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Tobogganing: More than just a fun winter sport

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Tobogganing: More than just a fun winter sport

What one American’s love affair with tobogganing can teach us about the historical and social significance of the sport

GRAHAM BURT | ARCHIVES ASSOCIATE

“A winter in Canada! I think I should rather spend it there than anywhere else on the face of this broad earth.”

“What! And freeze to death?”

“No, old fellow, you’d have no time for freezing.”

— An exchange between Harry Clay Palmer, a Chicago-based sports journalist, and a young Montrealer named Dick from The toboggan: A brief sketch of Canadian winter sports, and something as to their growing popularity in the United States.

The toboggan, written by Harry Clay Palmer in 1886, offers interesting insight into the history of the toboggan and its relationship to late 19th-century views of Canadian culture, athleticism, science, colonialism, and the visage of ideal womanhood.

Since hockey is quintessentially (and perhaps stereotypically) known today as Canada’s premier winter pastime, it may surprise some that in the late 19th and early 20th centuries this was not the case. Rather, when people thought of Canadian winter sports, they thought of the tobog-

gan. The American Harry Palmer, a self-declared summer-loving baseball fanatic, decided to brave the cold and travel north to see what all the fuss was about. He wrote about his adventure in The toboggan.

“The cold, bracing atmosphere, the exhilarating effects of ice skating, the snow-shoe tramp, the toboggan slide, the sleighing jaunt, and the score of other pastimes in which the Canadians indulge with an abandon and degree of enthusiasm I have never seen equaled ... The Canadian, it seems, is never happier than when the snow falls,” Palmer wrote, describing his first impressions of Canada soon after he arrived in Montreal.

In addition, Palmer’s description of his first toboggan ride captures the essence of what many people who live in snowy climates still love about the activity today.

“We shot over the polished surface of the slide with a speed that I had never before experienced,” he wrote. “And I have ridden sixty miles an hour upon a railway train on more than one occasion. To breathe was difficult; to speak was impossible. The world seemed to be suddenly sinking beneath us, and we, together with the hill behind us, seemed plunging down into eternity.”

Notwithstanding some tired legs and bruised limbs — caused mostly by falling off of his toboggan after hitting numerous ‘cahots’ (bumps) on the hill — Palmer fell in love with the sport. He even predicted that tobogganing would soon become the national winter pastime of the United States, equal in popularity to baseball, which means an awful lot coming from one of the country’s top baseball reporters of the day.

Tobogganing in the late 19th century was far more than a fun winter activity. It was also a symbol of cultural and scientific progress.

In his brief section on the history and etymology of the toboggan, Palmer recognizes its rich Indigenous heritage. He claims that the toboggan, which came from the Esquimaux word adabaggon, was a “primitive” invention of the “untutored red man,” who used it for thousands of years to

transport goods, food, and furs across large swaths of land.

The “Indian,” Palmer suggested, used the toboggan for practical reasons. Only when the ‘civilized’ settlers came on the scene was it adapted for fun and sport.

In conjunction with the cultural adaptation of the toboggan, a clear example of colonialism, was its scientification. Written like an academic article, Palmer described the science behind tobogganing and included the best sled and hill designs and conditions.

“I don’t think maple is as good a material as hickory,” Palmer wrote. “Most Canadian toboggans are perfectly smooth and flat on the bottom. Now that’s a mistake; three or four of the planks only ought to come in contact with the ice [to act as runners], and they should be rounded off so that the friction may be reduced to the minimum.”

The physical benefits of tobogganing were also viewed in scientific terms.

“For of all the sports I ever participated in,” Palmer said, “none can equal in excitement, healthful physical exercise, and real exhilaration than that of tobogganing … Gymnasiums have been invented for the bone and muscle, but where is the machine to properly exercise the nerves? It is the toboggan.”

“Without question,” Palmer continued, “tobogganing stands alone as a healthful and delightful winter pastime. It strengthens one’s lungs, invigorates his body, and tones up his nerves as no nerve tonic ever could.” All of this was “founded on scientific truth,” of course.

Notice the masculine pronouns Palmer used in describing the health benefits of tobogganing—his body and his nerves. Women were very much present on the toboggan hill in Palmer’s account, but their participation was far more passive. It was the men who escorted the women up the hill, and the men who steered the toboggans down the hill. In local tobogganing clubs, women were inducted as “lady associate members” and were ineligible to vote or hold office.

Tobogganing was still advantageous for women, according to Palmer, but not in the same ways it was for men. The benefits were more about the development of aesthetics and character.

“If ever a woman looks fresh and young and irresistibly lovely,” Palmer wrote, “it is when at the top of a climb up a toboggan slide she stops with her cheeks flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes shining with the exertion of the tramp.” Indeed, Palmer went so far as to claim that time spent on the toboggan hill led to “perfect physical and ideal womanhood.”

In many ways, tobogganing in the 19th century was an insouciant and carefree social activity. Men and women alike could put aside the “work-a-day worry of business and home life” in one “seemingly reckless whirl of pleasure.” And yet, the sport also carried with it various social and aesthetic expectations. Interestingly, the toboggan hill became a fashion runway of sorts.

“Not the least of the attractions in tobogganing lies in the picturesque beauty of the costumes worn,” Palmer said. “These [costumes], for both ladies and gentlemen, are fashioned from soft woolen blankets of blue, scarlet, orange, old gold, pink, purples and other attractive colors, either solid or tastefully blended ...”

A typical toboggan costume consisted of a button-down frock, knee breeches, stockings, moccasins, and a “brilliantly hued” tuque. Women also wore a colourful sash which matched their male escort’s outfit. It was expected for everyone to buy a costume and wear it when they came to the hill.

Many aspects of tobogganing have certainly changed in the 135 years since Palmer wrote The toboggan. Natural hills have become popular again, women are free to toboggan without an escort, and the wearing of colourful costumes is no longer a prerequisite to participate. The thrill of the ride, it seems, is the only constant, save perhaps for a few multi-coloured tuques that are still donned today. If you find yourself on a toboggan hill this holiday season, keep in mind the rich history of Canadian winter sports. And remember, watch out for cahots!

Images from The toboggan: A brief sketch of Canadian winter sports, and something as to their growing popularity in the United States (1886), A&SC, University of Guelph Library, s0121b19.

Archival and Special Collections in McLaughlin Library holds a first edition copy of The toboggan that interested readers may view.

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