“SHE LIES”From the Drawing by Fleming Williams
“SHE LIES”From the Drawing by Fleming Williams
“SHE LIES”
From the Drawing by Fleming Williams
wide of the left-hand stone of those two guards, by which the temporary skip is holding his besom. For one moment he watches its passage, eyes glued to it, stricken to stone. Suddenly an awful misgiving occurs to him, his face turns to a perfect mask of agonised fury, and he yells at the top of a naturally powerful voice:
“Sweep her, don’t leave her for a moment. Sweep! Sweep! Don’t leave her. Good Lord, can’t you sweep? Oh, well swept, well swept indeed!”
Then probably with infernal superiority he shouts, “Is that about where you wanted it?” knowing perfectly well that it is.
All this means that
(i) He was afraid he had put down his stone too weakly, and that it would not get over the hog.(ii) It would then be ignominiously removed, and he would wish he had never been born.(iii) The opposing skip would sail through that port, and out the winning stone.(iv) That it is all his fault, and that he will never curl again, but take to that degraded pastime, skating.(v) Finally, that his stone has been swept over the hog and lies now bang in the middle of the passage, closing it completely—a perfect gem, pearl, peach.
(i) He was afraid he had put down his stone too weakly, and that it would not get over the hog.
(ii) It would then be ignominiously removed, and he would wish he had never been born.
(iii) The opposing skip would sail through that port, and out the winning stone.
(iv) That it is all his fault, and that he will never curl again, but take to that degraded pastime, skating.
(v) Finally, that his stone has been swept over the hog and lies now bang in the middle of the passage, closing it completely—a perfect gem, pearl, peach.
Says the other skip grimly, “You’ve got some good sweepers on your side.”
Says the first skip (airily and forgetting that he has been howling to his side to sweep), “Oh, it had lots of legs.” (Liar: it is just over the hog.)
Ensues a shouted colloquy between the other skip and his lieutenant (No. 3) in the house.
No. 3. Can you see anything of the port?
Skip 2. No.
No. 3. Can you see anything of the stone that lies?
Skip 2. No.
(Skip 1 here probably lights a pipe and talks gaily to a friend.)
No. 3. Can you get round their guard with out-handle?
Skip 2. No.
No. 3. Can you get round the other guard with in-handle?
Skip 2. No.
(Long pause.)
Skip 2. Yes, I can. At least there’s nothing else to be done. No, give me more ice than that! (This means that he thinks his stone will take more curl, and wants the directing broom to be put wider.) That’s about right.
He plays his shot amid dead silence. It soon becomes apparent that his stone is not going to curl round this guard at all, but will hit it. It does so, and lies by its side, merely giving an additional rampart to the granite fortification in the middle of the ice. The silence becomes rather painful.
Skip 1. Bad luck! (He does not mean that at all.) I think I’ll try and get another stone in the house.
Skip 1’s No. 3. For heaven’s sake don’t disturb our stone here.
Skip 1. No, I’ll play it just tee high....
(He puts down a hopeless hog.)
Skip 1. I wish you fellows would sweep!
(His pipe goes out.)
Skip 2 shouting to his No. 3. Well?
No. 3. Well?
Skip 2. See what happens, I think. There’s nothing to play for.
This means he is going to play for a fluke. There is no reasonable chance whatever of reaching that stone on the tee, and a wild toboggan of a shot sent down among all those guards may do something, though heaven alone knows what. He puts down stone with full swing, most unevenly, so that it careers up the ice violently rocking. It hits the long guard by the hog, which is exactly what he didn’t want to do, almost full in the face, and sends it scudding off into the abominably bad stone he himself has just put down before. It hits this nearly full, and starts it on its way. Bang into the middle of the house it goes, sends that impregnable tee-lying stone flying, and lies there itself. The five other stones in the house are all on its side, and instead of Skip 1 scoring one, Skip 2, off an incredible, revolting, pitiable fluke, scores five. Roars of execration and applause rend the skies, and Skip 2 modestly remarks, “Well, there are more ways than one of playing any shot!”
