Connie Jankoski, of New London, N.H. looks down the ice before releasing a stone during a learn to curl session at the Wendall A. Barwood Arena with the Upper Valley Curling and Woodstock Curling Club in White River Junction, Vt., on Tuesday, Jan.7, 2020. (Valley News - Jennifer Hauck) Copyright Valley News. May not be reprinted or used online without permission. Send requests to permission@vnews.com.
Connie Jankoski, of New London, N.H. looks down the ice before releasing a stone during a learn to curl session at the Wendall A. Barwood Arena with the Upper Valley Curling and Woodstock Curling Club in White River Junction, Vt., on Tuesday, Jan.7, 2020. (Valley News - Jennifer Hauck) Copyright Valley News. May not be reprinted or used online without permission. Send requests to permission@vnews.com. Credit: Valley News photographs — Jennifer Hauck

WHITE RIVER JUNCTION — I am walking onto the ice of Wendell A. Barwood Arena with gray New Balance sneakers on and thick elastic bands stretched around the balls of my feet for traction.

Please don’t fall, Pete.

There are a few good reasons why I shouldn’t fall at the moment. Ultimately, I’m a 23-year-old surrounded by a cast of characters from the Baby Boomer generation. If they don’t fall, there’s no reason I should. My friends will tell you, however, that I’m not the most coordinated human being.

Anyway, I continue to gingerly make my way onto the ice to begin one thing I was sure I’d never do when I took this job a little over four months ago: learn how to curl.

This wasn’t my idea. Blame it on my editor, Greg Fennell, for forcing you to look at a picture of me pushing around a curling stone and running down the ice to sweep its path.

For many Americans, curling is the sport to watch when the Winter Olympics roll around every four years. It looks fun and simple; the scoring seems easy enough to pick up quickly.

On Tuesday at WABA, curling was fun for me.

Simple? That’s pushing it.

Organized by the Upper Valley Curling Club and the Woodstock Curling Club, some kind folks take the time to teach a group of roughly 25 people how to curl.

Peter LaBelle, the instructor for my group of five, started us off with the basics of how to push the stone. I’m joined by Ib, Steve, Carole and Connie, four very nice people who didn’t have to put up with my shenanigans but did.

Settling into the starter’s box, somewhat like a track start, I lean down and grab the plastic stabilizer in my left hand. With my dominant right hand, I grip the stone. Completely made of granite and weighing 40 pounds, the rock must never go airborne and, with the right speed, can completely knock somebody off their feet.

As I rock my entire body back and release from the starter’s box, I can feel my upper body start to wobble as I attempt to get close to the ground and extend my right leg backward so I can have stability while I move forward. Trying to have a point of balance, I heave forward the rock and with it goes my stability.

My first fall of the day.

Curling began sometime in the mid-1500s in northern Europe when people threw stones over ice during the long, harsh winters as a way to pass time. The first time it was recognized as an Olympic sport was in 1924 in Chamonix, France.

Multiple appearances in the Olympics followed, but only as a demonstration sport. Not until 1998 at Nagano, Japan, was it officially agreed to become a regular part of programming.

In the Upper Valley, the Woodstock Curling Club was formed in January 2008. Through the help of Union Arena, the first winter was a success as a set of rocks was donated and two more were rented. As membership grew to surrounding towns in New Hampshire and Vermont, the decision was made to become Upper Valley Curling, which is the recognized name on all of their 501(c)(3) paperwork.

For my instructor, LaBelle, curling came into his life six or seven years ago when a friend invited him to an evening learn-to-curl event. Nowadays, he’s a certified instructor and plays a couple of times a week. He recently competed in a bonspiel — a curling tournament — down in Massachusetts.

He says that the club still has room to grow. They have the capacity to add more members, no matter their age. Finding ice time in the winter can be a pain, however, because hockey is king.

After I fall a few more times, LaBelle gives me — and our group — a break as we make our penguin-esque walk back to the lobby area at WABA. There we chomp down some doughnuts and go over the basics of how to sweep, the other vital part of curling.

If you sweep correctly, which I obviously did, it is strong and effective, significantly affecting the distance a rock travels on a shot. Two people are always sweeping; one person is in charge of the inside and the other outside.

You must never touch the stone, too. Keep this in mind.

So here I go, skipping down the ice, trying to keep pace with a stone that must be pushing 25 mph. The first time I take the job of outside duty, and the rock goes zooming past me.

The second time I take the inside and keep up with rock, no problem. At the other end of the ice, LaBelle screams, “Sweep!” which is my sign to put all of my effort into sweeping.

With my head completely down and all of my energy going into my broom, I rapidly sweep at the top layer of the ice to guide the path of the stone. I definitely made contact with it once or twice, which in a legitimate setting would’ve resulted in the rock’s disqualification.

But I’m not at the Olympics just yet.

Toward the end of our 2½-hour session, LaBelle and his counterpart, Jay Flanders, decide that we’ll try to play an end of curling, somewhat like an inning of baseball.

Since there were five people on our team — there are four on a regular team — I was designated to just shoot once and go last. Maybe it’s because I was just that good of a sweeper or because they wanted me to take the winning shot.

Down at the other end of the ice, where the ring of circles, called the house, is located, I help instruct my teammates where to aim their shots. The entire game is based on an in-depth strategy from how to block off your opponent’s shots and how many stones you can get to the middle of the house.

Finally, after directing and sweeping, it’s my turn to take the last shot between the two teams. Using the curling stick, which is simply an extension of your arm and a long stick that latches onto the rock, I send my stone down the sheet of ice toward the house.

When you let go of the stone, it should have moved from an angled direction to a straight direction, ultimately resulting in the stone actually making a curling motion. Instead, my stone flutters off to the right and never really curls. So, after the two-plus hour session of learning how to curl, I technically cannot curl.

Sigh. 

Still, it was a morning filled with new adventures. With some good laughs and a few people who I can hopefully can call new friends, it was a worthwhile outing. 

Note: The club hasn’t announced the next learn-to-curl event, but make sure to check out https://uppervalleycurling.org/ for more information.

Pete Nakos can be reached at pnakos@vnews.com.

Correction

This story has been updated with a correct weblink for the curling club.