Like most inventions having to do with physical comfort, probably the snowshoe was a lazy man’s gift to the race. We can imagine how he found that by bandaging boughs on his moccasins feet he could get about with less trouble than his fellows; the idea spread, the boughs took form, then webbing was run across bows of wood and the snowshoe came into being.

​Every locality has its own special snowshoe, ranging from the eleven foot models of the Alaskans to the flat boards with cross pieces of the Italian dwellers of the Apennines. And each special model, far from being just subject for ridicule by the folks of any other locality, proves itself to be peculiarly adapted to the needs of the place in which it is found. Therein lies the lesson of all the new implements of the now popular winter sports; they must be adapted to the special localities in which they are to be used or the fullest measure of sport cannot be had.

The Indian of the north prefers black or yellow birch for the bows of his snowshoes. Failing that wood of the right quality he selects ash, out of which the best of the snowshoes sold in large cities are generally fashioned. The webbing is preferably of caribou hide, but as there is very little caribou hide available the webbing is generally made bow cow hide for the important center and lamb skin for the filling of toe and tail piece. Properly treated and regularly painted with a good varnish these materials are entirely satisfactory for the most critical of snowshoe users. As a matter of fact the best snowshoes today are made by white men, not by Indians, just as the white man has come to make better canoes than the Indian ever made. The snowshoes sold at fair price by the leading dealers are thoroughly equal to any service they could be asked to give and will outwear several pairs of the Indian make.

The webbing of the center is carried around the bow of the snowshoe, while that of the toe and tail is passed through small holes bored in the bow. Where the webbing is passed through the bows, little knots of worsted are used to break the knife-like cut of the crusted snow- not because they look pretty, as many folks think. The making of a pair of snowshoes takes the best part of several days, even with the aids of civilization, while among the Indian tribes of the far north several months elapse between the time when the first tree was felled for the bows to the day of the finished product, including stretching of the skins, warping of the bows, lacing of the webbing and drying out.

The size of the snowshoe as well as its pattern depends largely upon the size and weight of the wearer, and the uses to which the snowshoe is to be put. For racing purposes the Alaskans use a snowshoe of 11 feet in length. The Montagnais beaux use a snowshoe of 36 inches in width. The trappers of the Rocky Mountains use a small “bear paw” snowshoe almost round in shape, and the best general snowshoe for the eastern part of the North American continent is the Algonquin or “club” pattern ranging from 40 to 50 inches in length and from 12 to 14 inches in width. The “bear paw” pattern is excellent for brush and hill country. The size of the mesh is governed by the average quality of the snow; when the snow is fine and dry and feathery a small mesh is desirable, while in damp and moist snow the mesh should be larger.

​Fastening the snowshoe to the foot is an important matter. Even the Indians and the trappers of the far north wanted to borrow or buy the ingenious American snowshoe sandal which I had attached to my snowshoes during a recent winter wolf hunting trip. These firm practical bindings are far and away superior to the lamp-wicking thongs or leather strings formerly used, especially when the walking is over hilly country, and the sag of the binding causes slipping of the foot on the snowshoe. Moccasins should be worn with snowshoes; dry tanned when the weather is very cold, say about zero, and oil tanned when it is warmer and the snow melts during the day. The binding should not be so tight as to stop the circulation nor should it come above the toe joints.

An excellent device popular with the Appalachian Mountain Club of New England, on its winter outings on snowshoe, consists of a leather piece about the size of the foot attached to the under side of the snowshoe and studded with long pointed hob nails for ice creeping. There will often be times when some such device will be of the greatest value, especially in climbing crusted hillsides. The leather can be permanently attached to the snowshoe or merely tied on with rawhide thongs so as to be detachable if one wants to coast down hill on the snowshoes or does not require the additional grip on the snow.

Almost anybody can learn to use snowshoes with little trouble. An hour will generally suffice the average athletic young person in which to secure sufficient ease in the use of the new toys to warrant starting off on a trip of a day or more. There are certain muscles which the sport calls into play, such as the upper thigh and the lower calf, that some folks have allowed to become weak and almost useless, but after a few days of Snowshoeing these muscles will learn their right function and cause little trouble. Correcting a wrong impression, it should be stated that the snowshoe does not really keep the walker on the top of the snow. When the snow is fine and the weather cold the snowshoe will sink in from two to five inches below the surface of the snow and the next step requires that it be lifted above the level of the snow and dragged along. This is the work which many beginners find most tedious and exhausting. The best way to save the strength of the beginners in such case is for the experts, whose muscles for the sport are in good trim, to “break trail” most of the time, thus reducing the work of the others who follow. But of course all plucky students of the sport will want in time to do their full share of the pioneering work of the leader.