Here, then, is a rough sketch of the game as it is played, as it appears to the spectator; and after this bird’s-eye glance at it it is time to start again at the beginning and see how to play it. And the first consideration is the stance which the player takes up on the crampit before delivering his stone. Here, as at golf, thereare great varieties of stance, all of which are perfectly right and proper, provided the curler can deliver his stone from them with effect. But, as at golf also, there are certain principles that will be found common to all those stances, and perhaps the most important of all is that the curler should feel perfectly comfortable and be maintaining his stance by balance andnotby muscular effort. In every case again (if he be right-handed) his right foot will be firmly resting against the rim at the back of the crampit, for it is there that he gets the purchase which enables him to give the needful velocity to his stone. Similarly, his left foot will be advanced, and he will be facing full in the direction in which he is about to send his stone, and his left foot will also be pointing in that direction. He will also be bending down, since he has not to drop or fling the stone on to the ice, but to place it—to lay it there smoothly with a forward swing of his arm and body. But any kind of divergence is proper as regards this stooping attitude: some men get their stone down to the ice by bending the body strongly above the hips, keeping the legs comparatively straight, while others get down by bending the knees so far that they are sitting on their right heel, and their right knee is absolutely touching the crampit. And all these styles are perfectly right provided only that (i) the player feels comfortable and unstrained; (ii) he can get his stone well down on to the ice; (iii) his head is facing and his eyes looking in the direction of his skip’s besom. All three of these provisions are essential to successful curling, and if one thing can be more essential than another, it is that the player should be looking straight at the skip’s besom.
Next comes the actual delivery of the stone, the handle of whichshould lie lightly in the crook of the fingers and not be grasped like a battle-axe. This delivery of the stone is accomplished not by a jerk, as if throwing it, but by a steady swing forward of the body and arm together. The whole arm of the hand which carries the stone is brought slowly and steadily back (as in the back swing of golf), while the weight is resting almost entirely on the right leg. Then arm and body come forward together, without muscular exertion and without pressing, and the stone is placed on the ice, while the weight of the whole body, which at the top of the swing was on the right leg, has come forward on to the left. Should the ice be slow, greater force is given to the stone by a longer swing, and should the ice be fast the swing is shortened. But in no case, if the ice is playable on at all, should the impetus be derived from a muscular effort of the arm as in throwing; but as in golf, the swing of the arm and body together give the stone its impetus. And throughout the swing the eyes of the curler must never leave the directing besom of his skip. It is as fatal to look away from that as it is to take the eye off the ball at golf.
Now, if the stone is put down like this, without jerk or exertion (except such as is entailed in the swing), the stone will be laid evenly, and will start on its course without wobbling, but sliding truly on its polished base. But if it has been jerked or chucked on to the ice instead of being laid there, the chances are ten to one that it will be what is called a “quacker”—i.e.it will be oscillating from one side to the other and rolling like a ship in a cross sea. This sort of stone is quite useless, and if quacking badly will go staggering right through the house without everhaving slid at all. Sometimes, if merely a very fast stone is wanted to break up a rampart of guards, or just “to see what will happen” in a hopeless position, a quacker is as good as anything else. But it is not curling.
Now there is a very important item in the swing at golf called the “follow-through.” This means that after the ball has been hit and is on its way, the club and the hands and arms holding it fly out after it, while the whole weight of the body goes on to the left foot. There is no question that what happens to the club and the arm and player generally, after the ball has gone, cannot make the least difference to the flight of the ball, but this “follow-through” is a symptom, an indication of what has already taken place, and if the follow-through is satisfactory and full it shows that the swing has been unchecked and smooth. Just in the same way the curler has to follow through, and though no doubt both curler and golfer can, theoretically, check their swing the moment after the stone and the ball have started, they would be most ill-advised to attempt to do so, since they run a grave risk of checking their swings before the stone or the ball have gone, and thus giving to their shot only a fraction of the force of the swing. So the curler is strongly advised to let this forward swing of his arm and body work itself out in the natural follow-through. And this follow-through may express itself in various ways. Most curlers express it by letting themselves run or slide a few steps after their stone, the forward swing of the body overbalancing their left foot, so that they instinctively (for fear they should fall down) put the right foot in front of it—in other words, take a few steps. Others again, and chiefly those who deliver the stone with right leg verystrongly bent, so that the knee touches or nearly touches the ice, have not time to scramble to their feet, and usually express their follow-through by falling forward on their hands on to the ice. But in whatever way they conduct themselves, this little run and slide which some take and the falling forward of others are the result of the player’s proper and correct follow-through. He has not, at any rate, interfered with or checked his swing: he has delivered his stone with the force that he believed to be required.
