Sticks, Skis, and Skaði: A Philology Digression

With the beginning of winter encroaching off the mountains, I thought I’d dive into a [brief] philological inquiry into skis. People may be aware of Skaði, the erstwhile wife of Njorðr and, eventually, Óðinn. She often appears in art on skis and armed with a bow. In popular thought, she is also popularly referred to as the Norse goddess of winter, skis, and/or snow (as much as any deity in Norse mythology actually represents individual abstract concepts such as winter). She appears briefly in Eddic material, perhaps most famously in the brief account of her marriage to Njorðr in the Prose Edda.

Interestingly she may also appear in Völsunga saga and Völsungs rímur though not denoted as such. At the beginning of Völsunga saga, Skaði is presented as a rich man whose slave Sigi, Óðinn´s son, kills after a hunting expedition. In Völsungs rímur, Skaði is presented as a rich woman and master of the slave whom Sigi kills. In both the saga and rímur Sigi kills the slave and stuffs the body into a snowdrift. The tale is given as the reason large snowdrifts are called Breði (the name of the slave). This link between the snowdrift, Skaði, and Sigi (and therefore Óðinn) is tantalizing, in that it may point to some lost story or myth surrounding Skaði and her relationship to her eventual husband, Óðinn. It may relate to previous version where Skaði played a similar role as a giant and dís and was eventually “down-graded” to a mortal.

Her brief marriage to Njorðr appears in the Prose Edda. In the story, Skaði, the daughter of the giant Þjazi, famously grabs her helmet, byrnie, and all her weapons and heads to Ásgarðr to avenge the death of her father and the hand of Þórr. The Æsir offer her compensation for her father´s death by allowing her to marry one of them. The only condition is that she must choose only by looking at their feet. She chooses a beautiful pair of feet, thinking that they belong to Baldr, the most handsome of the Æsir. Unfortunately she´s chosen Njorðr, the god of the sea. The newlyweds decide that they will live in Njorðr´s home for nine nights and then switch to Þrymheimr, Skaði´s home, for nine nights. Njorðr cannot stand the howling of the wolves in the mountains and Skaði cannot sleep by the sea with the constant bleating of birds. The two separate, each dwelling where they are most comfortable. The narrator then makes a brief aside, stating that Skaði skis and hunts across the mountains and is called Öndurdís or Öndurguð. The -dís part of the name relates to the dísir, feminine beings or goddesses often associated with households or families and is often found in compound names for women. Guð likewise is for a god or deity. The öndur part is often translated as ski or snowshoe. But what is an öndur and what is its relation to our word ski?

Our English word ski comes from the Old Norse skíð which itself is derived from the Proto-Indo-European word skīdą, a stick or board. The word skīdą is a noun derived from the verbal root skey, to split (other English words from this same root include skew, shed, and science). A ski then is a split board or piece of wood. What about öndur (or more correctly, ǫndurr)? The word comes from a Proto-Germanic word, *andura, meaning a snowshoe or short ski. Ultimately it is derived from the Proto-Indo-European root *h₁endʰ, which means to go. Eventually the word developed from PIE to mean to go fast, ski, or wander. But why are these two words used separately? Why is one just skis and the other used for both snow-shoes and skis? Ultimately it comes to the history of skis.

The earliest accounts of skiing often described two long planks bound about ones feet (skis) and accompanied by a stick, often with a small, circlet of wood or hide at the base. This small walking stick was used by the skier to maneuver and push off from the snow. The small circlet of wood or hide at the base helped it remain on top of the snow. When heading downhill, the skier would place the stick off to the side or between his legs and use it as a rudder. In the saga of St. Olaf, a man named Arnljot is described skiing in this way:

“He put on some skis, which were long and broad, but as soon as he drove his stick into the snow, he found himself far ahead. He waited for the others and when they caught up with him, he said that this would get them nowhere. So he told them to stand on his skis behind him. They did so… Then Arnljot set off as fast as if he had been alone.” (Heimskringla)

At the same time as this skiing style, other groups used one long ski and one shorter one. The longer ski was used for balance and gliding while the shorter ski was lined with fur and was used to grip the snow and to kick off. In Two Planks and a Passion, a history of skiing, by Roland Huntford, he describes this method:

“Technically, the ski meant only the longer, smooth-sliding one of the unequal pair. The shorter one, which gave the kick-off, was called andor, with slight variations in the Scandinavian languages. It was usually lined with fir…”

This “loping gait” while initially awkward was ideally suited for hunting in complex terrain, dense forests, as well as both skiing downhill and hunting and hauling game. The shorter ski was then essentially an isolated snowshoe. The combination of one ski stick, one longer gliding ski, and a stable, kick-off ski was useful for hunting and gave flexibility while using weapons. All this would be ideal for a goddess who hunts among the mountain forests, although it presents a slightly different image of the graceful woman on long, alpine skis which is often presented in artwork.