​When the sport has been fairly learned, it is amazing how easy it becomes. Greater distances can be traveled on snowshoes in a day than any member of the party could walk on a macadamized road. This is due partly to the increased length of the stride, and partly to the easy cushion on which the foot comes to rest. Fifty and sixty miles is not an unusual day’s run for the expert snowshoer of the north. Thirty will be a good day’s work for the amateur, even after some years of experience. If packs of any kind are carried they should be of the Alpine ruck-sack pattern, consisting of a sort of loose knapsack swung over both shoulders and resting low in the back, so as not to interfere with the balance.

A moonlight snowshoe walk over the hills such as is customary in Canada or in the Adirondacks, to a rendezvous where open fires are provided, either indoors or out, and hot meals are served, is a journey never to be forgotten. One of the special delights of such a party is the “Grand Bounce” which consists of tossing some member of the party into the air from the center of a blanket, the edges of which are held by a score of friends. Sometimes the blanket is dispensed with and the member thus “honored” is flung up by catching hold of arms and legs and body. One of the most famous of the pictures of this sport shows the late Frederick Remington being thus flung heavenward by his admiring friends.

​No sport of all the winter combines such a variety of picturesque costumes or such an international array of suitable material for the sport. For instance, the red and white and parti-colored blanket costumes are strictly Canadian in origin and history; the stockinette caps or toques are French; the socks, which are as indispensable as the snowshoes themselves, are German; the moccasins are Indian and the snowshoes, nine chances to ten, are American!

Tune in next week for the next chapter!

​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Editor’s Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article featuring stories by Captain William O. Benson (1911-1986). Beginning in 1971, Benson, a retired tugboat captain, reminisced about his 40 years on the Hudson River in a regular column for the Kingston (NY) Freeman’s Sunday Tempo magazine. Captain Benson's articles were compiled and transcribed by HRMM volunteer Carl Mayer. See more of Captain Benson’s articles here. This article was originally published January 21, 1973.

​Back around 1908, there was a stone quarry at Rockland Lake south of Haverstraw and the Cornell Steamboat Company towed the quarry's scows to New York from early spring until hindered by ice the following winter.  At the same time, the steamers "Homer Ramsdell" and "Newburgh" of the Central Hudson Line were carrying milk on a year round basis between Newburgh and New York. 

In early January of that long ago time, the Cornell tugboats "Hercules" and "Ira M. Hedges" were sent up river to the quarry to bring down five loaded scows of stone.  Ice had been forming in the river and, as any man who has worked on the river soon finds out, the river sometimes closes over night.  He also discovers that at times salt water ice is harder to get through than fresh water ice.

When the tugs arrived at Rockland Lake, the river was covered with ice from shore to shore and making more ice rapidly.  It was now about 5 p.m., very dark with a northeast wind, and it looked as if a storm was brewing.  Captain Mel Hamilton of the "Hercules" telephoned Cornell's New York office and suggested they stay there overnight.  He knew by waiting until daylight to start down, he could better find open spots in the floating ice and that the "Ramsdell" and "Newburgh" on their milk runs would be breaking up ice and perhaps keep it moving.  The Cornell office, however, would not listen to Captain Hamilton's suggestion and told him they wanted him to start out immediately and get the tow to New York as soon as possible.

Trouble at Tarrytown
On leaving Rockland Lake with five wooden scows, the "Hercules" was in charge of the tow and the "Hedges" was supposed to go ahead and break ice since she had an iron hull.  The ebb tide was about half done and everything went all right until they were about two miles north of the Tarrytown lighthouse. 

The "Hedges” wasn’t too good as an ice breaker and she would get fast in the ice herself.  The "Hercules" with the tow would creep alongside and break her out.  After this happened a few times, both tugs tried pulling on the tow.  Finally, the tide began to flood, jamming the ice from shore to shore, and the two tugs couldn't move the tow at all through the ice. 

The only thing to do was to lay to until the tide changed.  After about an hour it started to snow from the northeast and the wind increased to about 20 m.p.h. Captain Hamilton of the "Hercules" told Captain Herb Dumont of the "Hedges” to go back to the tail end of the tow and keep an eye out for the "Newburgh" he knew would be coming down.  The "Hercules" lay along the head of the tow on watch for the ‘"Ramsdell" on her way up river. 

Both tugs started to blow fog and snow signals on their whistles, as they lay in the channel and knew the Central Hudson steamers would be going through the ice and swirling snow on compass courses at full speed in order to maintain their schedule and not expecting to find an ice bound tow in their path.  Neither tugboat captain relished the thought of his tug or the tow being cut in half by the "Ramsdell" or "Newburgh."

​“Newburgh” Heard First
The first of the two Central Hudson steamers to be heard was the "Newburgh” by the crew of the "Hedges."  Coming down river with the wind behind her, the men on the tug could hear the "Newburgh" pounding and crunching through the ice and her big base whistle sounding above the storm.  Both the "Hercules" and "Hedges" were blowing their whistles to let the "Newburgh" know they were fast in the ice and not moving.  The snow storm had now become a blizzard. 

