Skis are not strong enough

“I break my skis because I ski too hard” is something of a humblebrag, but frankly it’s getting expensive and annoying! There are many ways that you can break skis, as I have documented in my ski equipment I have killed page, that are not specifically to do with skiing technique – delaminating tails for example is often caused by banging them on the ground to dislodge snow before you stick them in your car. What I’m talking about here though is definitely a consequence of how I ski. So let’s talk about cornering.

Modern “parabolic” skis have a sidecut, where the tip and tail are wider than the middle, and there’s a curve between them down the length of each side of the ski. If you tilt a ski to one side, it will rest on the edges at the tip and tail, and the middle will be lifted off the ground. If you then apply force to the middle of the ski (by standing on it), the ski will bend until the middle of the ski touches the ground. The ski will then be bent along its length, and where the edge meets the ground it will form a curve, which is roughly a segment of a circle, and when the edge runs along the ground along this curve, the ski will turn. The more sidecut, the more force, the more flex of the ski, the shorter the radius of the circle, and consequently the tighter the turn you can do. This happens particularly when you do a kind of skiing known as carving introduced in the early 1990s, which is in contrast to the technique that preceded it known as parallel, which is more or less skidding. A key difference between the two is that when carving a turn, the ski doesn’t move sideways (much) relative to the ground. This makes carving smooth, quiet, stable, and also preserves speed through the turns, but it puts a lot more force on the edges – I’ve measured myself (75kg + kit) pulling 3.5g in corners, and that makes for a lot of pressure on those edges. Skidding is still useful, especially for losing speed, stopping, performing very abrupt manoeuvres, or in confined spaces like couloirs or lift queues.

Here’s a pic of me carving on the exact skis I talk about below:

A ski is typically constructed from a sandwich of layers of different materials chosen for strength, stiffness, vibration absorbing, water resistance, and so on. It might look something like this in cross-section:

A cross-section of a ski

This is only a rough idea, and the structure varies widely, but however the ski is constructed, the edges (which provide grip on hard, icy surfaces) are usually the same: a square steel section with a flange that extends into the body of the ski – the little red bits in the diagram above. Steel is strong, hard, but not very flexible, so edges are thin, around 2-3mm square in section, with the flange extending perhaps 10mm into the ski. The flange is segmented so that it remains well-anchored within the ski structure without adversely affecting the flex of the ski. These are bare edges, before being built into skis:

When the ski turns, it’s put on its edge and force applied. This results in a strong torsional force on the edge:

I had a few goes at using AI chats to figure out exactly how much torque is applied, and it’s quite tricky, however, for a 75kg skier (me) exerting 3g of lateral acceleration (that’s pretty hard!), it apparently works out at around 5Nm of steady-state torque, which is about what you can do by hand with a screwdriver. It doesn’t sound much, but that edge is really quite small, that’s a fair amount of torque, and in reality, it will be changing very rapidly, with peaks well above that value. All that force, applied repeatedly over many ski days, leads to this:

Here the torque acting on the edge has caused it to rotate out of the structure of the ski, partly levering the base away from the ski core. Here’s what it looks like on a real ski (my beloved Elan Wingman 82 prototypes, just 2 years old):

You can just make out the segmented flanges inside the crack. If you look across the width of the ski, you can see that the base is raised on one side, and the base material sits proud of the steel edge, when it should be flush. The time you’re most likely to spot this is when waxing your skis, and before you see cracks forming, you might see the base developing bulges or ridges, usually just ahead of the bindings on the inside edges, where the most stress occurs during turns.

This condition is somewhat dangerous because the edge is no longer firmly attached to the structure of the ski, and a gap between edge and base can open up, making it more likely to catch on a rock and completely tear the edge out of the ski; not good if you’re going fast at the time. Water can also get into the crack and damage the ski core, by frost cracking, mould, rust, etc.

This is quite different to the kind of damage that can occur when you hit a rock, as I did on my Salomon Q105s a couple of years ago:

This cracked the edge, and impacted the ski body, but only over a very short length, and there was no base bulging, but this was also fatal damage and the skis were unsafe to ski on.

