Here are some photos from our archives from 1961of the annual ski jumping event in Salisbury (in the northwest corner of Connecticut), held in February.
The ski jumping continues today although the old, wooden ski jump was recently replaced by a shiny new metal one. And the wool sweaters and leather gloves have been replaced by "performance" materials, inevitably visually dramatic. Snow making machines often enough replace Mother Nature. And even skiing goggles will increasingly be augmented with heads up displays for the skiers showing altitude, wind-conditions, ranking, Twitter feeds, and what nearby restaurants still have open tables.
So yes, Plutarch's Ship of Theseus comes to mind. If you have replaced the handle of your grandfather's axe twice, and its head four times, is it still your grandfather's axe?
Many people have fond memories of downhill skiing. The week between Christmas and the start of the new year has traditionally been reserved for many families' pilgrimages
Skiing is a relatively new sport. But to some it has inverted from a meditative place to get away from the crazy of the rest of life to a breeding ground for a whole new kind of crazy.
(See also Reggie Darling's Nordic sweater post here.)