On the "Hedges" at the tail end of the tow, her crew was relieved when they could hear the crunching of the ice seem to ease off, indicating the "Newburgh" had probably heard their whistle and was slowing down.
 
In a few moments, the bow of the "Newburgh" loomed up out of the blowing snow headed almost directly for the "Hedges."  Above the storm, the men on the tugboat could hear the bow lookout on the "Newburgh" yell to the pilot house, "There's a Cornell tug dead ahead."

The "Newburgh'' eased off to starboard and crept up along side of the tow.  When abreast of the "Hercules," the captain, Jim Monahan, hollered through a megaphone to the "Hercules" captain, asking if he wanted "Newburgh” to circle around the tow and try and break them out of the ice’s grip.  Boatmen always tried to help one another out, even though they might have been working for different companies. 

Moved and Stopped
The "Newburgh" cut around the tow twice before continuing on her way to New York and disappearing into the swirling snow of the winter's night.  The "Hercules" was able to move the tow about one tow’s length and was then again stopped. 

In about half an hour, the crew of the "Hercules” could hear the whistle of the "Homer Ramsdell" blowing at minute intervals as she was cutting through the ice on her way to Newburgh.  On the "Herc," they were sounding her high shrill whistle to let the "Ramsdell" know they were in the channel.  In those days, long before the radio telephones of today, the steam whistle signals were the boatman's only means of communication. 

The "Ramsdell" came up bow to bow with the "Hercules," backing down hard, the bow lookout yelling to the pilot house a tow was ahead.  Coming to a stop with only a few feet separating the two vessels, Captain Fred Miller of the "Ramsdell" tramped out on his bow and yelled down to Captain Hamilton, asking if he could be of any help.  When told the tow was fast in the ice, Captain Miller said he was ahead of time and would try and free the tow. 
​
Captain Miller took the "Ramsdell" around the tow twice and then continued on his way up river.  This time, the "Hercules" was able to move the tow about two tow lengths and again came to a dead stop.  All they could do now was wait for the tide to change.  However, at least they knew no other steamers were moving on the river and they were relatively safe.  

​Leaks Develop
When the crew of the "Hercules" was sitting in the galley and having a cup of hot coffee, one of the scow captains hollered over and waving a lantern, said his scow was leaking and his pumps were frozen.  Men from the "Hercules" then had to climb over the snow covered scow and try to find and stop the leak.  One of the deckhands found the leak in the dark and patched it up.  After about two hours, the same thing happened to another scow, the oakum having been pulled out of the seams at the water line by the ice. 

Finally, the tide began to ebb again and they were able to once again move the tow.  Shortly after daylight the snow storm abated and the wind moderated.  As the "'Hercules" and the "Hedges" moved further down river, the ice became more floes than solid ice.  However, before arriving in New York, they were overtaken by the "Ramsdell" again the following night off Manhattanville.  
​
After the crews’ long battle with ice and snow and on arriving in New York, their reward was to have their tugs tied up and to be layed off for the winter.  In those days their pay was extremely modest.  As a matter of fact, the pay of deckhands and firemen was a bunk, food and a dollar a day, — for a twelve hour day, seven days a week.  As the boatmen used to say.  "Thirty days and thirty dollars."

​​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Editor's Note: The following is a verbatim transcription of a chapter from Spalding's Winter Sports by James A. Cruikshank, published in 1917 and part of the Ray Ruge Collection at the Hudson River Maritime Museum. Many thanks to volunteer Adam Kaplan for transcribing this booklet. That the spelling "skiis" is original to the text.

​There seems to be no doubt that the ski originated in Norway. But it is now to be found everywhere snow falls, from the extreme limits of Greenland to the summits of the Andes where South American Governments employ expert ski runners to carry mail. First as an implement of communication between nations otherwise snow bound, and now as the chosen toy of winter loving thousands it has finally come into its own. Probably no one plaything has so rapidly forged into a leading place among the sport tools of the northern races as these long and curious “planks,” as the Austrians call them. Ten years ago the ski was an interesting ethnological souvenir found only in museums; today it is hard to supply the demand for them. With that imitative and inventive skill characteristic of the Yankee, some of the best skis are now produced in the United States. They have improvements and changes peculiarly adapting them to the climate and the snow of the North American continent, and are to be preferred to the imported article in every respect.

The experts of Europe, who are without doubt far in advance in the practical use of the ski, for either business or sport, have come to regard them as superior to the snowshoe for covering distance and general cruising. The armies of Northern Europe have almost exclusively adopted skiis after competitive trials of them with the Canadian snowshoe. While Norway and Austria have settled this matter by the adoption of the ski for Amy use, Canada still maintains the supremacy of the snowshoe. The battle is still on and the wise lover of winter will contribute his mite to the controversy by testing both, since there are delights to be had with each which the other does not supply.

