Toboggan hill closure is justified
One of the great 20th-century philosophers of leisure was Bill Watterson, whose explorations of ideas came in the form of illustrated comic-strip dialogues between a boy named Calvin and his stuffed tiger, Hobbes.
In one strip, Calvin stands in the snow and says, “Behold the dreaded toboggan: suicide sled. Its unique design sends a blinding spray of snow on its passengers at the slightest bump. Note too, the lack of any steering mechanism. Yes, this sled is truly a hazard to life and limb.” The final panel shows boy and tiger speeding downhill on top of the toboggan, flying through after hitting a bump, covered entirely by snow, and shouting “WHEEE oomph! EEEEE.”
It’s less effective without the joyful illustrations, but it’s a perfect little observation about tobogganing: both obviously dangerous and ecstatically fun, the two aspects of the pastime inseparable from each other. The things that make it a little dangerous are precisely the things that make it such a euphoric activity.
Perceptive readers may wonder if I bring this up as a criticism of the city’s decision to close the toboggan hill at Riverdale Park for the season, as conditions there had become too dangerous. And I admit that was my plan.
That east hill on Broadview Ave., with its long, steep slope down into the Don Valley, is one of the things that makes winter in Toronto not just bearable but sometimes even joyful. It was my childhood local park and remains an unparalleled magnet for sledders from across the city. People enjoy it so much that they will endure the long, cold, often wet walk back up the slippery slope to do it again — and again, and again.
That it should be closed in the very same week that Toronto has the largest snowfall in years dumped on it seems particularly cruel. In this cold, trudging through waist-high snowbanks to dodge cars that navigate the roads with all the precision of children on a Slip ’N Slide, the prospect of getting out to toboggan at Riverdale might be one of the things you could count on to keep
you going. Just the thought of the wind in your face and the roller-coaster drop in your gut could be enough to warm your demeanour on the coldest days.
But not this week. Not for the rest of this year. You’ll have to settle for Withrow Park, or Birchmount, or Centennial, or Cedarvale.
At the top of the eastern hill at Riverdale, there are snow fences blocking access and signs alerting people to go somewhere else.
And as much as it feels natural to me to lash out at the killjoy fun police, it’s probably the right decision for this year. This is not, as one might initially suspect given generally observed bureaucratic tendencies, a pre-emptive shutting down of joyfulness for its own sake, but a reaction to the specific conditions this year that have produced uniquely dangerous ridges and drop offs.
The hill, I learn from a Joe Warmington column in the Toronto Sun, is actually built on a former landfill — I somehow missed out on a childhood of calling it “garbage mountain” — and that the soil shifting on top of it has begun to expose its underbelly of con- crete and plastic.
CBC reports that the city even called in a professional ski-hill consultant who agreed it was unsafe.
So, fair enough. The city will regrade the soil and prepare to reopen the hill for sledding next year. I still think it’s disappointing, but I’m not going to get into a rant about it.
In fact, it’s almost refreshing to dig into one of these stories and see that, for once, authorities are reacting to specific dangerous conditions rather than the vague worry about general legal liability.
I’ve written many times over the past five years about cities shutting down road hockey and toboggan hills and pond skating and playgrounds over the concern that someone will get hurt doing it and sue them.
That type of stuff is foolish. People assume certain risks to carry on activities: swimming can and does lead to drowning, driving can and does lead to crashes, skiing can and does lead to broken bones. You assume an obvious inherent risk when you climb a tree or go skating or hop onto a bike.
Cities should let you assume that risk without having to fear they’ll be held responsible for it. Unless, as appears might be the case with Riverdale Park this year, there are specific and unusual risks you might not be able to see — then a warning seems absolutely appropriate.
It seems as though Premier Doug Ford might be soon help make this point to municipalities by changing the liability laws that hold them responsible for 100 per cent of damages even in cases where they are found to be responsible for only 1 per cent of an accident. Ford specifically mentioned tobogganing and road hockey and snowmobiling when announcing his review of the laws to the Rural Ontario Municipal Association this week. Good for him.
Unstructured, unsupervised fun — in all seasons — is one of the things that makes life worth living. That’s true of tobogganing, of road hockey, of swimming, of all kinds of activities. There are risks to them, for sure. People choose to do them knowing well what the risks are. Because, as a wise comic character once put it, “WHEEE oomph! EEEEE.”
Sometimes, the things that make it risky are the things that make it worth doing. Our laws, and our municipal authorities, should reflect that.