THE CLUB HOUSE.SNOWSHOEING IN CANUCKIA.
THE CLUB HOUSE.
THE CLUB HOUSE.
BY JAMES C. ALLAN.
T
SNOWSHOEING is surely one of the most fascinating of sports. To the uninitiated it might appear strange that there should be any pleasure in ambling along over the snow in a manner somewhat resembling the ungraceful waddle of that unornamental bird, the domestic duck, and with feet hampered by the weight and the inconvenient form of a pair of ungainly snowshoes, so-called.
To a certain extent our captious critic would be right; the source of enjoyment is to be found in the accessories of the sport, and in the knowledge that under him are many feet of yielding snow, in which he would be helplessly floundering but for the aid of his trustyraquettes.
Then there is the peculiar indefinable charm of the winter scenery, the beautiful effects of the sunset on the dazzling expanse of snow, scenic effects perhaps even more entrancing when the pale moonlight casts ghostly shadows here and there, and brings into brilliant prominence some snow-crowned elevation in the landscape. I cannot do better than quote the glowing description which a noted American writer gives of the appearance of the country over which he tramped on one of his first excursions on “the merry snowshoe”:
“The mountain rose up behind us, covered with snow. Away toward the declining sun the landscape spread as far as the eye could reach, with low white hills away off on the horizon. Between the hills and the foreground flowed the river under its cover of ice. The red, wintry sun now low in the heavens, touched the prominent points of the rolling, snow-covered country with crimson, while the far-off clouds that stood motionless in the sky were of all the hues of the rainbow, and these varied tints were in turn faintly reflected on the broad expanse of spotless snow.”
The snow, let it be borne in mind, is not of the nature or consistency of that whichfalls in softer climes; it is so fine, so dry and loose as much to resemble flour, only infinitely whiter, and of dazzling purity.
MR. J. G. ROSS, CHAMPION SNOWSHOE RUNNER, CANADA.
MR. J. G. ROSS, CHAMPION SNOWSHOE RUNNER, CANADA.
As many of my readers very probably have never seen a snowshoe, a short description of its form and construction may not be amiss. It consists, broadly speaking, of a framework composed of a long, narrow piece of hickory wood, over which is stretched a network of thongs, or cords, made sometimes of strips of deerskin dried and prepared in a peculiar manner, and sometimes made of the intestines of animals. This network is called the “gut.” The hickory rod of which the frame is to be made, after having been steamed and steeped in boiling water, and so rendered pliable, is placed edgewise and then bent round somewhat in the shape of a tennis-bat, with an oval-shaped front, and the two ends joined together at one extremity and tapering off to a point corresponding to the handle of the tennis-bat. The total length of the shoe is about three feet, the extreme width from thirteen to sixteen inches. Across the oval and fitted into the inside of the framework by mortises, are two bars or battens of wood, each of them five or six inches clear of either end. In front of that cross-bar nearest the fore part of the shoe is an open space, and over the bar a deerskin thong is fastened, forming an aperture for the reception of the great toe. The thong is then crossed over the top of the foot, passed around the ankle once or twice and then tied. This leaves the heel free to move in any direction; the toe works in and out of the opening in the shoe, and in lifting the shoe in making a step forward its weight rests on the toe. When placing the foot down again the toe touches the snow first. Occasionally the framework is adorned with tufts of many-colored wool.
The size and shape of the snowshoe varies according to the requirements or the taste of its owner. Some are nearly round and present a squat appearance; others again are long and narrow, and resemble somewhat in shape the Norwegianski.
For a tramp over untrodden or “virgin” snow, of course a large shoe of considerable area is desirable; for racing purposes over a beaten track, a smaller shoe is used. The regulation width of a pair of racing shoes is not less than ten inches of gut; the weight, including strings, must not be less than one and a half pounds.
The Indians and the half-breeds seem to enjoy a monopoly of the manufacture of snowshoes, and of toboggans as well.
The snowshoe enabled them, in former days, to traverse with ease, when in pursuit of game or on the warpath, leagues of wilderness otherwise impassable in the winter season; the toboggan they used as a sledge on which to drag their provisions or to convey to camp their slaughtered game.