The ski is generally made of ash of the very best quality, or hickory. Some of the skiis of Northern Europe are made of elm, but the imported skiis of that wood have not proven satisfactory. Spruce has also been tried out, in Michigan, but without improvement over ash. Few of the implements for sport require such care in the making and such accuracy of design. While the expert can manage to get along on poor skiis, or crooked ones, it is the height of folly for the amateur who cares about perfecting himself in the sport to learn on anything but well made, correctly shaped and accurately balanced skiis.

Among the experts of the north the length of the ski is generally determined by stretching the hand over the head and selecting a pair that reach to the wrist. “Long” ski would be to where the fingers bend at the second joint; “short” ski to six inches over the head. For general use, hill climbing, touring, and even for jumping, the average or the short ski is the best. Short, stiff legged people should select a short ski, else the important kick turn cannot be executed, and on this movement depends much of the cruising ability of the ski devotee. Long skiis are best only on level stretches and flat country. There is a slight upturn at the toe of the ski made by steaming and bending the wood to a metal form. The farther north one goes, the higher this bend is generally carried. Four inches is a correct average for general use. The ski should be slightly wider at the front than at the tail. The wearer’s foot is placed about two-fifths of the distance from the tail of the ski, by which arrangement the bulk of the weight of the ski is forward of the foot. The groove is now almost universally used and runs either the full length of the bottom of the ski or to a place slightly forward of the foot. This groove tends to keep the ski straight, to steer it, so to speak, and is most important on hill descents.

​The foot binding is of the greatest importance. It must be rigid, yet not bind the muscles of the toes or ankle. A heavy boot is essential, or one with a very heavy sole, which is crowded or drawn firmly into the toe fastenings and then the straps fastened so they will not give. On the firmness and rigidity of the foot binding depends almost wholly the ability of the beginner to make rapid progress in the sport.
 
There are two forms of foot bindings, the toe and the sole patterns. The sole pattern is almost unknown in the United States, although it is ranked very high by the experts of the Tyrol and the Norway chutes. The toe binding consists of a firm metal piece which is run through the ski, bent up on either side of the sole and fitted to hold the foot rigidly in place. Straps run from this metal piece over the toes and also back around the heel, being kept from slipping off the shoe by a small leather strap passing over the instep. This is the best of the toe fastenings.

​The usual accompaniment of the ski expert is one or sometimes two sticks used to press against the snow on the level or to steer or brake in descending hills. When but one stick is used it is generally from 6 to 8 feet in length and of bamboo; when two are used they should not be over 5 feet in length. All sticks should be equipped with leather wrist thongs and have spikes at the bottom and rings of wood firmly attached about 6 inches from the bottom. It is better for the beginner to learn with one long stick and occasionally, as he progresses in confidence, to discard the stick for considerable periods of time, so as to increase his perfection of balance.

Contrary to general belief, Skiing does not require great muscular power. It is a matter of skill of balance, a knack such as one learns in swimming. For this reason it is much better to secure a teacher, if that be possible, who will at least start the beginner right and save him from learning many things which he must later unlearn. There are nice points in the sport which no type can convey, but which the eye will instantly perceive as they are executed by the expert.

​Failing the advantage of a teacher note these points: Do not try coasting or jumping the first thing. Much better to learn how to get up the hill, either by the hard and difficult “herringboning” method, the easier “tacking” or the simplest of all methods, “side stepping.” When you do come down remember that if the snow is damp and sticky you must lean back, while if it is dry and frozen you must lean forward. It has been wisely said that when man starts to go down hill all nature seems greased for the occasion. No man appreciates that as much as does the ski amateur. Every tree is a magnet, every stump and every rock beckons your unmanageable “planks” straight towards destruction. Study the snow, its condition, the effect of the sun on it; sometimes there is fine sport to be had on north slopes when none can be had elsewhere. Learn the sort of snow that makes for speed, for difficult climbing, for easy touring, and adapt your work for the day to the conditions. The expert ski runner knows the changing and changeableness of the snow as few men do. Snow with breaking crust is dangerous, for many reasons, while a solid crust is great sport. Avoid tracks made by others, especially in hill coasting. 

The fundamental things to learn in Skiing are: Darting, which simply means running downhill with skiis close together and parallel; Steering, which is done by leaning toward the side one wishes to go; Stemming, or Braking, which is done by skiis against the snow, and Slanting, which means taking a hill on an angle, a sort of “tacking downhill.”

All of these movements are of almost equal importance, and should be practiced faithfully if the beginner would achieve a place in the sport or get the most fun out of it. Stemming needs but a simple diagram to explain its meaning, and Steering cannot be taught by any book; its balance is a thing which can only be learned by experience and many falls.

No amount of book learning will make a ski runner expert at the sport, and the best of all the foreign books on the subject, published in the home of the sport, entirely evades the subject of Ski Jumping; nevertheless it is probable that some advice as to that important department of the sport will be welcomed. But the beginner must look more to practice than to advice.

