O Canada: I Go North Of The Border To Try The Sport Of Curling

Welcome to an unfamiliar world involving ice, and brooms, and shoe condoms.

Allison Peryea and Andrea learning how to 'sweep.'

Allison Peryea and Andrea learning how to ‘sweep.’

Before April, the most exposure I had to the sport of curling was watching a couple of people vigorously sweeping ice during some Winter Olympics for a moment before I changed the TV channel. And while this amount of exposure seemed more than sufficient for a lifetime, last month I found myself signed up for a weekend in Vancouver, Canada, with a day of curling on the schedule.

We were hosted by the Vancouver Curling Club, a group of people who may exist just to prove to the world that curling is actually a thing. When we arrived at the facility, we were instructed to put on these colorful, rubber-sole covers from bins with various sizes available. Once we had our shoe condoms on, we had to step on this sticky paper before going on the ice, which apparently further reduced slipperiness. (This paragraph sounds sort of sketchy, but I swear that this was a very wholesome activity.)

Though the curling rink was indoors, the temperature was just low enough to require gloves and periodic complaints about how it felt like we were hanging out in a refrigerator. The ice in a curling rink is different from an ice-skating rink in that the surface is pebbled rather than smooth. I was curious about how the Zamboni accomplished this textural feat, but I was too busy trying not to fall on my ass to ask about it.

My group of eight had an instructor named Tom who took curling very seriously. He explained that curling is a sport where two teams of four slide “stones” across the ice toward a target area that has four circles, like an ice-covered dartboard on the ground. The stones are these heavy granite things with a handle on top of each one. The goal is to get the most points by getting your stones as close to the center of the target as possible. You can help guide the stone by having two team members sweeping in front of the stone as it slides across the ice. The sweeping is supposed to help smooth the ice to make it easier for the stone to move in a given direction.

The first order of business for our lesson was to practice sweeping. We were given brooms that were sticks with what appeared to be rectangular mop heads at the end. The sweeping portion of the sport reminded me of frenetic chore-doing. Tom didn’t seem to appreciate this comparison, but it definitely brought me back to my youth, back when it was my job to clean the kitchen and bathroom floors on Sundays. (Today my hard-surface flooring does not receive near that same amount of attention, as I have no child to conscript into unpaid weekend labor.)

'Throwing the rock.'

‘Throwing the rock.’

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Later we learned about “throwing” the rock. This involved getting into a sort of pre-race runner’s crouch pushing off one leg into a lunge position, and using your momentum to slide the stone forward toward the target. They gave us a plastic “slider” to put under the foot that slid forward. Several people lost their balance and sprawled out on the ice. This put a damper on finding volunteers to go next, but eventually we all got the hang of it.

Next we tried actually competing. I was made a team captain, and selected poorly, choosing teammates who preferred drinking beer in the party bus that brought us rather than curling. (By the end of the day, this preference applied to almost 100 percent of the participants.) The difficulty was that whoever was “throwing” the stone could either not even get the thing to reach the target, or would overshoot the target entirely. There was also strategy involved in knowing when to sweep and when not to sweep, and we were not all that great at identifying or implementing said strategy. However, I was very much enjoying the workout associated with sweeping. And I was amused by the crap-talking engaged in by my friend Andrea’s team, who, despite having learned curling at the exact same time as my team, seemed to be on track for Olympic qualification. At some point I forgot who was on my team and left in search of muffins.

The Verdict: I probably wouldn’t go curling again unless someone really wanted me to participate and there was some sort of remuneration involved. But I really enjoyed my day curling, if only because it was fascinating to be given a peek into someone else’s world—an unfamiliar world involving ice, and brooms, and shoe condoms. It also taught me that you don’t have to fall in love with a new activity to appreciate it and the people who do love it. But for now, I’m going to limit my curling to hair and ribbon on Christmas presents.


Allison Peryea is a shareholder attorney at Leahy Fjelstad Peryea, a boutique law firm in downtown Seattle that primarily serves community association clients. Her practice focuses on covenant enforcement and dispute resolution. She is a longtime humor writer with a background in journalism and cat ownership. You can reach her by email at Allison.Peryea@leahyps.com.

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