And now we come to the most delicate and interesting part of the delivery of the stone, namely, the question of “twist” or “elbow” or “handle,” as it is called, which is universally practised by all curlers. This “handle” gives a rotatory motion to the stone, so that as it is travelling up the ice it is also slowly revolving on its own axis, either from right to left or left to right, and this rotation imparts to it, as its initial velocity diminishes and its pace slows down, a curling movement, in the manner of a break from the off or a break from the leg at cricket, or, if you will, a swerve in the air, or, as in golf, of a pull or a slice. Thus, though a stone on the tee may be completely guarded and covered, the player can, by imparting this rotatory movement to his stone, curl round the guard and reach his goal. Moreover, he can curl round the straight guard from either side, from the leg or from the off, so that if one path is blocked by another guard, he may yet get access by the other. He can, too, if there is, as often happens, a slight bias in the ice, apply the handle opposite to the direction in which the bias of the ice would deflect his shot, and thus keep his stone straight. Or again, by aiding the bias by the other handle, he can get round a very wide obstacle indeed.Heaven knows that these shots so glibly recorded are not easy; but there is hardly a shot or a manœuvre in any game which is easy. But the man who aspires to be a curler at all must have a fair command of this thing called “handle.” He must be able to direct a shot with moderate accuracy on the skip’s besom with either out-handle or in-handle. It is not enough equipment for the most modest player, who is a curler at all, to be able to play with one handle only. He must have a tolerable command of both.
Now, strange as it may at first appear, it is far easier to send down a stone with in-handle or out-handle on it than to send down a perfectly straight stone with no handle at all. Furthermore, the slightest frozen chip of ice, or minutest fragment of broom may, in passing under one side of the stone, impart a fortuitous and rotatory motion to it, so that a stone arriving in the house with practically no curl at all upon it is (except in the case of a fast hard stone) a rarity. Since, then, it is almost bound to have some handle on it, it is wiser for the player to put on the handle himself intentionally and allow for its curling course. This rotatory motion of the stone is imparted to it by a very slight turn of the arm just before the stone leaves the hand. If the elbow is turned outwards, it is called “out-elbow” or “out-handle,” though I am inclined to think that it is the wrist which makes the turn (some people say the fingers alone), the elbow merely following the wrist. This gives the stone a twist from right to left, and the effect of it is that it curls in from the right in the manner of a ball bowled with leg-break. This out-handle curl is easily imparted to the stone by turning the handle of it, as the hand grasps it, outwards atright angles or thereabouts to the direction of the stone’s travelling, and by holding the handle “overhand,” as it were, with the knuckles and back of the hand facing the ice in front. The curl is then naturally imparted to it, and the player will not have to think about it at all. If he delivers his stone in this way his wrist, if he holds his arm slack, as he always should (giving the velocity to the stone only by the swing), will naturally and inevitably make the outward turn. And it is a most important thing that the player should not think of handle at all when he delivers his stone, but leave that to develop automatically from the correct delivery, since the consideration of the pace and direction of the stone are enough to fill the most capacious mind and tax the utmost of his skill. How much allowance should be made for the curl, and how much the stone should be aimed to the right of where it is desired that it should come to rest, is a matter which is largely left to the judgment of the skip, who has been observing how much curl the ice takes. This differs very considerably, and depends on the condition of the surface. For instance, if the ice is very slow, a stone dies quickly, and since the curl does not begin to take effect till the initial speed has very much diminished, it will not curl for so long as it would on keen ice. On slow ice, in other words, the course of the stone is less influenced by handle. But again, the vigorous polishing of the ice in front of a stone tends to keep it straight, since then the roughnesses of the ice, on which the rotatory motion bites, are much diminished. But as a rule, after a few stones have been sent down, it is clear to a good skip how much handle they are taking, and he directs accordingly.
The in-handle or in-elbow is produced in precisely the converse way to the out-handle, and the stone, instead of curling in from the right, curls in from the left like a ball with off-break on it or a slice at golf. Here the stone should be held with its handle pointing inwards towards the player, and he should hold it in the crook of his fingers with the inside of his hand instead of the back of it facing the direction in which he lays his stone. This grip, again, naturally gives the required twist, and he can concentrate himself on pace and direction. But often during the course of a match the character of the ice will change, and it will begin to take the handle more or less as the case may be. Both skip and individual players should be on the lookout for this, and the tactics should be altered accordingly. Hard ice—ceteris paribus—is the keener, and thus in the afternoon, when the rays of the sun shine less directly on to the rink, it tends to get faster and to take more curl. On the other hand, in the morning ice tends to get slower, as the sun plays on the surface of it.