Start first without any take-off. Learn every balance with and without a pole; poles are never used in serious jumping. Gauge the stickiness of the snow and adjust your balance on arriving back on the snow after the jump to the resistance; if sticky snow, lean backward; if slippery, lean forward. Do not practice where the take-off lands you on flat ground; it is dangerous. There should be greater drop after the jump than before it. Hold your arms rigid while in the air. On touching the snow, the right foot, or one foot, should slightly precede the other.. Have the tails of the skiis touch the snow first, so as to act as rudders and get correct position. And expect ninety per cent. of falls to jumps for the first hundred jumps.

Clothing for Skiing should be hard close-woven wool. Hairy goods catch the snow and soon become wet. Neck and wrists should be fitted tight and a puttee or binding of cloth about the shoe top, enclosing the long trousers or closing the opening for snow in the shoe tops is important.

​There is an adaptation of Skiing which is great fun and consists of employing a horse to drag the ski runners about the country, or to the top of a hill where they may coast down. Long strings of ski experts are thus met with in Norway and Switzerland, and the merriest of sport is associated with the novelty. Trips to nearby towns or places of interest can thus be made, where a meal can be had, and the return trip can be done cross country or again by horse power.
 

Skiers, what do you think? Does Cruikshank give good advice? Stay tuned for another chapter next week.

​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Editor's Note: The following is a verbatim transcription of a chapter from Spalding's Winter Sports by James A. Cruikshank, published in 1917 and part of the Ray Ruge Collection at the Hudson River Maritime Museum. Many thanks to volunteer Adam Kaplan for transcribing this booklet.

The modern skate, briefly described, is of two kinds and several patterns. One is intended for speed skating and the other for figure skating. The best pattern for speed skating consists of a very thin, extremely hard, flat, steel blade, tapered from one-sixteenth of an inch at toe to one thirty-second of an inch at heel, fourteen and one-half and fifteen and one-half inches in length, set in a hollow steel tube, from which hollow steel supports or uprights run to the metal foot-plates, which are in turn riveted to a thin, close fitting shoe having no heel. Some of the fastest speed skaters still use the old fashioned wood top skate screwed to the heel of the shoe when the ice is reached and fastened over the toes with straps; but this pattern is rapidly going out of vogue. The hockey skate, used in that game and now of great popularity among skaters of all ages and classes and sexes, whether they play hockey or not, consists of a flat blade, with either three or four uprights or stanchions running to the metal foot-plate screwed or riveted to the shoe. The length of the blade depends upon the length of the skater’s foot. This skate is generally very slightly curved where the blade rests upon the ice, making quick turns and sharp curves possible. It is an excellent skate with which to learn the art of skating, but after the beginner has learned to feel fairly safe should be changed for the rocker skate or figure skate, if further progress in the sport of Figure Skating is an object. It is unfortunate that so many young people take up the flat-blade skate, either of the hockey or racing pattern, and then persistently stick to that pattern, since no general advancement in the achievement of curves and patterns is ever possible to the user of the flat-blade skate.

​Undoubtedly the best pattern for the figure skate is that which was taken to Europe by Jackson Haines, the American skater, in 1865, and adopted by almost every European skater of fame from that day to this. With  the revival of skating in the United States, and especially the Continental or “fancy” style, has come a demand for a skate best suited to the graceful figures that render this form of the art so attractive. This old, yet new, skate has but two uprights or stanchions from the blade to the foot or heel plates, the blade curves over in front so as almost to touch the shoe; there is considerably greater distance from the skater’s heel to the ice than in former patterns, and larger radius of the curve of the blade where it rests upon the ice. The blade is splayed, or wider in the middle than at the toe and heel, and there are deep knife edge corrugations at the toe for pirouettes and toe movements. This is the skate which is now being used by the best skaters of the world, and the only pattern on which the larger, freer, bird-like movements so characteristic of the best skaters of Europe, are possible. It is an interesting fact that this skate is now the recognized standard of the leading instructors and experts in Figure Skating in all the prominent rinks and in theatrical attractions in which ice spectacles are a feature.

​Skating, whether the beginner has in mind speed or figure work, is best learned without human aid. An old, strong chair, to the legs of which have been fastened wooden runners, is the best of all devices for starting the young skater on the right balance and contributing to his self reliance and confidence. Very early in the attempts at the sport, the beginner will decide whether he is interested in Speed or Figure Skating, and he is then urged to select the correct outfit rather than adopt habits which it will be difficult later to break. There are scores of skaters now using the flat blade hockey or racing skate who will never achieve satisfactory speed, but who are peculiarly adapted to success in Figure Skating. Speed Skating is interesting for a time, and hockey is a splendid athletic game, but the figure skater has a pastime and an athletic pursuit which will interest him for a lifetime, and in which there are intricacies as fascinating as a geometrical puzzle. There are excellent books on the new forms of Figure Skating now available, the latest of which, Mr. Irving Brokaw’s “Art of Skating” and “Figure Skating for Women,” published in the Spalding Athletic Library, should be in the hands of every lover of the sport.

