2006 05 Gymnastics

Gymnastics

I did the splits! Wow, that made me feel good. It was at the YMCA camp Gualala far up the California coast on the beautiful Gualala River. That river is the only un-dammed river leading into the Pacific Ocean. It hosts old growth redwood trees spanning several millennia. And I did the splits! I was about nine years old.
The focus of the camp was not only fun, but gymnastics. Two of the kindly men who helped in the gymnastics program were “Doc” Watts and Ernie Marinoni. I’m not sure if they volunteered their time or were paid. Perhaps it was a bit of both. To get to Gualala, we were loaded into school busses. Leaving Berkeley early in the morning, we rode the bus on progressively narrower and windier roads for almost five hours. I had not been to camp before, so was not sure what to expect. We had counselors who were probably ten years older than we, but full of life and energy.
High on the steep river bank, rustic cabins provided our shelter. Across the river the mountain sloped precipitously into the river so no buildings could be built on that side. The big windows in our cabin which overlooked the river needed no curtains as they afforded the privacy of the wilderness. There were eight beds to a cabin—four bunks top and bottom. The mattresses had plastic lining to take care of the inevitable bed wetting which some young campers experienced. The top bunks were preferred for those who did not sleep walk. We had sleeping bags of the Kapok type which were designed for cool evenings, but not for cold. The summer was typical for coastal California with no rain, but a bit of morning overcast.
Contests between the cabin groups were held to determine who kept their cabin the neatest. Our cabin worked hard to line the paths with various rocks and other objects to make it appear neat and tidy. I don’t remember winning any prizes, but we took pride in the process. Points were awarded for the best camp spirit, cleanliness, or other motivating activities.
Crossing the Gualala river was a swinging suspension bridge. It was a little scary at first since no footing seemed stable enough. Of course we kids wanted to make it bounce up and down and side to side even though such activities were prohibited. The bridge was attached by two inch cables to tall redwood trees on either side of the river. It spans about two hundred feet roughly twenty five feet above the river bed. On the other side were additional cabins. Also across the river was a tree marked “oldest tree”—estimated at over two thousand years old. It is truly amazing to see the scars of previous forest fires which darkened the bark, but did not kill the trees. Several trees had fallen which enabled us to try to count the numerous rings to estimate the age. More than one such tree was over eight feet in diameter. There was a flat grassy area for volleyball, basketball, a rifle range and archery range. Yes, in those days, just a decade after World War II they did encourage young people to know how to safely shoot both bow and arrows and rifles.
In addition to the redwood trees, several factors make the location of Camp Gualala special. It is nine miles from the Pacific Coast. Therefore the morning overcast common right at the shoreline does not reach the camp site too often. The summer weather is ideal with warm (not hot) days and cool nights. The bend in the river is important because of the deep pool which has formed a natural swimming hole among the rocks. It was there that we had swimming instruction and play time. I was used to cold water since I learned to swim in Lake Tahoe’s frigid snowmelt waters. The warm afternoons made the Gualala water quite refreshing by comparison.
Now almost fifty years later I have returned to Camp Gualala regularly with the Kiwanis Club of Berkeley. We have done a number of volunteer work projects over the last ten or more years. Some of our Kiwanis activities included refurbishing the bathrooms, building and repairing decks, renovating the cistern roof, adding curtains to the cabins, repairing the bridge and trails leading down to the bridge. . Going back with Kiwanis has brought back several of the gymnastics memories I had forgotten.
Many gymnastics moves require you to turn your body to the left or the right. I distinctly remember Doc Watts asking, “Frank, are you left footed or right footed?” I responded, “I don’t know”. He then patiently explained that when you do a cartwheel, you must face left or right and start with either your left or right hand on the mat. So when you run to get momentum you’ll need to take off on either the left foot or right foot. It turns out I’m right handed, but left footed. So I am more comfortable facing to the right on a cartwheel and starting with my left hand. Later we tried doing cartwheels and round-offs on the other side as well but it never felt as comfortable.
Floor exercises are the heart of gymnastics. All the other apparatus required turning, flipping and strength skills learned on the floor. In those days, the mats were of a type which had a bit of give but no springs such as are used in gymnastics today. In order to perfect our flips on the floor exercises, the trampoline was used. That was one of our favorite activities, since it gave us the feeling of immense power. A little vertical motion would send us flying high into the air. At first we’d do the stand to sit routine. Later we’d flip forward or backward, landing either on our feet, butt, stomach or back. We were always spotted on the trampoline. The really good gymnasts could even do a double flip which we just thought was incredible in 1958.
Unlike the trampoline, the floor exercise mats were unforgiving. Therefore, cartwheels and flips were limited by the momentum you could convert from horizontal to vertical through running and punching the mat with your hands or feet. We learned to do round-offs, back flips and forward flips in floor exercises. We also learned the “scale”, balancing in good form on one foot. Another success on the floor was the flying front somersault. That is a diving forward roll which looks scary at first, but when you try it, you realize that most of the energy is absorbed by your hands and arms and not by your head and neck. When we finally learned a “kip” we felt we had really accomplished something special. The kip is a move where you are laying with your back on the mat in a pike position. By quickly whipping your legs in an arching motion your torso snaps upwards. You end on your feet in a standing position with one easy-looking move. That motion is used on the high bar, the parallel bars and the still rings as well.