All stones are polished differently on their two faces, one side of the stone being less inexorably smooth than the other. A stone travelling on the keen or smoother side naturally goes further starting at the same initial velocity than if travelling on the rough side, and should the ice be very keen and fast, it is difficult to estimate the strength which will take them over the hog, and yet not send them roaring through the house. But the handles of stones can be unscrewed in a very few seconds and fixed on the other side, so that the stones will now travel on their rough or slower side. Conversely, also, if the ice has been very fast, and a player has been using the rough side of his stones, he may even, during thecourse of the match, if the ice for some reason gets slower, reverse his stones and use the keen side. This will make it possible for him to play without effort, instead of “shifting” the stones along.
I am aware that in touching on the question of handle at all I do a thing that is provocative of discussion. There are many ways of putting on handle, and the adherents of any such will certainly maintain that their own method is the best if not the only proper one. But I think the majority of players will allow that the grip which I have mentioned, namely the overhand grip for imparting out-elbow and the underhand grip for imparting in-elbow, lead, more or less, provided only the arm is held slack, to the required result. But I freely allow there are many other methods: some curlers put on handle consciously, and consciously twist their arms as they deliver their stone, others trust to the slight adhesion of the little finger to the handle after the other fingers have quitted. But it seems to me that any grip whichautomaticallyimparts the desired handle is preferable to all grips which demand that the player should be obliged to think about his handle. He has enough to do without that, and enough to think about. So let him, if he finds these grips unsatisfactory, learn any grip under the sun (and over the ice) that naturally imparts the curl he wishes to put on.
A further question arises. Is it not possible to regulate the amount of handle and the consequent amount of curl that the stone will take? Without doubt it is; but the curler who can put on a great deal of handle or a little handle at will is not a person who can be instructed. Certainly it is possible to make one stone curl a little and another much, but he who can do thisand regulate it is not a first-class curler merely but a supreme curler. For us, duffers and strugglers, there is a simpler method, which is to aim the shotalwayswith the curl that we naturally impart to it, and take more or less “ice” as the case may be: aim it, that is to say, closer to the required resting-place for the stone if the ice is taking but little bias, and further from it if the ice is encouraging the deflection. The superior curler, in critical situations, it is true, when guards are spread about like the rocks in some dangerous archipelago, will make curves, as his stone is dying, which it would be madness for the ordinary decent player to attempt. But he will have made such curves by the conscious application of muscular force, sending the stone literally spinning down the ice. We admire, we applaud, I hope, even when he is on the other side, but unless we are more than first-rate at the game we will not try to imitate. Personally, I have a theory which concerns the thumb. Not for worlds would I divulge it for fear of encouraging disasters as bad as those that I myself perpetrate. All the same I am convinced it is right: I lack the skill to execute it....
But whatever the method of grip, whatever the curl to be imparted to the stone, the handle should be at rest in the crook of the fingers. To hold it tight implies muscular exertion, and muscular exertion, unless the object is to send a fast straight stone, the only requisite of which is great pace and moderate direction, is out of place at this delicate and “touchy” game. Even when the ice is very slow, better practice will be made with a longer and untightened swing than with momentum derived from the elbow and shoulder.
Finally, but no less importantly, with regard to sweeping. It is hardly too much to say that a good sweeper is almost worth his place in a side, even though he is an indifferent player, so tremendous is the part which a good sweeper plays, for he is like a good field at cricket. He should always start before the stone gets to him, so that by the time it is opposite him he is moving down the rink with it, ready to begin operations the moment his skip tells him. The word of command may come at any second, and it is often of vital importance that he should begin instantly. Even skips have errors of judgment, and the skip may have not given the order to sweep soon enough. This can often be rectified by instant and vigorous sweeping, and the error repaired, whereas if a sweeper is slow to go about his job the mistakes on the part of the skip may be irremediable. All down his allotted portion of the ice the good sweeper will sidle along by the travelling stone, even though no order comes, until he has given it into keeping of the next sweeper or of the skip himself. And with the same promptitude as he began to sweep must he stop sweeping when he hears the word “Up brooms!” Another yard of polish may, if the skip is correct in his estimate, be the death of a winner. Often again it is but a question of an inch or two to turn a hog into the most perfect of long guards, and this inch or two is entirely a matter of sweeping. The most moribund of travellers may be coaxed over the line and make an incalculable difference in the score by protecting a winner. But “a little less and what worlds away.”... A shot that good sweeping would have made into a gem is bundled off the ice like the worst stone ever sent down on its degraded handle.