After the beginner has attained some measure of confidence, the skate sail will be found a most interesting diversion and addition to the sport. There are many patterns of skate sails. The simplest, as well as one of the best is the rectangular pattern, fashioned of two uprights at the fore and aft ends of the sail with a cross piece as spreader. The size of this sail will depend on the designer and the sport he seeks. The average size recommended for an expert skater would be 6 to 7 feet in height and 10 to 12 feet in width. The wooden spars at the bends should be of pine or spruce, squared, thicker in the middle than at the ends, and of one piece. The center spreader may be jointed or hinged. The best material for the sail is either unbleached muslin, which is very cheap, or the best sea island cotton, known as “balloon silk.” In the sail can be set an oval or circle of celluloid as a window through which the skate sailor may watch his course. 

The skate sail described can be made by almost any amateur, will cost less than five dollars, and will return more sport for its cost than almost any other winter sport implement. There are many other patterns of skate sails, the next best being the triangular or pyramid shape with the base of the pyramid parallel with the skater and the long end of the sail stretching out behind. The right dimensions for such a sail for the average person will be about 9 feet for the upright spar and 10 to 12 feet for the boom. The spars can be made of heavy bamboo, and by means of a small pulley over the forward end of the boom the sail can be stretched taut. There is another foreign pattern sail which has a boom stretching across the two end spars and projecting beyond them a foot or so. Such a model requires a larger field of ice than those which have been described.

Uninformed advisers recommend the flat blade skate for Skate Sailing. They are wrong, because sharp turns and curves have to be made for successful Skate Sailing. The best skate for the sport is either the regulation figure skate or a hockey skate having a curved blade. The skate sail ought to be used only where there is ample freedom; it is not adapted to small skating ponds or rinks since high speed is frequently developed, even up to thirty miles an hour, and dangerous accidents may occur.

Anyone can learn the use of the skate sail with a few hours’ practice. Unlike the ice boat, which it so much resembles, tacking is done exactly the same as with a small boat, with the exception that when the sailor is ready to “come about” he simply throws the sail up over his head, makes his right angle turn into the new course and the sail comes down in correct position. It is also possible to shift the sail forward while under full speed until it is past the center, then slip it from one side of the body to the other, make the turn into the new course, and continue on the new tack. Magnificent competitive sport can be had with the skate sail by organizing “one design classes,” just as in small boat sailing, so that every sailor has similar equipment and there are no odds. Differences in weight of the contestants will be about equalized by the advantage of weight in one position of sailing as against its disadvantages in another.
​
Women pick up the sport readily and find it most interesting. Many a woman has learned from the skate sail, for the first time, that she really can handle a sail so that she is able to get back to the place from which she started by the otherwise incomprehensible route known in yachting as “tacking.” Warm gloves, tight fitting clothing, and some sort of face protection are advisable for this sport.

What do you think of James A. Cruikshank's encouraging women to take up ice skating? Did you ice skate as a kid? Do you still?

Stay tuned next week for our next chapter.

​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Today's Media Monday is a great story about being stranded on the Newburgh Beacon Ferry! When the weather gets colder, most boat traffic on the Hudson River ceases, except for commercial traffic in the shipping channel, which today is kept open by Coast Guard icebreakers. 

​Most historic boat traffic on the Hudson River was seasonal, too, mostly because the Coast Guard icebreakers are a 20th century invention. Because they traveled the same space frequently, most ferries tried to stay in service as long as possible in the days before bridges, and they were often the last vessels on the river each year. But it didn't always work out so well! Listen below for the full tale.

Brief summary: In the early 1950's, the Ferry got stuck in the ice on its 11:30 PM return trip to Beacon. Betty Carey remembers the story of one passenger who was stranded on the boat until rescued the next morning.

Have you ever gotten stranded because of snow or ice? 

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Editor's Note: The following is a verbatim transcription of a chapter from Spalding's Winter Sports by James A. Cruikshank, published in 1917 and part of the Ray Ruge Collection at the Hudson River Maritime Museum. Many thanks to volunteer Adam Kaplan for transcribing this booklet. 

Pry yourself away from that steam radiator some snowy day and take a winter walk! Put behind you the mellow charm of the open fire; it will be even more delightful when you return. Hunt up a few old togs, woolen underwear, close woven woolen suit, heavy sweater, mittens, cap with ear tabs, and heavy waterproof shoes and sally forth on the quest for a new sensation. Never mind that overcoat; you will never miss it after that first half mile. And don’t forget to stuff a few crackers in your pocket for that utterly unexpected hunger which will be waiting your arrival somewhere along the road. Now, strike out!

Immediately after warming up with the vigorous exercise, you feel perfectly sure that there is some sort of curious exhilaration which the air of summer never furnishes. Your imagination is not fooling you. There is one-seventh more oxygen in cold winter air than in warm summer air. That is the reason the “fire burns brighter.” And by the same token every human faculty is keener and sharper. Incidentally the falling snow carries to earth with it all floating impurities and you breathe the purest air to be found at any time of the year.

