach. The guys all seemed OK- Jeff Davis, Jim Maki, Dave Solner, Jim Grahek, Jon Denny I think were on the trip. We went to Passo Rolle, Italy for snow training as well. After that I used all my saved up money to buy a ticket to go to Thunder Bay. That’s where I first met the Canadians, back then with Steve Collins and Horst Bulau two of the best ski jumpers in the world. Under Greg’s new style the team changed fast.  Jeff Hastings, who I first met in Lake Placid along with Mike Holland, Dennis McGrane, Mark Konapacke, Zane Palmer and Landis Arnold quickly excelled and by 1982 the US Ski Team had changed its face. John Broman, John Denney and Read Zuehlke from the old guard and a bunch of crazy wild new kids began to score top 15 finishes by 1984. One of the highlights for us certainly was the 5^th place in the team event at the 1985 World Championships in Seefeld, AUT beating Norway. In our best year we had 8 guys place in the top 15! I think the combination of a new dedicated coach, new raw talent and an Austrian kid who was a little arrogant really gelled well. Spending nights sleeping in the inrun tower at Berchtesgaden with Dennis and Landis, having to share a room with John Benzie for two weeks in T-Bay, driving cross country and running out of gas, hitting big birds on the freeway and the fire cracker fights while driving from Oberstdorf to Garmish are experiences that I will never forget. For me the US Ski Team set a path in my life that certainly made me a better person, taught me how to believe in the almost impossible and showed me that hard work pays off!  For what its worth, I would do this all over again. I miss the soccer matches and my teammates, am grateful for the opportunity I was given and look forward to the new generation following in our footsteps.

While jumping is no longer an option I have found something else that keeps me in the air J once you get that flight feeling its hard to let it go.

Nils's new source of adrenaline- kite boarding.  In addition to competing
he has his own line of boards- NJS Design.

USASJ Story Project- Nov 25 NELSON

WOW!  Glen Nelson skied through a major style change.  He began his
career flying with arms forward and by '58 made the switch to arms back!

STORY No. 34

GLEN NELSON

Age 76

Duluth, MN

Duluth Ski Club

It was 1958 and I just gotten married that fall and was skiing pretty hot...Building points for the Winter Games in Cortina, Italy.  I was at the tournament in Mpls or St Paul (can't remember) skied quite hot, so I thought, and the Duluth Ski Club members thought so also.  Only to find out the judges from Michigan selected a team from Michigan.  They selected 6 skiers and I ranked 7th. That was the best chance I had to qualify.

In 1953 as a junior in high school (just placed 1st for the Minnesota High School State Jumping Tournament) a carload of Duluth Ski Club members went to Steamboat Springs Colorado for the Junior Nationals. Upon completion of the competition Dan Kelly and I went to the top of the Howelson Hill and had several rides with Anston Samuelson (from St Paul Ski Club) and were clocked at 65 mph at the end of the bump...quite a ride!

I ended up coaching skiing at Proctor (MN) High School for several years. (jumping, cross-country and slalom).  I still ski downhill and cross-country several times a week, conditions prevailing. I have worked with the grandkids that are in town and have one that is skiing very good for Hermantown High School, (downhill) and lettered as an 8th grader and is currently a 9th grader.

Skiing has been a big part of my life and hope to have it continue for several years to come.

Editor's note-  The Cortina Olympics were in 1956.  In email exchanges with Glen we couldn't decide if these competitions were held in 1956 or whether he was trying out for the '58 World Championships which were held in Lahti, FIN.

USASJ Story Project- Nov 24 NEAL

Ron "Cowboy" Neal (above) fondly recalls Jeff Wright.

STORY No. 33

RON “COWBOY’ NEAL

Age 62

Great Falls, MT

University of Wyoming, US Ski Team

I thought someone should reminisce a bit about Jeff Wright. He was a very good friend of mine, an outstanding human being and a good jumper. Unfortunately he was killed on Harris Hill in Brattleboro, Vt. in 1975 at age 22. He was wearing a helmet (leather), but fell on the outrun sustaining a skull fracture that transected the middle meningeal artery and he quickly succumbed to an epidural hematoma.

This is somewhat ironic as 2 years prior to this Jeff and I had been in Europe for the four-hills tournament, along with the rest of the U.S. team, and our team physician was a recently minted neurosurgeon from Mayo. The three of us were exploring a medieval castle downstream from Bischofshofen when the doc fell down a hillside. He was ok, but he tutored us on the signs and symptoms of head injury, including subdural and epidural hematoma. He said it was necessary to decompress the epidural type swiftly through a burr hole. A Black and Decker was adequate if nothing else. Unfortunately no one was available with one at the time Jeff was injured.

