Feel the Rhythm! Feel the Rhyme! Get ready for bobsled time!

by Emily van Lierop (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

I didn't expect to find Latvia

I didn’t expect to find myself hurtling down an icy track in a fiberglass shell at over 100km/hr, questioning the life choices made to get here. When my partner mentioned there was a chance to try bob sleighing on our upcoming trip to Latvia, I was intrigued. We’ve all seen Cool Runnings, and it sounded like a unique experience to add to our adventures. Plus gravity seems to do most of the work. We arrived on site on a frosty January morning. A towering tube snaked ominously through the clouds. Beneath it, a half-pipe spiralled downwards, like a slide at a water park. Commissioned in 1986, the Sigulda Bobsleigh and Luge Track is one of 18 similar structures in the world but is the only site allowing curious winter sport fans to try out Olympic Grade Bob Sleighing and Luging. The track is around 1200 metres long, with a gut-wrenching 16 curves. We ascended the steps to the launch platform, just as a padded box full of people went down the ice, watching as they careered and bumped their way clumsily around corners. I breathed a sigh of relief; this would be easier than I thought. We spotted a man wearing a ‘TaxiBob’ T-shirt and mentioned that we’d booked online. He nodded curtly and said they were just bringing the sleigh up from the last ride. He handed us indemnity forms to complete, warning against anyone with back problems, pregnancy and heart troubles in taking this ride. Shortly after, a pick-up pulled up and a few members lifted off a very non-padded sleigh and carried it onto the starting track. This was not the spongy, almost comedy box we’d just seen before. This was in fact a proper, bullet-shaped bob sleigh. We were ushered towards the sleigh and peered in. Inside there was a small wooden plank for ‘sitting’, with small rope loops fastened to it. We were given a helmet and asked to sit open-legged and as close as possible to the person in front, four of us in total. The first person was the ‘driver’ – retired from his original post with the Latvian Olympic Team. This fact was not terribly reassuring, as I couldn’t imagine much steering happening along this icy chute. Before setting off, the driver mentioned casually that we would reach speeds of over 100km/hr, and experience G-forces of 5-6 around the corners. It was important to try to keep our heads up to avoid bumping the sides of the cart. Given these came up to my elbows, I didn’t foresee this being a problem. We were asked if we were ready, and a man’s voice counted us down. Thankfully we didn’t have to both push ourselves off and get into the vehicle like in Cool Runnings, as the trusty helpers gave us a starting shove down the track. Gravity grabbed at us as the car gained speed and shot through the tunnel like a mouse looking for treats. I felt my head, back and shoulders being pulled down as my whole body compressed. On the first corner my helmet whacked the side of the cart. Determined to take control, I stuck my chin out and pushed upwards to gain stability for the next bend. I fought the urge to shut my eyes. On each bend the whole sleigh whooshed up the side, flipping us horizontally before the track evened out again. The entire ride lasted about 50 seconds, and when it was over a calmness settled. The driver hopped out first, then one-by-one the three of us unpeeled from each other and staggered out of the cart, Bambi-like, as we got our bearings. We were handed a certificate and allowed to take pictures with the sleigh before they loaded it up for the next group. There’s a certain knack to bob sleighing which largely involves hanging on for dear life. But beyond the initial fear, there was a sense of accomplishment – of experiencing something that makes you feel so alive, something few others have done before. We were in Latvia for four days in total, but that single minute hurtling down the ice is what I remember most.