So what’s the problem? Skiing is a very dynamic activity that’s tough on equipment, so shouldn’t we expect skis to wear out? Not so much. Skis will break in extreme circumstances like hitting rocks, but when using them exactly as intended, I don’t expect them to simply lose structural integrity, and they should last for many years. Also I wouldn’t mind so much if this was a one-off, but this is the 5th pair of skis that I’ve done this to, and it’s getting expensive! These are the skis I’ve done this to so far – multiple manufacturers across several years, so it’s not like I’m suffering from a bad batch!

  • Rossignol Scratch BC
  • Volkl AC50 Unlimited
  • Fischer RC4 slalom skis
  • Dynastar Cham 97 freeride skis
  • Elan Wingman 82 prototypes

So please, dear ski manufacturers, make your skis stronger! If you ask me nicely, I’ll help you test them (maybe to destruction)!

Ode to a ski pole

My 125cm ICE Lightning carbon graphite ski poles get an honourable mention on my “ski equipment I have killed” page, praising the fact that I have failed to kill them, and I thought I’d expand on why I like them.

My ski poles, standing up, stuck in the snow

Ski poles are one of those things you don’t tend to think about much, until you break or lose one, and you find yourself feeling rather lost and annoyed. Poles are vital for balance and propulsion on the flat. Back in the pre-carving days, they were important for timing too, something that still applies a bit in powder and bumps.

“The best ski poles ever made”

Unofficial Gear Review

These poles were made in the USA by ICE Composites, based in Park City, Utah, who no longer seem to exist, though they could have morphed into this ICE Composites. I bought them in Vail, Colorado in 1998 during a very nice 10-day Christmas ski trip with my wife. Prior to these I’d had many other pairs of aluminium poles, all of which had failed in some way. Aluminium poles are light and flexy, and usually die by being bent near the middle, then break when you try to bend them back, because aluminium just doesn’t like that. They’re also prone to being sliced off by ski edges just above the basket.

The reason these poles have lasted so long is that they are made of carbon fibre. Carbon fibre is associated with super-lightweight ski touring and race equipment, which is often very high performance, but also not very strong because all the extra strength the carbon gives is traded against weight. These poles take a different approach: they are not light, but they are very stiff and incredibly strong, still solid and dead-straight after 25 years on the slopes.

The bottom of the pole just above the basket has a plastic sleeve to protect the thin bottom section from damage by sharp steel ski edges.

The handles are pretty unremarkable – a softish, grey, rubbery material. The straps are nice and strong, and very firmly attached (straps rarely break, but their attachment to the pole often does). My only complaint here is that the exit of the strap from the pole is vertical rather than horizontal, which means that the strap doesn’t sit flat against your palm.

That white bit below the handle is a bit of Sugru I used to increase the diameter of the pole from the standard 18mm to 22mm. Why do that? Because that’s the standard size for bicycle handlebars, and I use it for mounting a bike light for night expeditions! Pole-mounting a light is generally better for night skiing than a head torch, because with a head torch the light source is very close to your line of sight, so you get no shadows to see surface relief and texture. The offset position on the pole means that it casts useful shadows, and also means you don’t shine your light in friends’ eyes when you’re talking to them… This can also be used as a camera mount, but hopefully you’ve seen that there are better ways of mounting cameras.

I’m not the first to wax lyrical about these poles – back in 2012, Unofficial Gear Review described these as “the best ski poles ever made”, and I’m not going to argue!

I’ve used these poles for about 800 days of skiing, and they have accumulated a few scars, but they’re so strong that they’re still as solid as ever.

Even carbon fibre isn’t indestructible

One thing that has become a bit annoying is that the tips are wearing out. These are made of hardened steel with a kind of crown shape, however, the points wear down on rocks and ice, and lose grip, something that’s especially annoying in lift queues and icy conditions. I have tried to resurrect them by reshaping the crown shape using a Dremel-like tool, but I’d really like to replace them with more pointy race-type cylindrical tips.

I’ve had about 4 sets of baskets, as they just wear out; I tend to go for medium size ones.

Nobody seems to make bombproof poles like this any more, so I’ll just have to make these last another 800 ski days…