I miss him still after 37 years and recall with gladness all the good times we had together.

Editor's note-  Link to an article on the Jeff Wright accident in the Montreal Gazette, Jan 6, 1975-  http://news.google.com/newspapers?id=LRQyAAAAIBAJ&sjid=2qEFAAAAIBAJ&pg=4054%2C1052161

USASJ Story Project- Nov 23 NORTH

Nancy's view from the top of Holmenkollen in the summer of 1977. 
Note the bowl is filled with water and a dock/stage positioned at the end.

STORY No. 32

NANCY NORTH

Age 56

La Crosse, Wisconsin

I'm not a ski jumper, but I've wondered what it takes to be one since a morning in 1977 when I climbed to the top of Oslo's Holmenkollen.

That summer I'd finished studying in England and went to live with a friend in Oslo and Hamar for a couple of months. She worked at the Norsk Folkemuseum, could knit while talking non-stop and never looking, and was a rabid speed skating fan. The previous winter we'd shopped in Trondheim's outdoor Christmas market, traveled snowy backways on her kicksled, and walked Oslo streets while fireworks crackled over the harbor on New Year’s Eve. We camped, hiked above Lake Mjosa, and stood at the edge of Geiranger fjord. But there was something about a quiet early morning visit to Holmenkollen, with nobody else around, that captured my imagination and stayed with me in a way that other things did not.

We left the apartment that morning before dawn, drove through the city, piled out of the car below the jump, and in unison our heads turned up. The jump was massive! I stood taking it in, wondering how anyone got to the point where they wanted to fly off the end of that run.

The winter before, on a drive through the mountains near Oslo with my friend's grandma, I'd heard stories about great uncles training for ski competitions in dark woods after long days of work, oil headlights casting shadows on hilly trails. Twilight images of rocky slopes and strong young men dressed in wool came to mind, and I wondered why they cared enough to train in those conditions, and what racing and jumping had given them—something of their own, a goal, excitement, friends, I thought.

Nancy North

We climbed the hill, then flights and flights of stairs. I wonder now if it's possible we really stood at the platform, but I remember being at the top, looking down the run, hardly breathing. In my mind's eye I moved down and off into thin air, city lights beyond, fans cheering below. The height was so imposing, the view so broad, the idea of it so amazing that I had butterflies.

We watched the sun rise over the city, then climbed down and went back to our usual view.

I've lived most of my life in the Midwest, driving now and then past the Bloomington and Westby jumps and in recent years, hearing about jumps that used to be—Red Wing, MN (10!), Washburn, WI, Lanesboro, MN, St. Olaf College—all places where Norwegians made their homes. When I see the jumps still in use, I look up and wonder again what it feels like, what inspires a beginner, and what it takes.

So ski jumpers, how did you get started? What does it feel like up there? What goes through your mind when you're ready to "fly?"

Editor's note- If you go to the blog where these stories are archived http://usasjstoryproject.blogspot.com/ you can leave comments... or in this case, ski jumpers can answer Nancy's questions, above.

USASJ Story Project- Thanksgiving T FULTON

Tom Fulton jumping for Hanover High School (NH) around 1972

STORY NO. 31

TOM “TUNA” FULTON

Age 58

Fairlee, VT

Ford Sayre/LOC/Hanover High School/Middlebury College

Maybe at some point I will have a story to share but I would like to use this space to thank some of the coaches, where ever they may be, who provided support and inspiration to me :

Bill Robes

Dave Bradley

Art Tokle

Sig Evensen

Bernie Dion

John Bower

Thanks guys for the countless hours, day and night you dedicated to the sport!

Editor's note-  I thought Tom’s heartfelt message of gratitude was especially appropriate for today- a day of giving thanks.

Yes, we are blessed.  We are blessed to have experienced both the risks and the rewards of ski jumping, and to have shared such an intense personal journey with others who helped us both shape and understand it.  And as Tom points out, we owe our good fortune to the people who stood on the sidelines and ushered us into and through the sport. The people who packed, flagged, car-pooled, cajoled, waxed, or all of the above.  A neighbor, a parent, a coach.  I hope Tom’s story gives each of us the inspiration to consider and maybe even reach out to these mentors.

For those of you not fortunate enough to have met Tom's coaches, some highlights from my recollections of them... for they were MUCH more than names on a page (and much more than I can give them in a sentence or two below):

BILL ROBES- An unassuming gentleman- woodworker and educator- with wire-rim glasses who always carried "Olav", a self designed and made scale wooden model ski jumper with hinges at every joint.  Bill would contort Olav to show you exactly what you were doing and what you needed to be doing.  He referred to forward lean in the air as for-lagge, Norwegian I always assumed.  It was rumored that he made his own wooden flying discs for kids long before Whammo "invented" (and patented) the Frisbee.  Deceased.