It is true that there is in use in Norway an implement somewhat similar to the American snowshoe, called a “ski,” and composed of a couple of long, narrow slabs of wood, one for each foot, painted and turned upward at both ends. The ski, however, is principally used for sliding down declivities and jumping crevasses; it is ungainly and awkward to use on level ground. The aid of a staff, or alpenstock, is necessary in skiing, and a description of it hardly comes within our province.
“Raquettes” was the name originally given by the hardy Canadiancoureurs du boisand thevoyageursof the Hudson Bay Company to the snowshoe, and we can easily imagine of what inestimable value it must have been to these adventurous individuals in their trips of almost incredible length, difficulty and peril. To the present day hardly a farmhouse in all broad Canada is without its pair of snowshoes, and they are generally of the sturdy, old-fashioned kind, long and broad and substantial.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
HOMEWARD BOUND.
In hunting the moose and the caribou, in the wilder parts of the Dominion, the snowshoe plays an important part. The crust on top of the snow is insufficient to sustain the weight of these heavy animals; they break through it at every stride, its sharp edges lacerate their legs, and the hunter can follow their course guided by the blood-marks on the snow. Sustained by his trusty shoes, he soon overtakes the laboring game, and a well-directed shot puts it out of misery.
But it is in its aspect as a sport, as a means of healthful recreation, that we have principally to consider snowshoeing. Of late years many clubs have been formed all over Canada, and in those parts of the neighboring Republic favored with the slightest suspicion of the “beautiful,” and of all these the premier, in point of seniority, is the Montreal Club, founded in 1840, and composed originally of twelve members.
As Canada is the home of snowshoeing, so is Montreal,par excellence, the leading city of Canada in this branch of athletics, both on account of the severity and the long duration of its winters, the natural advantages possessed by the city as regards its situation, and the widespread devotion among its young men to sports in general.
And of all the hardy winter sports snowshoeing is easily the first. Tobogganing and skating rise in public estimation and decline, but snowshoeing, like Tennyson’s “Brook,” “goes on forever,” and is continually gaining ground, as any one whohas been so fortunate as to witness one of those unique winter carnivals in Montreal, and to gaze upon the hosts of picturesquely clad athletic young “knights of the shoe” in their attack upon the marvelously beautiful ice castle may well believe.
Old Time Rendezvous.
In place of the one solitary club of twelve members in existence in 1840, Montreal may now boast of dozens. The old Tuque Bleue Club,aliasthe Montreal, has now a membership of 2,000. The St. George has, perhaps, half that number; other principal organizations are the Emerald, Argyle, Le Trappeur, Le Canadien, St. Charles, Maple Leaf, Wolseley, Vandalia, Royal Scots, etc., while other Canadian cities are not far behind.
Toronto, Ottawa, Quebec, St. Hyacinthe, Winnipeg, Brandor, Souris and Portage la Prairie have all sent their representatives to the Montreal Ice Carnivals, and now St. Paul and Minneapolis, those twin cities of the American Northwest, have caught the fever and are enthusiastic in their emulation of their Canadian brethren.
A snowshoe club is organized in much the same manner as other athletic associations. It has its president, vice-president, secretary, treasurer, and last, but by no means least, its entertainment committee, whose pleasing duty it is to provide amusement for their fellow-members at the club rendezvous when half the tramp is over and the “boys” are resting previous to their return home.
The costume of the snowshoer is at once comfortable, singularly well adaptedto its purpose, and picturesque in the extreme. The head is protected by a gaudy knitted woolen cap, with brilliant tassel, and is called atuque, in the Norman French of the Canadian habitant, who used it first of all. Then there is a coat with capote, and knickerbockers made usually of white blankets with many-hued border. Of late years, however, colored blankets have come into favor and bid fair to rival the white in popularity. Around the waist the coat is drawn together by a sash; colored stockings and deerskin moccasins, and, of course, snowshoes, complete the costume. Each club is distinguished by some peculiarity in the uniform of its members; for example, the Montreal club affects a bluetuque, red sash and red stockings; the Knights of St. George, or the “Saints,” as they somewhat arrogantly style themselves, a purpletuquewith white stripes, purple sash, and stockings of Tyrian hue also. So with the other clubs.