Besides matches between teams there is a very searching affair to be played with curling-stones called a “points” competition. Here single players compete against each other in attempting to make certain shots which are set them. Stones are put on the ice in certain given positions, and each competitor in turn has to try to bring off a certain definite shot. For instance, he will have to guard one stone, to promote another, to get an inwick off a third, to draw a port between two others, &c. It is, of course, a very high test of skill, but is somewhat a Lenten or humiliating affair, since the very finest players seldom get as much as half-marks. It is, moreover, lacking in all the “team-feeling” which is one of the greatest charms in match play, and is also, in the present writer’s humble opinion, a terribly tedious affair, since after each shot, if the lying stones have been touched, they must be replaced on their marked spots, and a competition of this kind, if there is at all a large field, goes on rather longer than into eternity. According to the regulations drawn up by the Royal Caledonian Club there are nine shots to be played and a tenth is added in case of a tie. The necessary stones to play on to are placed in or around the house, and the competitor has then nine different shots to play.
These are—(i) striking; (ii) inwicking; (iii) drawing to the tee; (iv) guarding; (v) chap and lie (i.e.playing on to a stone on the tee, ejecting it, and remaining in the house); (vi) wick and curl in; (vii) raising; (viii) chipping the winner; (ix) drawing through a port. In case of a tie between competitors, those who are equal playfourshots of “outwicking.”
Different marks can be earned by each of these shots. Forinstance, if a competitor playing chap and lie remain in the seven-foot circle he scores one, if within the four-foot circle he scores two, given that he strikes the placed stone out of the house in both cases. Complete details are published by the Royal Caledonian Curling Club.
Plate XVIICURLING
Plate XVIICURLING
Plate XVII
CURLING
Plate XVIIICURLING AT MURREN
Plate XVIIICURLING AT MURREN
Plate XVIII
CURLING AT MURREN
Plate XIXTHE THREE KULM RINKS
Plate XIXTHE THREE KULM RINKS
Plate XIX
THE THREE KULM RINKS
Plate XXLADIES’ CURLING MATCH, ST. MORITZ
Plate XXLADIES’ CURLING MATCH, ST. MORITZ
Plate XX
LADIES’ CURLING MATCH, ST. MORITZ
Todescend an ice-run like the Cresta at St. Moritz is no doubt a most thrilling and skilled adventure, but the vast majority of people who say (with perfect truth) that they enjoy tobogganing would sooner think of ascending in an aeroplane than descending the Cresta, and would freeze with fright at the thought of embarking on it. On the other hand, the skilled Cresta runner would no more think that the quiet descent of snow-covered roads on a Swiss luge was tobogganing in his sense of the word, than the aeroplanist would allow that a man practising high jump was flying. From which we may rightly infer that there are various sorts of movement which are covered by the word tobogganing.
As a matter of fact there are, commonly practised in Switzerland, three broad and widely differing species of tobogganing. They are as follows:
(i) Proceeding—quickly or leisurely—down frozen roads or artificial snow-made runs.(ii) Proceeding—as quickly as possible—down artificial ice-runs.(iii) Bobsleighing (or bobbing)—as quickly as possible—down roads or artificial runs.
(i) Proceeding—quickly or leisurely—down frozen roads or artificial snow-made runs.
(ii) Proceeding—as quickly as possible—down artificial ice-runs.
(iii) Bobsleighing (or bobbing)—as quickly as possible—down roads or artificial runs.
The number of folk who practise the first of these immenselyoutnumbers those who practise the other two; for everybody in Switzerland in the winter is guilty of the first practice, from the small Swiss native, aged perhaps eight or under, who marches up to school with its books tied on to its luge, and gaily and jauntily returns home seated on it, steering and guiding with its ridiculous little feet, and shouting “Gare” or “Achtung,” according to the canton, up to the skilled racer on the skeleton who carries off the Symonds bowl in the race on the Klosters road at Davos. But all these, different as their performances are, are going on snow-runs. The snow may in places, it is true, where it has thawed and frozen again, intimately resemble ice. But the ice-run is different in kind from any snow-runs.
For ordinary travel, let us say from your hotel down to the rink, where there is no question of racing, but just getting there, the toboggan generally used is the Swiss toboggan or luge. It is a high wooden frame (high, that is, compared to the skeleton) with two runners shod with steel or iron, and you sit on it exactly as is most comfortable—it is never very comfortable—and tie your lunch and skates on to it, and push off. If you want to turn to the right, you put your right heel into the snow, or dab with your hand on the right side; if you want to go to the left, you perform the same operation in a sinister manner. If you want to stop, you put both heels into the snow. If you want to go quicker, you, while still sitting down, walk with both feet simultaneously. This sounds complicated; but it is quite clear the moment you feel you want to go quicker—it is done instinctively. Finally, if you are going fast, and must make a sudden stop,
“ACHTUNG!”From the Drawing by Fleming Williams
“ACHTUNG!”From the Drawing by Fleming Williams
“ACHTUNG!”
