COASTING ON PONKAPOAG 321 



This Yankee Casablanca, or whatever he ought 

 to be called, I myself knew after he had reached 

 years of middle life and I dare say discretion. I 

 remember well his breadth of back and depth of 

 chest, and I think it quite true that he once lifted 

 a barrel of flour in his teeth, but whether he got 

 his start in physical strength steering that Pon- 

 kapoag-invented double-runner down the long 

 hill, or whether he had to have the strength in- 

 born in the first place to be able to do it, I cannot 

 say. 



They have a wonderful curve over at St. 

 Moritz known as the "Cresta Run,'' 1320 yards 

 long and abounding in hair-raising thrills from 

 start to finish. Hardly has the rider, lying prone 

 on his steel-skeleton flyer, got under good head- 

 way before he comes to the "church leap." Here 

 a swinging descent shoots him into a double 

 compound curve where he must flash to the 

 left and again to the right in letter S fashion, 

 helped to be sure, by raised banks on either side 

 as he needs them. The banks help, but it takes 

 lightning combinations of wisdom, skill and 

 strength to make the turns in safety for all that, 

 nor does he have a chance for a long breath be- 



