The future of Nordic combined ski jumping in Calgary in 2000. FRONT Morgan Goodwin, Geoff Howe, Alex Glueck, Trey Oxford, Chris Decker. BACK Race Price, Adam Schwall, Brendan Nicholson.
GEOFF HOWEAge 31Gunstock Nordic AssociationGilford, NHhowerdser@yahoo.comI grew up in NH jumping the great hills at Gunstock, and had moved to Lake Placid to go to National Sports Academy (NSA), affectionately known as the “No School Academy” for us ski jumpers. With only 4 of us ski jumpers/ NC skiers in the whole school it only took a sideways glance between us to know that one of us would make a call to the teachers explaining that there was simply NO WAY we could make it to class that day; there was training we just COULDN’T miss. Playing hooky we would jump into the Decker’s Explorer and b-line it to the GFU to pick up a supply of candy and soda and head to the ski jumps! The friends I made during this time have stayed with me, and are still my closest of friends. They are my family, US ski jumping is one big family!At one point this picture represented the future of USA Nordic Combined, or so we thought! It was the spring of 2000 and there was a very heated competition going on in the USA NC world. The next development team was to be named based on how we did during the World Cup “B” tour that was traveling North America.The picture was taken at the event in Calgary at the end of the tour. For me wasn’t just the end of the tour that took me from Lake Placid to Steamboat and then to Calgary, it was the start of a very exciting adventure. The next devo team was named and I was lucky enough to be on the list. It was a dream come true! Getting named to the team I promptly dropped out of high school and drove West; I figured that I was going too much anyway! This was a choice that caused me lots of grief for a long time but one that I would do again in a heartbeat! Ski jumping allowed me to travel the world and meet so many amazing people, I wouldn’t change anything! To all you mothers out there appalled at the thought of their kid dropping out of high school to go ski jumping, don’t worry, it all works out in the end! After some of the most amazing years of my life I finished school and am currently a nuclear engineer with a great job….let your kids follow the dream! Reading these jumping stories has reminded me of how amazing this sport is, and how much in common we all share!
Howe plying and playing the LP updrafts.
The binds that tie... and stick. Frenchie's ski jumping buddies, now golf friends Nipper Jacobson, Greg Windsperger, and Jerry MartinELDRIDGE "FRENCHIE" FRENCHAge 66Chanhassen, MNMinneapolis Ski Club During the mid to late sixties the Central Division of the USSA had Winter Training camps before and after Christmas at Mt. Valhalla near Bayfield, Wisconsin. This was just off Lake Superior so the lake effect snow dropped six plus inches of snow every night and the temperatures hovered well below zero. Needless to say we tracked and tracked that hill about four times a day, sometimes more. I remember one year when the snow was unusually heavy and the coaches loved to have us to run in the snow after jumping. On one particular day we were to run up the side of the landing hill and circle through the woods for about a mile and back down to the outrun. Dummer Jacobson thought he and I could take a short cut through the woods without getting caught by the coaches. As soon as we dropped off the trail I knew I was in big trouble. Dummer lead the way, at six feet six plus, and started to sink to his waist. I followed and was pretty much buried in the snow. It took us about an hour to take our short cut and catch up with the others who were sitting in the out run and laughing their asses off. Those winter training camps were all about ski jumping but also about great developing life time relationships. The Jacobson twins and I keep in touch almost daily by email after 52 years of friendship and countless bullshit stories when we get together in person. Every year Nipper shoots more deer, catches larger fish and sinks more long putts than any human alive. Without ski jumping our paths would never have crossed. The stories from the training camps could go on forever and fond memories will never die.
