An Exploration into the Application of Urban Sociological Concepts to a Selection of Outdoor Recreational Activities
Originally published in 2011
For this article we’ll be traveling back to the southeastern BC wilderness. This region is a magnet and a breeding ground for thrill seeking enthusiasts of all ages. I interviewed a selection of people who live in or moved to this area because of their love for a particular outdoor activity. Their motivation for engaging in these activities is complicated and will not be the focus here. Suffice it to say that for most of the people I talked to it is all encompassing and integral to their sense of personal identity. These activities form frameworks that shape the lifestyles of the participants, making countercultures that have their own social institutions. Their lives literally revolve around these pursuits, and the time they are not so engaged is spent preparing or enabling the time they are. Some of the people I interviewed had left lucrative careers in large metropolises for low-paying local jobs to live here and devote their lives to the activities they loved. For many it was akin to a religious or spiritual journey as much as a physical one. As a result of the personal significance of the activity, the gear that enables it becomes charged with multiple levels of meaning, significance, and symbolism. I wanted to explore this further. Is it the same for all sports, i.e. do snowmobilers feel the same level of connection with their snowmobiles as skiers do with their skis? How far does this sphere of gear extend and does it include things like casual clothes as well as necessary equipment? What do particular pieces symbolize for each individual? The following is a breakdown of three of the main activities in this area, including the demographic make-up of the participants and the types of necessary and peripheral equipment for each. I will also examine the unique ways each group relates to their gear and how far the “sphere of gear” penetrates into their lives.
Backcountry Snowmobiling
Backcountry Snowmobiling involves riding heavily modified snowmobiles in remote mountainous areas. The main segments represented here are hill-climbing or “high-marking”, where riders compete to see who can ride up the steepest hills and narrowest chutes, and moto-cross style jumping.
Average age: 43
75% male, 25% female
Primary Equipment: snowmobile
Secondary Equipment: outerwear, thermal underwear, helmet, boots, goggles, safety gear, backpacks
Peripheral Equipment: truck/trailer, music players, sunglasses, specialty tools, casual clothing, water bottles
Snowmobilers tended to be the conservatives of the bunch; for the most part older, whiter, and male-er, usually with families and stable jobs. Part of this may result from the high costs involved; a new snowmobile can cost upwards of $15,000USD and a truck/trailer is needed to haul it, with all the additional fuel and running costs that entails. The other reason may come from background; those who identified themselves as snowmobilers (sledders) often had parents who were enthusiasts and had introduced them to it at a young age. The exception to this rule was snowboarders and skiers who have moved to sledding as a way to better access backcountry terrain, as these individuals are more similar to the typical snowboarder/skier described in the next section. Most sledders didn’t admit to feeling a “spiritual” connection to their snowmobiles or other equipment, but it was evident that their proficiency and involvement in the sport did shape some part of their self-image and identity. Most were finicky about keeping their sleds clean and adorned with the proper companies logos. That ethic also applied to the trucks, minus the clean bit. Casual clothing often came with the same logos, embroidered and silk-screened onto t-shirts, hooded sweatshirts, hats, and jackets. Jeans, snowpants, or long underwear on the rare occasion, made up the usual forms of leg wear. Attachment to and over-awareness of “accessories” like sunglasses or goggles or music players was often looked down upon as “girly” or feminine and downplayed amongst most sledders, possibly a reflection of the male dominated participation ratio and “macho” themes employed by most advertisers in the industry. However, this is undergoing a shift as rapidly growing numbers of females are becoming well-know big mountain sledders, showing younger generations of girls that sledding “isn’t just for the boys anymore”. Companies are responding with gender specific advertising and products, but as a whole the industry is more male dominated than either of the other two activities. Another growing segment in exception to the traditional idea of a sledder is the skier/snowboarder-turned-snowmobiler mentioned earlier. These individuals use the sleds primarily as a way to access better skiing/ snowboarding terrain and don’t engage much in “sled-culture”, though the occasional wayward soul has been known to cross over to the dark side.