From the Drawing by Fleming Williams
owing to some obstacle in the shape of an old lady or a sleigh immediately in front of you, you turn into any convenient snowbank at the side of the road, and having picked yourself up, look injured, which physically you are not. Or, if there is no convenient snowbank, you fall off to one side or the other, and often observe your malicious luge proceeding calmly on its course without you. In fact, you do anything that occurs to you at the moment, except upset the old lady or charge the sleigh.
The foregoing is a complete compendium of all that it is necessary to know or do, when tobogganing on an ordinary road. It is as simple as walking and generally quicker. The same, in the main, applies to the use of luges on an artificially-made run. But every artificial run implies the idea of racing, and thus the object is to get down it as quickly as possible. But every artificial run has turns in it, and the idea is to get round these turns without capsize and with as little loss of speed as possible. The outside of these turns is therefore banked up (i.e.if the turn is to the right, the left side of the track is banked up, andvice versa), so that you do not (if you manage properly) run out of the track, but climb the bank and descend again into the track. But if you do not manage properly, one of three things will happen to you.
(i) You go over the bank and are heavily spilled. This is fatal if you want to win a race, unless everybody else does the same.
(ii) You upset on the bank. This is not necessarily so fatal, unless you entirely part company with your toboggan, which then finishes triumphantly without you.
(iii) In excess of caution, you diminish your speed so much before you get to the bank that you merely crawl round the bend. This is moderately fatal.
But we need not waste more time over artificial snow-runs. They are only a compendious form of road-running, and what is necessary in the way of steering and judgment of pace on them, is equally true with regard to such fine natural runs as the Klosters road. Here there are no artificial banks to keep the runner in his course. He has to get around the corners by judicious steering, and crawling when necessary, and, above all, by adjustment of weight. On the ordinary luge or Swiss toboggan there is little adjustment of weight that can be made, but it is a very different affair when you negotiate the same road on racing toboggans, namely skeletons, which are also used on ice-runs.
Here, instead of this little high wooden platform on which you sit, there is a very low framework supported on round steel runners, blunt nosed in front, and instead of sitting on it you lie on it, face downwards. The runners, sharply bent upwards in front, return and form the support of the low frame, and you grasp these with your hands, and lie down with arms bent or extended as required. But the cushion on which you recline moves backwards and forwards in the manner of a sliding seat, so that you can lie with legs right out behind the base of the machine, and can use great part of your weight, inclining it to one side or the other of the toboggan, in order to get it round curves. Similarly, the hands have an immense leverage behind them, and with one foot lying out behind and raking the snow, a curve can be made at high speed, which itwould be impossible to get round on a Swiss toboggan without heavy braking and great loss of velocity. When riding a skeleton, the toes of the boots are fitted with toothed irons, so that they can be used together as brakes, or singly, in order to make the toboggan curve in the required direction. The runners of these toboggans are not rectangular like those on luges, but of circular shape, thus producing the minimum of friction on their travelling surface. Even on snow-tracks these are capable of tremendous speed, though that speed does not approach what they compass on frozen ice-runs, where they travel almost frictionless.
Apart from the “storm and stress” of racing, there is a wonderful pleasure, if the track is smooth and trafficless, in this swift gliding over frozen snow, and one of the most romantic of experiences in all the gamut of motion is tobogganing by moonlight. Never will the writer forget one such night on the Klosters road. We had sleighed up from Davos, a party of friends, to Wolfgang, on one of those magical nights when no breath of wind stirred the lightest jewels of hoar-frost on the pines, when the moon was full, and the stars burned like diamonds aflame. All the way up, after dinner, there had been talk and laughter, and standing ready to go, we arranged that there should be two minutes’ pause between the despatch of the toboggans, and one by one we slid off into the unspeakable silence of the Alpine night. It so happened that I was the last to go, and for two minutes I waited at the head of the track in a stillness that is unimaginable. When I started there was in all probability not a living soul within halfa mile, and the nearest was sliding swiftly further away every moment. For a little way the track lay open to the full blaze of the zenithed moon, but soon it plunged beneath the impenetrable canopy of pines. It was possible to see the white glimmer of the road ahead, otherwise there was nothing visible. Then, with the suddenness of a curtain withdrawn, the blackness became a celestial and ineffable glory of close burning constellations, with the full disc of the moon shining imperially among them. Far below, distant and dim, I could see the lights of Klosters, and half-longed to reach them, in order to get out of this awful and burning and frozen solitude, half-longed that my travel might be lengthened into an eternity of wheeling stars and flying road. Sometimes it seemed that I was rushing headlong through space, sometimes it seemed that I was stopping absolutely still, and that it was this unreal world of trees and road and bridges and banks that hurled itself by me, and that the stars and I were the steadfast things. Once the sudden roar of a stream over the bridge of which I passed sounded loud and menacing, but in a moment that was past, and the hissing spray of frozen snow coming from the bows of my toboggan was the only sound audible. And then the lights of Klosters gleamed larger and nearer, and this wonderful swift solitude was over.
