The Olympic Skeleton

Like so many, The Wife and I have been awestruck by the talent and athleticism of those participating in the winter Olympics. They’ve reached the pinnacle of their sports and are now basking in the glory of the world’s spotlight, if but for only a few minutes. And in the end, some will stand on the podium and receive a medal – the ultimate testament to a lifetime of hard work and sacrifice. But did you ever wonder how some of the winter events came about? That’s the very question The Wife and I asked each other as we were watching one of the strangest winter Olympic events ever: the Skeleton.

After doing an exhaustive amount of research (a thirty-second Google search), I found the history of this strange event, how it came about, and how it got its unique name. 

In 1882, seeking a more challenging high-speed alternative than just strapping wooden sticks on one’s feet and skiing down a snow-covered mountain or the traditional toboggan sledding, English soldiers and tourists got together in the town of Davos. Davos was, and still is, the prominent ski resort town some 5,118 feet above sea level located deep in the Swiss Alps. Ultimately, the group developed the new sport in conjunction with the 1884 construction of the Cresta, a natural ice track in St. Moritz, Switzerland. Three years later, St. Moritz would be the competition location for the head-first sliding event – the Skeleton. The Skeleton got its unique name from the bony, skeletal appearance of the small sled used. In the 1928 Winter Olympics, it debuted as a new spot, discontinued after 1948, but came back in 2002. And the rest is history.

But here is the “true” origin story…written by Yours Truly. 

Yes, way back in 1882 English soldiers and a few tourists did indeed meet in the town of Davos, but it wasn’t to come up with a new winter sport. The tourists were staying at the Grand Hotel Belvedere, well known for housing famous folks like the Vanderbilts and Robert Louis Stevenson. After dining at the fancy onsite restaurant, the tourists went to the bar for a round of adult beverages and further merriment. Once inside the smoke-filled, dark mahogany-paneled room, they immediately noticed a group of soldiers at the bar that seemed to have had a little too much merriment. Their loud conversation was impossible not to overhear.

First soldier said, “They’re strapping wood to their feet and sliding down a snow-covered mountain! How crazy is that?” The answers to his questions came quickly.

“Crazy!”

“Idiots!”

“Bad use of good wood.”

Laughter erupted amongst the men, more adult beverages were consumed, and after a little while the first soldier chuckled, “Hey, got a great idea for a new winter sport.” A hush fell over the men as they leaned in to hear what their comrade in arms had to say. “Let’s get a big board and slide down the mountain.”

“Sled? We already have sleds.”

The first soldier shook his head, “No, not a sled. You don’t sit on it; you lie on it.”

The other soldiers started to laugh.

“That’s called a toboggan.”

“You don’t lie on a toboggan; you sit on it!”

The first soldier replied, “You’re gonna lay down on your belly.”

There was a moment of silence, then the other soldiers’ laughter filled the room.

“Dumbest thing I ever heard.”

“How would you steer?”

“You’ll crash.”

“You can’t see while lying on your belly going feet first down a mountain.”

The first soldier took a long draw from his adult beverage, wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, smiled, and replied mischievously, “That’s the beauty of the whole thing. You go down headfirst!”

Laughter again filled the room and got louder when he added, “…and the board will be so small it will only go from your chest down to your hips – legs dangling off behind.”

When the laughter finally died down, a concerned soldier asked, “What about a helmet?”

The first soldier thought for a moment, smiled, then answered, “No, we tell them it’s the safest sport there is, and you just wear a wool cap to keep warm.”

With the equipment and safety concerns covered, another round was ordered, the night grew long, and other topics were talked about. That is until the conversation circled back around to the new sport.

“What are we gonna call it?”

“Call what?”

“The downhill, headfirst, on a tiny board, wearing a wool cap thing.”

 The soldiers thought for a while, but no one came up with a viable name, until the first soldier stood up and declared that he had the perfect one.

“I’ve got it! We’ll name it the Skeleton. Because that’s all that’ll be left when they finally find you after crashing off the mountain going down headfirst wearing only a wool cap for protection.” All the men agreed, and the rest is history. Well…kinda.

For the true end of this story, let’s flash forward to last Tuesday when The Wife and I were watching the Winter Olympics. The downhill ski racing was just finishing when they announced the Skeleton would be next. For the next hour, we were glued to the television watching as one athlete after another from around the world ran then jumped on a tiny board and sped down the half-pike ice course headfirst with only a motorcycle helmet for protection. What the announcers said during the event inspired me to write this story.

“The participants are speeding downhill at 50 to 60 miles per hour headfirst! Their chins just one inch above the ice!”

“Yes,” said the other announcer. “You know, the Skeleton is the safest of all the ice sports.”

After hearing this, the Wife and I looked at each other, laughed, and this story was born.