Skiing/Snowboarding
Backcountry skiers/snowboarders use snowshoes or “skins” (Velcro-like covers for ski-bases that allow uphill travel without sliding) and free-heeled touring bindings to reach pristine areas of deep powdery snow and steep terrain, which they ride down as fast as possible. Jumping about is encouraged. There is a strong culture of documentation in these sports as well, many advanced enthusiasts film everything they do, and often won’t attempt especially difficult things if no cameras are rolling.
Average age: 36
55% male, 45% female
Primary Equipment: skis, poles, snowboard, bindings, boots
Secondary Equipment: outerwear, thermal underwear, helmet, boots, goggles, safety gear, snowshoes, skins, backpacks
Peripheral Equipment: truck/trailer, music players, sunglasses, specialty tools, casual clothing, water bottles
Though the average age of this segment was fairly high, it also had a great spread of ages, ranging from 16 to 65. User ratios of male to female are fairly equal, but most celebrity riders are still male. There were a wide variety of individuals represented, but two main subcultures emerged: the “soul riders” and the “go-pro” riders. The soul riders were most concerned about the act of skiing/snowboarding itself; the gear was important but only in that it allowed the experience. These riders felt a strong connection with their snowboard or skis, but it was more a connection with what it represented than the object itself. The peripheral gear was incidental, with a totally function-based aesthetic and used until completely worn out. An interesting and somewhat contradictory dynamic came up here, as in some cases the “battle-scars” or scuffs and patina that well-used equipment and garments accumulate from heavy use, became a fashion feature, or badge of honor that indicated a user’s dedication, sometimes gear past its prime would be kept in use because it had the “right” kind of wear. The “go-pro” riders were usually younger, either highly skilled or on their way to being highly skilled, and trying to work their way into the professional ranks of the sports. Though to be totally accurate, there were also a large segment of people imitating this look but unable to imitate the skill. For these riders, representing a sponsor and having the newest, most advanced gear was almost as important as the activity itself. Not to say they didn’t love what they do, but they loved it best when someone was filming them and they were decked out in bright and new equipment. This was a group where a certain amount of “gear-lust” showed up, where multiple snowboards (one for each type of riding or snow condition) might be displayed in a holding rack prominently in the living room, or carefully organized, dedicated closets full of color coordinated outerwear found in otherwise messy bedrooms.
Casual wear and accessory significance for both groups followed the style of their riding gear. Soul riders favored simple, traditional clothing, wool and long underwear with jeans, work pants, and boots or sneakers. Snowboard/ski brands didn’t have any greater prevalence than other brands. Go-pro types were the opposite, with sport-specific logos and branding splattered onto all available surfaces, and oddball color combinations and incongruous patterns and materials referencing the bright outerwear they would wear while riding. Music players, headphones, smartphones, laptops, cameras, each with its own special case, these were all essential parts of the look as well. Of the three activities, the “go-pro” types in this segment were the most overtly fashion conscious, devoting a great deal of attention to colors, styles, and overall image. The basis in this may lie in that professional snowboarders must always be aware of their gear/image because it is a representation of their sponsor, and as such must be current and “desirable”. It must also be bright to show up well in photos and film. These elements can denote a professional, and so those desiring that status imitated the look. This attention also spilled over in casual wear as well, and members of this segment were the most likely to label and/or exclude one another based on the quality, “current-ness”, and general style of primary and peripheral gear.
Sport Climbing
Climbing contains many divisions; from “bouldering” (climbing low rocks with no safety gear) and indoor climbing walls to “aid” or “trad”(itional) climbing (climbing isolated, expeditionary routes that sometimes require placement of equipment like ladders or ascenders to complete). The main segment I encountered in this area however, were “sport climbers”. These fall somewhere in the middle, generally climbing short, well-protected routes on easily accessible crags or at indoor climbing walls.
