Scared Happy

At this time of year I often look through old pictures and day books to remind me of all the happiness from the past. This year I came across a short memo in my book about one of the most challenging of my adventures.

Fifty six years ago I was living in Temiskaming, Quebec, I was principal of a private school owned by International Pulp and Paper Co. The small isolated town had a population of people from many countries but the most active skiing folk were from Norway and Sweden. One of my teachers was married to a ski jumping champion who took it on to himself to get me in the winter sport of flying as they called it.

The town had a jumping area with three hills. One was a teaching hill, the second was a 40 meter hill and the largest of the three was a 60 meter hill. These hills are small in comparison to the hills of today but seemed quite big to me at the time.

Ollie outfitted me with a set of jumping boards and took me to the learning hill. We went through the ground training and just how I was to hold my head, arms and feet at the beginning of the jump right through to the landing. After closing my eyes and visualizing the jump I found myself at the top of the learning hill. There is nothing to it Henry, just do as we practised.

I looked down the run which was two narrow indentations in the snow to the end of a ramp and then nothing but a drop to the snow below. I was scared but confident I would be OK. Down I went and as planned I ended at the bottom in a few seconds. I was amazed that I did not fall or somehow mess up my first jump. That day I  repeated the effort several times and fell a few times but it was fun. Ollie said the second lesson was tomorrow.

Sunday morning I was off to the ski hill again and Ollie gave me similar instructions as the first day except I was jumping off the 40 meter hill. Ollie pointed to a series of steps to take me to the top of the hill and accompanied me. The climb was scary enough because there were no handrails an it became an open platform. The wind was cold and strong and I was weak and nervous.

Ollie tied my skiis to my boots and helped me up. Look down he said and close your eyes and think of what you have to do. I did and all seemed well. But I had to open my eyes and what a shock. The ramp looked huge and the drop at the end was scary. Ready Henry..go...I was off and all I could think of was his instructions. Before I could think I was at the end of the ramp and flying into open space. What a thrill, what an experience, I was really flying but before I knew it I was hitting the snow and tumbling over and over to the great joy of all watching.

Great first jump one person said and get up and go again. I did and I was hooked on ski jumping or flying as Ollie used to say. After that I was on the hill every chance I got and graduated to the 60 meter hill where the thrill was even greater. I never became a great jumper and never won a contest but I competed and eventually became confident enough to tackle larger hills.

I broke my right leg a short time after and a second time after that in freak accidents. I was married to a wife and job and could not afford to be injured again. I retired after about 50 jumps but realized that Ollie gave me the opportunity to face my fears and do something new and challenging. I have been afraid of several things in my life but my experience ski jumping made these fears seem small in comparison to standing at the top of a ski hill , ready to plunge down and fly free as a bird. I learned to be scared happy.