Still Rings were the epitome of upper body strength and flexibility. We’d do flips through the rings and even tried to pull up by swinging our bodies through the rings so we’d be high up in the air with our hands at waist level. Once we managed to do that trick, we felt on top of the world looking down at all the other boys and apparatus below. But then we had to let ourselves down, sometimes with almost disastrous results. Doc Watts was always there to spot us in case we let go in the wrong way.
In those days, we wanted to make the rings swing. However, safety minded gymnastics officials discontinued the use of flying rings as an official sport. The reason given was that the velocities developed were way too high and caused serious injuries. When we could, we tried to bring the sport back, but that was only when Doc and Ernie were looking the other way! Where would the liability lawyers be today with that?
The parallel bars were also great upper body builders. We’d swing between the bars, and go up into hand stands. The dismounts were the fun part of the P-bars. We could flip off the bars and land on the side. Really good gymnasts could even do a twist in the dismount. That was really cool, especially if they “stuck” the dismount without taking a step. Again, Doc and Ernie were there to spot us as we tried new things.
Another upper body builder was the pommel horse, a leather covered piece of equipment with two handles. That was one device I never liked very much. We’d swing back and forth getting our legs as high as we could. Toe pointing was a big part of gymnastics and nowhere was it more important than on the pommel. I didn’t see the point. Nowadays they use a “mushroom” device for the younger athletes which is easier for them to swing their legs around.
The horizontal bar, known by gymnasts as the high bar, is a real kick. By swinging back and forth, then piking your legs at just the right moment, you can easily throw yourself up and onto the top of the bar. The first time I did that, I remember how thrilling it was to be up on top looking down. Now gymnasts do all manner of release moves, twists and flips while rotating at high velocity around this flexible piece of metal rod. Most impressive are the “blind” release moves above the bar. With the weight of muscle in the lower body moving upward and the release of the hands at just the right split second, the gymnast literally flies over the bar and comes down on the other side, catching the bar (or not). If you miss the bar coming down, you land flat on the mat with a gravity pull of about fifteen feet. It’s really hard for a parent to watch a young gymnast try these events, since leading up to success are many failures.
An event which has now been discontinued in gymnastic competition is the rope climb. A large diameter rope (perhaps about an inch and a half) was suspended from the gym ceiling. Near the top was a large flat disk with a hole allowing the rope to pass through. This disk was the target. The gymnast was required to climb the rope as quickly as possible using hands and arms only. So with legs swinging back and forth in a left-right rhythm, we’d pull ourselves up to the top. At first it was really hard and we’d wrap our legs around the rope to support or rest on the way up. Later we were able to climb without the leg support. Once we touched the top, we would slide down like a fire pole with the rope slipping through our legs and hands. The event was judged by how many times your legs touched the rope as well as the time it took you to touch the disk at the top.
The vault used a leather “horse” similar to the pommel, but without the handles. The idea was to run the length of the room at full velocity, hit a springboard (like an angled mini-trampoline in those days), put your hands on the horse and dismount onto the mat without extra steps. The whole event from start to finish took less than eight seconds with the actual springboard-to-landing taking about two seconds. A lot could happen in that short time. First of all, you had to hit the springboard in full stride. To accomplish that, you had to start on the correct foot and take the exact same number of steps each time. Then, once you were flying in the air, you needed to place your hands properly on the horse while you remembered to point your toes. Finally, the dismount required stopping all horizontal velocity in an instant. The trick there was to land with the correct angle so that your body would end up vertical. Then to practice again, you had to walk the length of the runway, wait your turn and try again. The horse could either be placed across the runway for beginners or lengthwise for the more advanced boys.
Chalk was what we used on our hands to get good grips on the equipment. It came in powered form and we’d love to dip our hands in the chalk and them clap them creating a big cloud of chalk dust. No one ever questioned whether chalk was good for our lungs, but we must have inhaled a fair amount of it in the years we worked out in the gym.
One memory of my time in gymnastics was a competition. I must have been about junior high school age and was one of about eight boys who were invited to a competition in Southern California. Doc Watts and Ernie Marinoni drove about eight of us from Berkeley to Santa Monica. The trip took about eight hours and we stayed at host’s homes Saturday night. Sunday morning was the competition with scoring about which I remember virtually nothing. But the trip home was memorable. I was riding with Ernie and he was following Doc. When Doc changed lanes, so did Ernie. That is until red lights flashed and the siren sounded behind us. Ernie dutifully pulled over and Doc went on ahead, stopping about a mile ahead. The Highway patrolman reminded Ernie with a citation that he was not to try to caravan with another car. We youth were very excited by the incident.
A story about gymnastics would not be complete without mention of our son E. From the age of about six, we took E to a gym on the Cal Campus for a program called Golden Bear Gymnastics. He took to the sport, worked diligently at it and even competed at the National Level in Junior Boys competitions, doing reasonably well. He even chose his college campus in part because of their gymnastics program. Unfortunately, they cut gymnastics from their offerings during his final year when he would likely have been able to contribute meaningfully to the team as a senior. I rarely mentioned my own gymnastics experiences to him, but did enjoy watching his progression to excellence in the sport.

©Frank Bliss 2006 All rights reserved
May, 2006