Ah, the rise and fall of tele skiing (“RIP Tele Skiing,” 45.6). I first viewed the tele technique in 1977 at Yosemite, strong young Turks on pure touring gear ripping moguls at Badger Pass. Soft shoes, straight skis, all style. Later in Tahoe, Dennis Dunne was in fringe leather, doing telemark ballet at Northstar. Skis sprouted metal edges, people Frankensteined Scott plastic uppers to their leather bottoms, and the parallelamark turn was born. But if you couldn’t drive in the shoe you skied in, you weren’t tele—you were downhill. Gaiters, gorp, the Grateful Dead, weed, Alpine Meadows, screw Squallywood. I took my telemarks to Zermatt, got kicked out, came back, did Valle Blanche. But as the gear evolved—boots, skis, and bindings, alike—more and more toward their alpine counterparts, the distinction…