Todd Ek at Theodore Wirth Park in the 70's... where mom knew best!TODD EKAge 46Minneapolis Ski ClubMinneapolis, MN.mooseknucklebros@gmail.com Being 4’ - 4” tall, short legged and 7 years old made reaching the next very well rounded 2x4 nailed into the ice caked in-run of the 30m ski jump at Theodore Wirth Park almost impossible to navigate. Hoisting my well-worn Elan rental ski jumping skis on my right shoulder made the 66 steps to the top of the scaffolding impossible. I had already been up there many times before, after, and during practice. I was certainly in the way. I had been up there so many times it never dawned on me that I couldn’t carry my skis to the top solo. I had been learning and practicing all season under the tutelage of the Nordic guru, Selmer Swanson. Selmer was a prodigious character and awe-inspiring instructor of children. He was slight in frame but powerfully influential. He had a bit of an accent and looked like he had just skied down the mountain side to arrive un-winded to each practice. He was perfect for molding the young minds of this team of aspiring Olympians. There were 20-30 fervid young men of all ages in training to be the next champion. I am pretty sure I was the youngest recruit of the bunch. I was in awe at how the senior cadets would fly across the locker room carried above Selmer’s shoulders then drop to the tiled floor one foot in front of the other in a perfect telemark landing. It was only a couple of weeks before I was standing on the built-in bench flying across the row of lockers. First one then 2 and finally three lockers in distance. I am not sure if flying three lockers was a test. But soon after I could hold the flight position for 3 lockers I was ready for the 30m hill. At least in Selmer’s mind.I went on soaring off the small bump in the rear of the Wirth Park Ski hill winning medal after medal and growing in confidence until one day I heard coach Selmer telling my dad he thought I was ready for the big hill but only after it was declared my idea. IN the car on the way home that evening I said I was ready. The next week I made the 5 steps up to the small landing before the 2x4’s started to ascend the in-run of the 30m hill. When I got there I spun and looked down the length of my snow covered skis off the end of the rickety old jump. I was confident I would shoot right through the middle of two little pine boughs that were sticking in the snow signaling the end of the two newly iced tracks that traverse in the middle of the chute. As I turned to head up 3 things occurred to me. How high take-off was, the blur of the jumper that whizzed passed me, and the look of terror on my mom’s face as she looked watched my deploy. That was when the trouble started. I was just too small to get up the 2x4 steps! That was not exactly a true statement but I was going to use it to get me out of the senseless predicament I had put myself in. I was scared to death. The fear came so sudden it made me dizzy. I tried and tried to get up those first few steps. I even threw in a fake slip for good measure that made be drop my skies, accidentally. There was no way I was going to make it to the top. Tears started to well in my eyes and by the time I gathered my Elans, which now resembled an X in my feeble arms making it nearly impossible to navigate the steps back to the bottom, the tears were streaming down my face. I may have even been blubbering a little but I have wiped that memory from my mind years ago. At the bottom of the stairs, I handed my skies to my concerned and attending mother. I am not exactly sure how things transpired in my mom’s mind at that exact moment but in hind sight, I think she tried a reverse psychology play, so not to scar my young but growing male ego and self-esteem. Like an Olympic champion she closed up those scissoring ski’s with a “whack” and before all the clinging snow had jumped to the ground she said in the sweetest voice I have ever heard, “Honey, I know how much this means to you, so I will carry your ski’s up for you this one time”.Over the years, I have been able put together what Mom was thinking on the way up to the top of the 30m. In order of course:1. Why did I go on that ski trip to Colorado?2. Why did I let that sweet man go up the chairlift with me?3. Why when I found out that nice man was a ski jumping instructor from Minnesota did I introduce him to Chuck (my dad).4. Why was hockey so expensive?5. Why didn’t I realized my young son was just as stubborn as me!On the walk up the scaffold, I had had a lot of time to figure out my next move to get me off the top of that jump. This did not include putting on my skis and flying of the end. I cried and I cried and begged my mom to carry my skies back down so we could go home. My one mistake, my best mistake, was to have not yet understood the definition of stubborn. My caring, sensitive and attending mom attended to me all right. She dropped my skis into the ruts in the starting gate, picked me up and dropped me into my bindings and under threat of never being able to ski jump again forced me to cinch the bindings. That wasn't quite enough to get me to shove off but it didn’t take much longer for me to realize that if I didn't begin this little journey she was going to start it for me. So, down I went. I don’t really remember much about the actual jump because it was one of the most out of body experiences I have ever had. I have had dreams of flying off a ski jump and never landing again for years after that day. I do know that I landed just over the knoll and slid down the hill on my butt until I came to a an exhilarating stop.Somewhere along the way back up the hill I passed my mom with a big smile on my face only to hear her shout, “Just one more time, I have to get home and cook dinner!” After that greatest day, I jumped and competed for the next 15 years and again for a couple of years in my late 20s for fun. Ski jumping made me different, confident and interesting. I didn’t make it to the Olympics. Heck, I was never really that good but I was a ski jumper and that will always make me “special”.EDITOR'S NOTE- Check out Mooseknuckle Bros., Todd's band these days.