You have made but a few rods when you discover that snow is the greatest artist of nature. That unsightly shack which so distressed you, has taken on forms of unknown beauty; even that ash heap, eyesore that it was, now furnishes curves of unsullied purity; the snow, like a mantle of charity, has transformed the ugly into the beautiful. Nor is its gift to the world merely pictorial. It is nature’s warm blanket. This cold, frozen thing saves the wheat and the grain from freezing; fills up the chinks between ground and farmhouse, window and frame and makes the home warmer than it was before.

Close to your home, no matter where you live, the records on the snow will be found interesting and fascinating. The average city park is full of their strange story. To the open mind of the nature-lover they start all sorts of interesting speculations. Mouse, sparrow, squirrel, rabbit, fox, dog- which are they and what story do they tell?

You may even find pathetic tragedies writ clear in the snow, if only you have learned to read the winter book of nature. Here see the wide sweeping record of the wings of an owl as they touched the snow on either side of the tiny tracks of a mouse. Then the prints of the wings become deeper and clearer, and here, where a little tuft of bloody fur is found, and the snow is beaten down all about, the trail suddenly ends. Perhaps the story of the fox that dined upon squirrel or partridge is spread out there full upon the ermine page of nature. Here, indeed, is a new chapter in your reading of nature’s secrets; it is stranger than any fiction and dramatic as a novel.

Then sunset across the fields of white, nowhere more exquisitely beautiful. Great bloody stabs of crimson athwart the western sky. The very “souls of the trees,” as Holmes called them, when freed of their summer bodies. Across the tiny brook hurrying to sea under its arching canopy of snow-laden willow and alder. Then the open fire! No blaze so bright, no cheer so real as that which greets a winter rover fresh from a brave little ramble over the fresh snow.

​Take a winter walk!

Stay tuned next week for the next chapter of ​Spalding's Winter Sports.

If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Today's Media Monday post is another teaser trailer for our forthcoming documentary film, "Seven Sentinels: Lighthouses of the Hudson River." The museum is crowdfunding for this film on Indiegogo, so help us make it a reality and get some really cool perks in return. We have made significant progress toward our goal - will you help us reach it before January 13?

"Ice Guardians" is a teaser trailer look at some of the amazing footage filmmaker Jeff Mertz got of the Hudson-Athens, Rondout, and Esopus Meadows Lighthouses last winter. As we approach the holiday season, it seemed apt to share the icy beauty with everyone. The drone footage also reveals how isolating life at a lighthouse in winter could be, and how the lighthouses themselves needed to be protected from the heavy floes of ice. 

If you missed the first trailer, catch up below! 

We have already received dozens of individual donations, as well as support from Ulster Savings Bank, Rondout Savings Bank, and Ulster County Cultural Services & Promotion Fund administered by Arts Mid-Hudson. But we've still got a ways to go before we reach our goal, and just under a month to do it in. 

You can help by liking, commenting on, and sharing our social media posts, YouTube videos, and this blog post. 

If you'd like to do more to help, you can join our individual fundraiser contest, where you can get credit for donations from family and friends on Facebook and other platforms. Check out our latest campaign update to learn more. You can earn the same perks as higher level backers. 

And, if you'd like to donate to the film but don't want to do so online, you can always mail us a check! Send it to the Hudson River Maritime Museum, 50 Rondout Landing, Kingston, NY 12401 and write "Seven Sentinels" or "lighthouse film" in the check memo line. 

The Spalding Athletic Library and the American Sports Publishing Company were both founded by A.G. Spalding, owner of Spalding's Athletic Goods. Designed to produce affordable books on a wide variety of sports, rule books, and others, Spalding's conveniently included related catalogs and order forms for their goods in each inexpensive booklet. 

Published in 1917 and written by outdoor sports expert and author James A. Cruikshank, Spalding's Winter Sports is our featured artifact of the day, acquired by the Hudson River Maritime Museum as part of a collection of ice boating materials. And thanks to the transcription skills of volunteer Adam Kaplan, we'll be serializing each chapter of Winter Sports for the next several weeks. 

If you'd like to see the other sports booklets that Spalding offered (and there were hundreds), you can see some of their works digitized at the Library of Congress.

The booklet features short articles on skating, skiing, snowshoeing, ice boating, tobogganing, hockey, and more. Be sure to join our mailing list to get updates and make sure you don't miss a chapter! The introduction starts below.

Winter sports are now a most important feature of the outdoor life of the northern half of the world. During the past ten years there has been a complete change in the attitude of the sport-loving folk of northern nations toward what was once regarded as the least interesting outdoor season of the year. Now, there are great numbers of experienced outdoor folks, familiar with the sports of the world, who do not hesitate to claim that the outdoor sports of the winter, in cold, snowy latitudes, are incomparably the most fascinating as well as the most beneficial pastimes of the four seasons. The enthusiasm of these new champions of winter is making itself felt all over the world; but especially in the United States, where outdoor sport of every kind is now enjoying the zenith of its popularity, and where there is constant demand for some new form of outdoor pastime, has the charm of the new outings on snow and ice made special appeal.