DAVE BRADLEY- Born and introduced to ski jumping in Madison, WI, Dave went to Dartmouth and was named to the 1940 Olympic Nordic combined team though never got to compete as the games were cancelled for WW2.  He went on to Harvard medical school and was an observer to the first nuclear tests in the Bikini Islands.  His published account of those tests, "No Place to Hide", was a best seller and led him to a position as an English professor at Dartmouth.  He was a big believer in the telemark landing and developed the "Bradley System" for judging which graded ONLY the landing (judges were positioned down the hill).  He did not suffer fools.  Deceased.

ART TOKLE- Art was a little before my time but struck me as another coach who did not suffer fools.  My biggest recollection of him was the piercing whistle he would give from the coaches stand the moment a jumper cleared the transition.  The whistle was clear indication to the next skier that the hill was safe for the next jumper (if barely).  God forbid he had to whistle a second time.  Deceased.

SIG EVENSON-  It would be hard to imagine a kinder, gentler soul than Sig.  He always carried a heavy accent from his native Norway and a rake, and was usually found around the take-off somewhere.  Sig understood that it all happened at the take-off and made sure the conditions were perfect.  And he groomed much more than snow- he had a keen eye for technique and a soft, compelling way of offering advice.  The quieter he spoke, the more carefully you listened.  Deceased.

BERNIE DION-  The Dions were famous as ski jumpers in Lebanon, NH and Bernie, as a member of this legacy, was larger than life to kids in the area.  As a coach he created and presided over a huge resurgence in the sport in Lebanon.   I recall hoards of us standing in long lines waiting for our turn to jump on the lighted 20m.  Bernie coached us all and kept it simple: you were either "early", "late", or "hit it perfect".

JOHN BOWER-  John was a two-time Nordic combined Olympian ('64 & '68) from Auburn, ME who won both the NCAA's (1961) and King's Cup (Holmenkollen 1968).  He attended and then coached at Middlebury College.  John was also the USST Nordic Program Director from '75-'80 and again in the late 80's (my boss in my last year of coaching in '88).  In that highly charged setting he amazed me as someone who only looked up and forward.  He never rested on laurels or got caught up in the politics or the history; he skated above it all and focussed only on what he could do today to make tomorrow better. 

Happy Thanksgiving.  Another World Cup season starts tomorrow in Lillehammer, NOR. 

USASJ Story Project- Nov 21 BORGEN

STORY No. 30
JERRY BORGEN
Age 83
Redwing, MN
Aurora Ski Club 1935-1950. President of Friends of American Ski Jumping and the American Ski Hall of Fame

Jerry & Tom Borgen in 1935- heading out to their
first jumping tournament with Grandpa Anderson.

Our first ski jumping tournament-  Grandpa Harris Anderson, President of the National Ski Association in 1927 and inducted into the American Ski Jumping Hall of Fame in 2008, organized a neighborhood ski jumping tournament in his backyard for kids 4 to 10 years old in 1935. The tourney included my brother Tom and I ... (Yep Tom and Jerry, no relation to the cat and mouse). We had a queen, a nurse, an official judge, several hill construction men (my dad), and the PA announcer of course was Grandpa Harris ... The longest leap was 4 feet, which may be stretching a little. Ducky Dubois (age 6) won the tournament with a jump of 4 feet.  But after the tourney we all received hot dogs, hot chocolate, and a ribbon with a small medal, at my Dad's store and restaurant.  Receiving the medals from Grandpa Harris was like receiving an Oscar from Bob Hope. The newspaper account the next day, said ... "Thousands of ski jumping fans turned out for the Second Annual National Tournament held on the corner of 7th and West Avenue in Red Wing as ski flyers soared with record breaking jumps far exceeding the jumps at Charlson Hill in the recently held National Tournament. Donald DuBois broke the hill record and came in first with a perfect jump of 254 feet, but Tommy Borgen stole the show with a jump of 200 feet showing perfect form and a Red Wing style finish." Grandpa Harris wrote the story for the paper.