Joe Lamb forejumping the 1972 FISU Games in Lake Placid. Already an Olympian (Sapporo '72 at age 16) he was too young to compete in the FISU tournament!JOE LAMBAge 59Lake Placid Ski ClubLake Placid, NY God, what an awful task! I have started to write something at least 10 times in the past year and have had to delete each story one after the other. Each time I tried to write about just one story or experience it quickly became evident that the story line would become too complicated and if you were not there in person, then the feeling of that moment is far too difficult for me to explain or write about. Ski Jumping/Nordic Combined was a huge part of my life for 50 years. I started skiing at age 2 and joined John Viscome’s Lake Placid Junior Jumping program at age 5. Growing up on Hillcrest Ave. next to the village park in Lake Placid provided role models that included Olympians Jim Page, Jim Shea, and of course Jay Rand for us to look up to. Junior jump practice was held each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night behind the local High School, with a range of ages from 6 to 18 on either the 15m or 30m hill. It was usual to see a small group each of these nights skiing up along the roads edge from the village park on Hillcrest to the junior jumping hills behind the high school (site of current 1980 arena). Snow removal equipment was not as prevalent in the ‘60s as it is today thereby allowing for large snow banks so we could ski our way to the jumps and back home after practice. An important ingredient to the success of the program was that the older J1, J2 jumpers always showed interest and support of the younger J3 and J4. Our neighborhood was scattered with snow bumps of 15’ to 60’ foot jumps in size. Of course the largest ones were always located in Jay’s back yard. A small group of 4-8 kid’s age’s 7 -11 hung out daily after school, jumping from one snow bump location to the other. In total, I can remember having 6 or 7 sites throughout the neighborhood. A period of time was spent each day making the jumps bigger and preparing/marking the hill. Jay taught us to build the snow bumps that always provided enough takeoff speed, 2/3 inrun and 1/3 landing, that way we would jump to the flat (”the pit”) and throw in a telemark. It was from this foundation of hill preparation, design, grooming and marking that lead to my officiating career later in life. I can not adequately express my gratitude to John Viscome, Bud & Alice Colby and all the parents that arranged for us to be scuttled off 4 to 5 weekends each year on the yellow high school bus to sites like Bear Mountain (biggest trophies), Brattleboro, Beacon and Salisbury. I can still picture the scene of 20 plus kids dressed in matching red ski jackets, red knit ski hats and red “V” neck sweaters with blue/white trim gathered together loading/unloading the bus. By the time we were J2’s we started competing at Rumford, Middlebury, Berlin and into Canada to Ottawa (Kim Fripp, Pat Morris, Horst Bulau, Jean Sequin), Three- Rivers (Jacques Charland), and Quebec City. It was a great time period to have participated within the sport. I was also very lucky to grow up under the watchful eyes of many Nordic skiing icons that have impacted my lifelong involvement in skiing. First, I must start with my father: he had me calculating the Nordic combined tables by age 6 and provided me the opportunity to follow my dream. In addition, here are a few names I recall that made a difference in my life and owe a debt of gratitude towards. To C. Allison Merrill you could never asked for a more supportive role model and mentor. To Art Tokle, who lit the fire within me to be a ski jumper and to Bernie Dion, for teaching me to actually jump hard at the takeoff. To Ed Brission, a huge thanks for being a friend, my favorite coach and above all, for all you did in preparing so many hills, on so many days, for so many of us. To Perry Crosby Smith, whom I respect for the knowledge and passion he has given to the sport of ski jumping. To Steve Gaskill who ignited the dream of Nordic Combined skiing in America. To Chip (leaping Llyod) Lacasse for accepting something less then what he paid for and for his role in USSA today. To George Martin for giving me my first 17 point style note in a competition. To Ken Tolkle and family for providing me a wax room and their calming company in Brattleboro in 1972. To J. Chris Beattie, my training partner in the formative years. To Larry Stone, for having more years invested than I have in this sport. I thank Jim Page for providing me with my initial opportunity to become involved with the USST in 1981. Finally, to all my friends that I have shared an experience within the sports of Ski Jumping/Nordic Combined, I am sure you know who you are, Thank you. . I have been fortunate enough to attend 7 Winter Olympic Games in my life, each one in a different role and an entirely different experience. I am proud that since 2010 as a passionate American Nordic skier I can state proudly that I have heard our national anthem at the OWG. I just hope that next time I hear it, I won’t have as long to wait (86 years) as I won’t be around. Go team USA in Sochi 2014.Editor's Note- Lamb was inducted into the UVM athletic hall of fame in 1996- see profile here. 
Picture are from Left to Right- Toni Guggemoose -- GER -- FIS COCNC Coordinator; Jochen Bruder -- GER -- FIS NC TD asst.; Roman Kumpost -- CZE -- FIS NC TD ( currently member of FIS Council); Joe Lamb -- Chief of Competition -- NC; Uli Wehling -- FIS Race director -- 3 time Olympic Gold medalist NC 72,76,80; Alan Johnson -- SLOOC Venue Manager
Kris on a long one in Hakuba, Japan in 1999. Hakuba hosted the jumping events for the 1998 Nagano Olympic Winter Games.