(As a matter of fact, I had an awful spill by the cabbage garden corner: but though that was very vivid at the time, there remains nothing of it, except the fact, in my memory. It would have been more romantic, but less realistic, not to have mentioned it.)
There is one Mecca: there is one St. Peter’s: there is one Cresta. As is Mecca to the Mohammedan, as is St. Peter’s to the Catholic, so is the Cresta run at St. Moritz to the tobogganer. It istheice-run. There may be others, and there certainly are, but what does the Cresta care? It has acachetwhich no other possesses.
The Cresta was first engineered, I believe, in the year 1884, and its chief architect was Herr Peter Badruth of St. Moritz. From that time onwards it has yearly been built up with as much thought and care as is lavished on a cathedral; every yard of it is staked out, and the angles, curves, and shaping of its banks and corners most accurately calculated. It is built up from the bottom upwards, so that the lower part of it can be used while the construction of the upper part is still going on, and the whole run is generally open not until after the middle of February. Every winter is this amazing architecture in crystal planned and carried out under the direction of Mr. W. H. Bulpett, who has for many years been chief architect.
To begin with, the snow is trampled down, after the manner of making the foundation of an ice-rink, so as to form a firm solid base, and where the banks are to be built snow is brought in sleigh-loads, shovelled on to it, and beaten down. More snow will then be still required, and again more, till the whole of the banks are solid and of the necessary height and curve. Then the banks and the rest of the course (the straights) are sprinkled with waterand again beaten down, and the glazed ice surface begins to be made. When this has frozen, water is again sprinkled on it, and again and yet again, till the whole section has become, banks and course alike, a surface of smooth hard ice. Down each side of the narrow racing track (except at its banked corner it is only a few feet wide, a riband of ice) are little walls of firm built snow, also iced, so that the runner, if he is going moderately straight, cannot leave the track, though he often comes into slight collision with these walls. But even slight collisions when travelling at a speed that sometimes exceeds 70 miles an hour are not experiences to be encountered unarmed, and the elbows and knees are thickly protected by felt pads, while on the toes of his boots are toothed rakes made of steel, which are used to guide the runner round the bank and to check his speed if it is so excessive that, unchecked, he would run over the tops of the banks.
A very high degree of nerve, skill, and judgment is required on such an ice-run as this. The rider’s object being to cover the course in as few seconds as possible, he must clearly take his banks (i.e.get round the curves) with as little loss of speed as possible, and he will only use his brakes when his judgment tells him that if unchecked he would be carried over the top of them. On the other hand, he does not want to brake unless it be necessary, and you will often see him with his top runners within an inch or two of the edge of these huge sloping ice-curves. At Battledore and Shuttlecock, the two biggest banks on the Cresta, he enters the second immediately after coming out of the first, and the two form a great S curve. Lower down again, before he threads the
ON THE CRESTA RUNFrom the Drawing by Fleming Williams
ON THE CRESTA RUNFrom the Drawing by Fleming Williams
ON THE CRESTA RUN
From the Drawing by Fleming Williams
arch of the railway bridge, there is another called Bulpett’s corner, designed to protect him from running out to the left of the course, and then a headlong descent takes him to the winning-post, which is at the bottom of the hill. Passing this he snaps a thread with an electric connection, which registers the exact fraction of a second at which he passes it. Then, on his run out, he whirls up a steep ice-covered slope, for if this were not iced too, his speed would be so abruptly checked that he and his toboggan would be bowled over and over like a shot rabbit, and comes to a stop just outside the little village of Cresta. But even with this steep slope to check him after his race is over, the momentum acquired is so great that, if he does not brake heavily all the way up this hill, he will, on reaching the level ground at the top, shoot high into the air, toboggan and all.
