As published in the January 2025 edition of Apex Matters
Figuring out better ways to get around on the snow goes back at least 8,000 years. Nobody can say if Neanderthals were skiing 40,000 years ago, but I’d bet they figured something out. What we do have are archaeological finds that date back 8,000 years in peat bogs in Siberia, a 7,000-year-old rock carving in Norway, and a few summers ago a well-preserved 1,300-year-old ski, complete with binding, was uncovered when a melting glacier retreated.
From these ancient beginnings, skiing evolved from a tool for survival into something much greater. It became a cultural touchstone, woven into myths and traditions that celebrated the ingenuity needed to thrive in winter’s harshest conditions. The Norse had the god of skiing and archery, Ullr, and the goddess of winter and mountains, Skaði. In Norse mythology, Ullr is often depicted gliding across snow with his bow in hand. Skaði, a huntress, represents the wild, snow-covered mountains. These deities weren’t just figures of legend—they symbolized the deep respect Nordic cultures had for the skills and tools that made life in winter possible.
I have an Ullr tattoo on my arm, but my speed is proof that this kind of worship doesn’t guarantee success. Maybe I should sacrifice some old skis to the bonfire.
For the Sami people, who have long thrived in the Arctic and sub-Arctic regions, skiing was and is an essential part of life. They developed specialized skis for hunting and reindeer herding – one long ski for gliding and a shorter, fur-covered ski for grip. The Sami word for skiing, čuoigat, reflects this ancient mastery. Far from a recreational pastime, čuoigat embodies the practicality and ingenuity of skiing, which was vital for survival in the harsh Arctic conditions. It wasn’t just a method of transport but a defining aspect of Sami identity, deeply tied to their environment and traditions. Even today, skiing remains a cultural hallmark for the Sami, blending tradition with practicality.
In 1206, during Norway’s civil war, two Birkebeiner warriors, Torstein Skevla and Skjervald Skrukka, undertook a perilous journey to protect the infant Prince Haakon Haakonsson from rival factions. They covered about 54 kilometers through rugged, snow-covered terrain from Lillehammer to safety in Trondheim. This arduous trek is commemorated annually by the Birkebeinerrennet ski race, where over 7000 participants carry a 3.5 kg backpack, symbolizing the weight of the young prince. Good thing that wasn’t our 5 kg baby Erik, who knows if they would have made it.
In the Altai Mountains of Siberia, indigenous groups such as the Tuvans have utilized skiing for millennia, primarily as a means of hunting and transportation across snowy terrains. Archaeological evidence, including ancient cave paintings, depicts figures on skis pursuing game, suggesting that skiing was integral to their subsistence strategies. Traditional Altai skis were crafted from wood and often covered with horsehide to enhance traction, enabling effective movement through deep snow. Those fur-covered wooden skis were the original traction skins – technology that’s still in use today, though ours are a little sleeker. This practice not only facilitated hunting but also fostered a rich cultural heritage centered around skiing, which persists in some communities today.
Over time, skiing’s purpose expanded from survival to recreation. By the 19th century, it became a celebrated sport, with organized races and leisure skiing taking root in Europe and spreading to North America. Every time we glide through snowy forests or climb hills on skis, we’re continuing a tradition that goes back thousands of years. It’s a tradition born out of ingenuity and shaped by the need to survive in harsh, frozen landscapes. Skiing today isn’t just about survival or sport. It’s also about that deep, soul-satisfying connection to nature and ourselves.
Jens Petersen
Recent Comments