KRIS EDLUNDSki jumping mom & volunteer extraordinaireSt. Paul Ski ClubWoodbury, MNskijumpmom@q.comGrowing up in a small southern Minnesota town, I only knew about ski jumping from watching "The Agony of Defeat" in the opening sequence of ABC's Wide World of Sports and from the Winter Olympics. I enjoyed watching all the events, ski jumping included, however I gravitated more towards figure skating. Skipping ahead several years, while living in Ft Lauderdale, FL and working for a tour company, I sat next to a Northern Minnesota girl, who would tell me stories of attending ski jumping tournaments in Coleraine. I thought it sounded fun in the spectator sense only (coming from one who is terrified of heights and not a skier). May of 1992, while on a 3 week trip to Europe starting in Norway, I saw the famed Holmenkollen ski jump in Oslo and sat on the ski jumps in Lillehammer as they were being built for the 1994 Olympics. In April of 1995 when I met a guy named Dave, little did I know at that time, how much I would be involved with this wonderful sport of ski jumping. I remember attending my first "Big Hill" event in Westby, WI the winter of 1996 and asking the guy next to me all kinds of questions about ski jumping as I didn't have a clue other than it was so exciting to watch and I loved the sound of the wind as the skier flew through the air. Since that time, I have attended so many tournaments that I can't even begin to count. Family vacations have been centered around what ski jumping tournament can we attend or if there wasn't a tournament it would be what ski jumping hill can we visit. I started out as your basic spectator at these events, progressing to volunteer work at the St Paul Ski Club and have held a couple different positions within the Central Division. My favorite is taking ski jumping photos of all the athletes at the tournaments that I attend. I can't forget to mention becoming a "Skijumpmom" and number 1 fan of my boys: Davey, Trevor and Joey. I have yet to try jumping myself, just not up for that challenge even if it is on the bunny hill at our home club. Living in Minnesota, where hockey takes top bill, I just have to laugh when I hear those Hockey Moms complain about how cold it is to sit in a rink all weekend and watch hockey. They don't know what cold is! Until you stand outside at a ski jumping competition for a few hours to watch your kids fly down the hill and that bottle of water that you had in your pocket is now frozen solid! However, you know I wouldn't trade in those moments for anything in the world! I have grown to love this sport and consider all the friends that I have made my second family! 
Olympic jumps under construction in Lillehamer in 1992. Kris with friend Deb. The jumps were ready the Olympics in 1994.
CARPE DIEM- USASJ athlete (and reigning normal hill national champion) Nick Alexander at his first World Cup in Willingen, GER with father, Jim.JIM ALEXANDERLebanon Outing ClubLebanon, NH M.James.Alexander@hitchcock.org On a cold December day in 2008 I answered my cell phone to hear my son Nick on the other end of the line calling from his ski jumping trip in Europe, “Hey Dad I’m going to be in my first World Cup in Willingen Germany in a couple weeks – you should come.”What, was he nuts? Drop everything and go to Germany – in two weeks? I had only traveled to Europe once in my life twenty years earlier, and frankly as parents our job was to stay home and make the money to keep the athletes jumping. My wife Deb was a teacher with very little flexible time off and couldn’t go. As well, Nick raised funds from people in the area to be able to continue his jumping dreams. How could I go and waste the money? A good friend from our community, former ski jumper and fundraiser for Nick, Bill Cilbrith, told me that ski jumping wasn’t just for the jumper and that I needed to go. He told me I would regret not jumping at a chance to be with my son at this time in his life. My wife encouraged me to go and be part of this experience with Nick. Still, I just couldn’t justify what seemed like a lavish adventure. The next morning Nick called again, “Hey Dad, I found a flight for you from Manchester, NH to Frankfurt Germany for $427.00…round trip” He also reminded me I was accumulating travel reward points on my credit card; the flight was inexpensive but I never expected one that cheap – He had me…..he had me at a lousy four hundred bucks! Credit card reward points…. Where do I sign? In two weeks I was with my adult son bombing down the road after he found me roadside in Marburg, Germany where we continued together the drive up to the hills of Willingen for a great 3 night trip and his first World Cup. The trip was filled with many adventure’s; such as our coach arriving late, necessitating that I represented the US coaching staff in the official FIS coach’s welcome and organizational meeting (talk about intimidating…) The trip was a blast and a time I will never forget the time with Nick.