Some idea of the speed at which toboggans travel on the straight reaches of the course may be gathered from the average speed at which the course can be run. It is over 1300 yards in length, and has been traversed in a shade over 60 seconds! This means that the highest rate of speed must be well over 70 miles an hour. This on a pair of steel runners, head foremost, with your face a few inches above the solid ice, with nothing to check you except a small-toothed rake on the toe of each boot! Yet so wonderfully skilful is the construction of the run, so cunningly is it built to safeguard the headlong traveller, that accidents are very few. Two fatal ones, indeed, there have been, but of these one had nothing to do with the course itself, but was owing to the fact that a rider started from the top before one of thebarriers across the course, which show that it is not open for racing, had been removed. In the other, the rider ran over a bank and his toboggan fell on the top of him. One of the great difficulties which the builders and managers of this run, in company with other ice-runs, have to contend against, is the power of the sun. It is, of course, absolutely necessary that the icing of the run should be so solid that there is no chance of the runner of a toboggan going through it, which would naturally mean a bad spill. But it is also necessary that certain of the banks must have the sun blazing into them all day long, which would cause them to lose ice faster than it could be made by the sprinkling which goes on when the sun is off them. At such points, therefore, big canvas screens are put up, which shade the bank from the direct rays; also tobogganing is never permitted to go on all day. It starts early in the morning, when the run has been recuperated by the night of frost, and is closed when, in the opinion of the management, the sun has so softened the banks that there is danger of a toboggan cutting through the crust.
This charming form of the sport may be described as combined tobogganing, and in bobbing races teams of four enter against each other. The form of toboggan used is, of course, immensely larger than that employed in single tobogganing, since it will hold five or six persons, and its construction is altogether different and most elaborate. It consists of a long, low platformsome 10 feet in length, and is mounted, not on one pair of runners, but on two. The pair that supports the fore part of the bobsleigh is a sort of bogie-truck, pivoted under the platform, and it can be turned to the right and left in order to direct the course of the bob round curves. This turning of it is done by the captain, who sits first at the bows of the sleigh, and is worked by ropes, which he holds in his hands, or by a wheel which controls its movements. In long runs, as on the Schatz-alp at Davos, the wheel is far better than the ropes, since it entails so much less strain on the hands of the steersman: on a short run the ropes are as good. Behind the captain sit the members of his crew in line, with the loops of rope just outside the framework of the sleigh, in which they fix their heels. Last of them all sits the brakesman, at the stern of the sleigh, who has in his control a powerful steel-toothed brake, which crosses the sleigh behind and is worked with levers. But it is the captain who is in command of the bob, and the brakesman and other members of the crew only perform his orders. The word “bobsleigh” is derived from the movement of leaning or “bobbing” forward, which is done by all the crew together, to get up speed or increase it. They come forward quickly with a jerk, and go back again slowly and steadily, and this without doubt accelerates the movement of the sleigh.
As in all other forms of tobogganing, braking is employed to diminish speed in coming to corners, where otherwise the momentum would cause the whole concern to leave the track altogether. So also, just as the ice-tobogganer inclines his bodyinwards in a similar position, the captain and crew lean to the inside of the track when going round a corner so as to help the toboggan round it, while the inclination of the front pair of runners is directed to the same end. By strong leaning inwards, combined with the inclination of the bogie-pair of runners, quite considerable curves may be taken at high velocity without the use of the brake at all, and the consequent loss of speed. But all this is left to the judgment of the captain, who has to decide whether by direction of the bogie-runners alone, or by that in conjunction with the leaning inwards of his crew, he can safely negotiate a corner without calling for the use of the brake. And the responsibility is entirely in his hands. At the same time much depends on the prompt obedience of the crew to his orders, for it is easily possible that a corner might have been safely coasted round if they had obeyed his call to lean inwards, which would spill them all if his call was not immediately responded to. How great the effect of this inward shifting of the weight can be, if it is thoroughly carried out, may be guessed from Plate XXXI. In this same photograph the inward direction of the front pair of runners may also be seen assisting the work of the crew. And it is this “teamwork,” the sense of working in unison under orders, which gives much of its charm to bobbing. Everyone feels—rightly—that much of the success of the run depends on his individual work, even though his individual work is only to lean as far as possible out of the bob without parting company with it altogether.
Bobbing can be practised on an ordinary road covered with hard snow, or,in excelsis, on runs constructed for this express