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From the Observer archive, 8 February 1959: Chris Brasher tackles the Cresta Run From the Observer archive, 8 February 1959: Chris Brasher tackles the Cresta Run
(7 months later)
The first time I didn't think I would survive. The most frightening thing is the noise. It sounds as if you are in the middle of a Goon Show sound effect or in a teashop with 100 tin trays crashing to the floor. There you are on a heavy steel toboggan lying flat on your stomach with your nose about six inches above the hard glinting ice and you are pounding downhill at a terrifying speed quite unable to stop. And you are utterly alone.The first time I didn't think I would survive. The most frightening thing is the noise. It sounds as if you are in the middle of a Goon Show sound effect or in a teashop with 100 tin trays crashing to the floor. There you are on a heavy steel toboggan lying flat on your stomach with your nose about six inches above the hard glinting ice and you are pounding downhill at a terrifying speed quite unable to stop. And you are utterly alone.
The Cresta Run must be one of the institutions that convinced foreigners that Englishmen are mad. It is a winding, precipitous, artificial gully of ice in a shady valley just outside St Moritz in Switzerland and it has never been so popular as it is now. It provides a glorious way of reviving one's boyhood when, on a homemade toboggan, one rocketed down the steepest snow-covered slopes. But the Cresta is much better than that.The Cresta Run must be one of the institutions that convinced foreigners that Englishmen are mad. It is a winding, precipitous, artificial gully of ice in a shady valley just outside St Moritz in Switzerland and it has never been so popular as it is now. It provides a glorious way of reviving one's boyhood when, on a homemade toboggan, one rocketed down the steepest snow-covered slopes. But the Cresta is much better than that.
Riding it for the first time is made bearable only by the matter of factness of the experts. "Just go down as slowly as you possibly can and you won't come to any harm."Riding it for the first time is made bearable only by the matter of factness of the experts. "Just go down as slowly as you possibly can and you won't come to any harm."
But when they start equipping you, you begin to wonder. Large boots set with jagged steel tips, called "rakes", like the wickedest gin-trap ever devised. Knee-pads and elbow-pads, a crash helmet and steel-backed mittens for your hands. You clump about like a medieval knight before a tournament. All this armour must be to protect you from something.But when they start equipping you, you begin to wonder. Large boots set with jagged steel tips, called "rakes", like the wickedest gin-trap ever devised. Knee-pads and elbow-pads, a crash helmet and steel-backed mittens for your hands. You clump about like a medieval knight before a tournament. All this armour must be to protect you from something.
"Next rider, Brasher," said the loudspeaker. Someone manhandled the heavy skeleton into the starting box. My coach, John Crammond, said: "Don't forget to rake all the way until you can see the finish and then you can lift off.""Next rider, Brasher," said the loudspeaker. Someone manhandled the heavy skeleton into the starting box. My coach, John Crammond, said: "Don't forget to rake all the way until you can see the finish and then you can lift off."
A ship's bell clanged, someone gave me a gentle push and the nose of the toboggan broke the wire that started the clocks. It was all very gentle. Slowly, it seemed, the first corner approached, then suddenly it was rushing at me and I was on my side hurtling in a new direction. Vertical ice ahead and the skeleton was out of control diving into the corner in a steep bank. My stomach looped the loop. I felt as if I was descending an ice-covered mountain pass in a car with the throttle stuck wide open and no brakes. The skeleton bounced from side to side and my steel-covered hands slithered down the ice walls. If it wasn't for the steel, the ice would peel off your gloves and then your skin.A ship's bell clanged, someone gave me a gentle push and the nose of the toboggan broke the wire that started the clocks. It was all very gentle. Slowly, it seemed, the first corner approached, then suddenly it was rushing at me and I was on my side hurtling in a new direction. Vertical ice ahead and the skeleton was out of control diving into the corner in a steep bank. My stomach looped the loop. I felt as if I was descending an ice-covered mountain pass in a car with the throttle stuck wide open and no brakes. The skeleton bounced from side to side and my steel-covered hands slithered down the ice walls. If it wasn't for the steel, the ice would peel off your gloves and then your skin.
I was going to die, I thought, when I hit the railway bridge ahead. The speed was mounting and there was only a small gap in the brickwork. I felt like the point of a piece of cotton about to be threaded through the eye of a needle, except that a miss would mean a gory mess on the bridge.I was going to die, I thought, when I hit the railway bridge ahead. The speed was mounting and there was only a small gap in the brickwork. I felt like the point of a piece of cotton about to be threaded through the eye of a needle, except that a miss would mean a gory mess on the bridge.
I dug my rakes into the ice but we seemed to increase speed. Then the skeleton was on its side again. We were through and the banking was throwing us into the next two corners. All the world was a blur and I hadn't any breath left. We hurtled into a dip, up the other side, banking steeply to the left, and then the skeleton was slowing down. It stopped. "Bloody ridiculous," I thought. "I've braked so hard I'll be the only man never to have finished the course."I dug my rakes into the ice but we seemed to increase speed. Then the skeleton was on its side again. We were through and the banking was throwing us into the next two corners. All the world was a blur and I hadn't any breath left. We hurtled into a dip, up the other side, banking steeply to the left, and then the skeleton was slowing down. It stopped. "Bloody ridiculous," I thought. "I've braked so hard I'll be the only man never to have finished the course."
"Brasher's time was 70.1 seconds," said the loudspeaker. Nino Bibbia and Colin Mitchell go down under 45."Brasher's time was 70.1 seconds," said the loudspeaker. Nino Bibbia and Colin Mitchell go down under 45.
This is an edited extractThis is an edited extract
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