Borgen's grandfather- Harris Anderson

USASJ Story Project- Nov 20 CANTLIN

STORY No. 29 
BILL CANTLIN

Age 64

Thornton, NH

Lebanon (NH) HS Ski Team, Dartmouth Ski Team, US Ski Team


Bill Cantlin on the cover of SkiWeek in 1967

Back in the early sixties some of us (then) kids went over to the twenty meter jump in Lebanon, NH at night after a snow storm to pack the jump so we could use it the next day. It was one of those nights when you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face and this was way before the jump was lighted. By the time we got done packing our flashlights were dead. The hill was perfect and someone suggested we go off the jump. One guy smoked and offered to light two matches at the takeoff on both sides of the track. Brilliant idea. Light the matches, “all clear”, kick off, but the matches burned out before the jumper got to the takeoff. It was scary for that first jumper sailing into the darkness (I have forgotten who it was ) and we howled with laughter. We spent more time trying to light the matches at the right time so they were still burning when the jumper got there. Sometimes it worked out. Sometimes it didn’t. It was fun and we, apparently, were making a lot of noise laughing and cheering because we exited the hill under the full lights of a Lebanon police cruiser.

USASJ Story Project- Nov 19 J MARTIN

STORY No. 28

JAY  MARTIN

Age 68

Minneapolis, MN 

‘64 & ‘68 Olympics, ‘66 FIS, National Champion 68, National Judge

Jay Martin... with one of Dave Hicks's Northlands! 
Hopefully HIcks got a share of the style points on this one.

As with many of you my second family is the ski jumping community.  I ran the Mpls ski club program which for many years ran two sites, Theodore Wirth and Bush Lake.  I  was program director and coach from 1972 until 2004.  I loved being an athlete, coach, and all the great times we all had together.  That's the motivation that keeps me going.

I've a few stories to share. I traveled a lot like most of you but I went to college in Laramie Wyoming from 1963 to 1968 so getting to some of the events became an issue.  One of those times was my trip to Ishpeming.  The weather delayed my Friday arrival day to Saturday. I arrived in Marquette around noon with the tournament starting at 1pm.  I got a taxi and had him turn on the radio so I could listen to the event. I heard the Star Spangled Banner and knew I had to change. I was changing into my jump gear in the taxi with my skis hanging out the window.  The tournament had started and was well on its way when I arrived.  I ran up to the truck with bibs and put mine on. With maybe 12 numbers in front of me, I ran up the stairs. In those days that's the way it was done.  Plus this was the 1^st round. Practice was over. I got to the top with little to spare. Out of breath I got the flag and kicked out down the ramp. I hit the take of perfectly, sailed through the air and landed.  I had the longest jump of the round.

Another was the red eye plane ride and bus ride to the NCAA Championships at Crystal Mt, WA.  I was late again and missed the practice.  It was snowing and blustery. Since I was late they put me up first.  There had been so much snow that winter, the in-run had to be cut out of the snow down about 8ft to get a good R-1.  I didn't realize it but during the wait between practice and the event the snow had built up in the R-1.  I got the flag and down I went.  I was pressing extremely forward so I could move forward fast and powerful.  I hit the powder snow in the R-1 and walked of the take off. To save myself, I did a swan dive, skis behind me.  Lit on my chest and slid to a stop, healthy.  Brushed the snow off, put my coat on and watched the rest of the event. That's on TV.

How about this one. It was Nationals at Berlin, NH.  On my first ride I had walked up to the top with time to spare.  I put my skis up in the corner of the box.  Moments later someone bumped them and one goes sailing through a hole off the back of the jump to land in the snow below.  We yelled down for someone to get my ski.  I ran down the scaffold and met the guy at the bottom of the stairs.   I grabbed my ski and ran to the top watching the skiers go by.  Ansten Samuelson was the guy in front of me.  He waited, shuffling his skis back and forth, ‘til I reached the top.  Of f he went.  I threw my skis down, slapped them on, again out of breath, got the flag.  Down I went, hit the take-off, flew high over the knoll and lit setting a new hill record.  Not ever to be broken.

Then there was the time in Lake Placid 1968 for the Olympic tryouts. We had just arrived back from the Springer Tourney to LP on Tuesday for the weekend competition.  My skis and luggage got lost.  So no practice ‘til Friday.  Still with no equipment, I begged to borrow some equipment for a couple of jumps.  Coy Hill, rest his soul, said he'd take a couple and let me use his stuff. He was 5'9 .  I was 5' 11.  He wore size 42 boots.  I wore size 44.  I poured into his outfit took his skis and away I went.  With my toes curled, my long bare arms hanging out from his sweater and skis too short, I had a couple of jumps.  He said, if my stuff didn't come in time, we would have time in the round to do a switch. After practice, when we arrive back at the lodge, my equipment had come. On Saturday with my own equipment, I place 3^rd behind Bakke and Balfanz.

Some of you would never think of doing this. Because of the 64 season and Steamboat, Hicks and I were down to one ski each out of the two pair we each got from Northland for the Olympics.  So in 1965 I skied with his 8'2 and my 8'4 Northland.  I'm using them in the picture.