Rendezvous of To-day.
An entire outfit, including complete costume and snowshoes, may be procured for less than twenty-five dollars, and the suit under ordinary circumstances will outlast several winters. Some of the boys who have plenty of cash, or better opportunities of obtaining the articles than the rest, invest in buckskin hunting shirts and fringed leggings. They are made by Indians and half-breeds in Manitoba and the Northwest, and are, of course, more expensive than the blanket suits.
In Montreal it is usual for each club to tramp out on one evening in each week, and to take a more extended tour across country on Saturday afternoons.
On the evening appointed for the tramp the boys meet at their club-rooms; shoes are strapped on, the president leads the way, the members follow in Indian file, and the whipper-in brings up the rear to give the novice or the lazy a lift, and off they go. Let us suppose we are taking the route usual for evening tramps, partially around and up over a spur of Mount Royal, thence across country for about a mile and a half to our rendezvous. The pace increases, and, excepting an occasionalnip at one’s ears, Jack Frost is forgotten as we warm to our work. “Number off,” cries the president. “No. 1, No. 2,” and so on, until the whipper-in responds, “No. 60; all up.”
What a pretty picture the long line of ghost-like shadows makes, as it silently winds in and out in the light of the moon! Now they disappear from view for a moment or so as they plunge through brushwood; they race down gullies, clamber over fences and mount hills, until at last the goal of their desire is reached at mine host Lumpkin’s, or at the Athletic Club-house, where, after enjoying the programme provided by the committee, and perhaps refreshing the inner man, we take up our homeward march, and, our starting-point attained, separate for another week, or until the following Saturday afternoon.
It is a popular though erroneous idea among the uninitiated that snowshoeing in the night is done by torchlight. Torches are never used. This notion probably owes its birth to the fact that at the various carnivals snowshoers have used torches, purely, however, for effect, and rather against their will.
A new member of the club or a distinguished visitor is generally welcomed by his future comrades or his hosts by “bouncing” him. The victim is seized by as many as can lay hold of him and is unceremoniously flung skyward, or, more correctly, ceiling-ward, and on his descent from on high he is caught again and the ceremony repeated two or three times. He is not allowed to fall, however. He suffers only in his wind and perhaps his nerves.
In snowshoeing the fatigue and consequent stiffness are great at first, but with practice this soon wears off, and the motions become easy and rapid. Of course, it is hardly possible to travel on snowshoes as rapidly as afoot on dry ground, yet, nevertheless, the speed obtained is not inconsiderable, as the records of snowshoe racing will show. For the various distances these are as follows:
Min.
Sec.
100
yards,
12
220
“
26
440
“
1
08
½
mile,
2
33
1
“
5
42½
2
“
11
52¾
3
“
20
18½
5
“
33
43
Mount Royal Steeplechase, distance about 2 miles, 500 yards, 17m. 20s.
The last record, as well as others, is held by Mr. James G. Ross, perhaps the fastest all-round amateur who ever buckled on the “raquette.”
It is not an uncommon thing, however, for clubs to traverse thirty, and even eighty, miles across country in a tramp. A tramp from Montreal to St. John’s is a regular annual event with the Tuque Bleues.
I will conclude by quoting the words of a well-known litterateur, who had been induced by the genial president of a certain club to come out for a tramp with his club:
“Thus briefly was I brought to know that our winter sports are a means of health and good spirits to all who take part in them. They quicken the circulation, clear the brain and lighten the heart. No such good is got out of the formal drill of a gymnasium as there is out of a snowshoe tramp or a toboggan slide, under the broad sky with pleasant companionship. Men with kinky spines, sluggish livers and narrow chests—get blanket suits, moccasins and snowshoes, and use them soon and often. They will dispel your pains and aches and gloomy views of life.”
End of Article