Many of the most thrilling sports of the year are found among the winter pastimes. Ice Yachting knows no second for sensational features; Ski Jumping from a take-off rivals aeroplaning with its danger; Hockey is one of the most spectacular games in the whole realm of sport; and the list might be indefinitely extended. For the seeker after other forms of winter entertainment out of doors, there is to be found almost everything that could be asked from the quaint curling game of the cannie Scot to a snowshoe hunt for wolves in Canadian white silences. And for the lover of nature, in all her varied forms, there are winter beauties which rival those of summer.

​To stimulate interest in the charm of winter in the north, and to provide helpful information as to how some of the best winter sports may be enjoyed, is the purpose of this little book.

Author James A. Cruikshank was a longtime New York resident and was an expert outdoorsman, writing and editing publications for American Angler magazine, Field and Stream, and more, as well as authoring books like Spalding's Winter Sports. He hiked, hunted, fished, boated, snowshoed, skied, ice skated, mountain climbed, camped, and more. He was also an avid photographer and gave public talks illustrated by his own photographs (which are also featured in "Spalding's Winter Sports") and even film reels. You can read a more extensive biography of him below.

Stay tuned next week for the next chapter in ​Spalding's Winter Sports (1917)!

​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Editor’s Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article featuring stories by Captain William O. Benson (1911-1986). Beginning in 1971, Benson, a retired tugboat captain, reminisced about his 40 years on the Hudson River in a regular column for the Kingston (NY) Freeman’s Sunday Tempo magazine. Captain Benson's articles were compiled and transcribed by HRMM volunteer Carl Mayer. See more of Captain Benson’s articles here. This article was originally published December 12, 1971.

Back in the days before boatmen were unionized, steamboatmen would go to work as soon as the ice broke up in the spring and work continuously until their boat was layed up when the river froze over in December.

In those days of long ago, almost all of the steamboats had wooden hulls and as soon as the river would freeze, all navigation would cease. The ice would raise havoc with those wooden hulls. New ice in particular was dangerous. It would be as sharp as a knife and as a steamboat went through the new ice, the ice would take the caulking right out of the seams and cause the hull to leak.

When I was a deckhand on the tugboat “S. L. Crosby” of the Cornell Steamboat Company in 1930, I recall Harry Conley, the pilot, telling me about the time in the 1890’s when he was quartermaster on the “City of Troy,” one of the steamboats between New York and Troy.
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When the first snow of the season would come, the crew would be happy because they knew then that it wouldn’t be long before the ice would be forming and the “City of Troy” would be laying up for the winter. After the men had been working since early spring, with no time off, they would welcome their winter time vacation.

He would tell me how with the first real cold snap, they would leave Troy and the crew would listen for the first sounds of fine ice forming. On a still, bitter cold, clear December night you can hear the snap and crackle of the new ice. It is a sound a boatman never forgets. Generally, the new ice would begin to first form in the river around Esopus Meadows Lighthouse.

Then, the crew would be all smiles, knowing in a few days orders would come for the last trip of the season and the “City of Troy” and the crew would have a two or three months rest. The would go home, Harry to Schodack with about one hundred dollars saved from his wages and live real good. During the winter, most of them would work at one of the ice houses, harvesting the winter’s crop of ice.

I still look forward to the first snow of the season, despite the fact today the tugboats all have steel hulls and many work all winter long.

How different the river shores look all covered with the first snowfall. It seems like only yesterday the wild flowers and purple loose leaf were blooming all along the up river shore line. Now everything looks cold and bleak.

With snow on the shores and hills, one can see paths going up from the river that you cannot see in the summer when the foliage is thick on the trees. Also houses and stone walls stand out in startling clarity. How a snow storm changes the landscape into a wonderland when the river becomes locked in winter’s cold embrace!
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The first snow storm also changes other things. A few years ago I remember leaving Coeymans right after the first snow. As we were leaving, my deckhand said, “Bill, this sure makes us think what we did with our summer earnings, doesn’t it?”

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On Saturday we featured a historic wooden sign from the Newburgh Ferry Terminal. Today, for Media Monday, we're sharing some stories from the ferry.

This first story, from the Sound & Story Project, tells of what happened when the ferry encountered some ice.

To hear what the ferry might have sounded like traveling through the ice, check out this historic recording from Conrad Milster, who recorded the ferry Dutchess​ traveling through the ice. 

The Newburgh-Beacon ferry ceased operation in 1963 with the opening of the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge, but was revived in 2006 as a commuter ferry for residents traveling to the Beacon train station. 

Have you ever traveled on the Newburgh-Beacon ferry, either the original or the new one? Tell us about your experiences in the comments!

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