Average age: 24
55% male, 45% female
Primary Equipment: climbing shoes
Secondary Equipment: harness, ropes, chalkbag, carabiners, anchor gear, multi-pitch camping gear Peripheral Equipment: music players, sunglasses, specialty tools, casual clothing, water bottles
Climbing differed from the other two sports in a few ways, notably in that it required a partner (in its most basic definition: someone to hold onto the end of the rope that is attached to the climber and stop them from falling), that the cost of the gear required was much less (only due to its relative simplicity), and in the way a users life could literally depend on the quality of their gear. When a climber falls off a cliff, the two things keeping them from slamming into the ground are their gear and their partner. Understandably, both of these things become very important. This made climbers very aware of their gear, but it was an awareness solely of function and quality rather than fashion and perceived value. That is not to say that climbers didn’t suffer from a little gear-lust; the shiny, highly polished and anodized aluminum quick-draws, carabiners, cams, chocks, locks and blocks are tough to resist, and companies involved in the sport do their best to inflame the desire body of their audience. However, marketing tactics and hype generally don’t work on climbers well because they are not as vulnerable to the insecurities these methods rely on, as this quote from well-known climber and painter Robert Walton explains: “[Climbing] is a curiously gentle sport. Appreciation of partners, both their strengths and weaknesses, and communication with them, enable long-time practitioners of the sport to grow as human beings.” This other necessary aspect of climbing; a partner, made the ability to judge an- other’s competence based on their equipment fairly important to climbers. Assessing a climbing partner for suitability became a safety issue rather than just a personality issue as the climbers’ life is in the hands of the belayer (person on the grounding feeding out rope as the climber climbs and who holds them in the event of a fall). Experienced climbers tended to cultivate a certain gravitas and business- like manner that would quickly illustrate their competence to others. This acted as a way of broadcasting their place in the social stratus as well as showing their commit- ment to the social contract (in this context) of responsible and sober conduct. Both genders were well represented in climbing, and (somewhat in contrast to the other two sports) many said that women were the better, more efficient climbers in general. Manufacturing, advertising, and marketing all reflected this, with an almost equal division in products and both male and female high-profile celebrity climbers representing major companies.
The Gear
The umbrella of activities I looked at covers a wide variety, but one of the things that unified them was that they were all essentially deviations from “mainstream” culture, with their own unique set of socially transmitted traditions and norms, and in this they shared some similarities with the ethnic enclaves that often form in larger cities. Both provide a “haven” for similar people to escape a dominant culture that does not necessarily understand them. The transmission of the culture occurs in the same way as in most societies, with participants learning what was expected through im- mersion and by example, in the same way that children learn the customs of the society they are born into without being specifically told them. Another strong commonality between all the groups was the need for gear. In some cases (snowmobiling or skiing), the equipment defines the experience, with other activities (climbing) the gear serves to mediate the users interaction with the environment that provides the experience. In either case, there is often great significance placed on the objects that enable these experiences. Secondary items also can become important as well, either for what they represent (a climbing rope and safety) or as a reminder of past exploits (an old water bottle with stickers and scratches chronicling the adventures of the owner). Customization and personalization are constantly causing items to evolve, as people modify their gear to their tastes and companies pick up on grassroots trends to commercialize them. The trends come and go, the colors get brighter or duller, fits tighter or looser, but the gear itself remains constant and as long as a person loves to do something, they will also share some of that love with the thing that enables it. These activities illustrate an interesting angle on Ali Madanipour’s concept of individuals’ mental constructions of place evolving over time and use significance. For a beginner who is new to these sports and the experience of being in the wilderness, the sites where they engage in them feel unfamiliar, maybe even intimidating. Just as distinctive buildings or roadways serve as points of reference and allow familiarity within the vast urban setting, terrain features like cliffs and benches, slope angle, overhangs, cracks, or trees form the reference framework for the participants of these activities. A novice skier will focus on the areas they are comfortable skiing, a novice climber on the routes they feel confident attempting; these mental pictures make up the image of a place based on their skill. As their skill level progresses however, more advanced areas of terrain become part of the sphere of possibility, shifting their mental image of a place to include areas that weren’t emphasized before. This also relates to Kevin Lynch’s concept of imageability, or the degree to which objects/features become part of an individual’s internal construct of place.
The act of “gearing up” in preparation for a strenuous/dangerous/exciting activity is a primal ritual that connects us to our ancient ancestors and unifies all humans beyond superficial social and cultural differences. To the devoted, a snowboard is not just a snowboard, a climbing shoe not just footwear, and a snowmobile not just a machine. These become passports, representations of the transcendental states they allow the user to experience, on par with religious symbols like crosses, crescents or Tibetan prayer flags. Not mere inanimate objects, but physical manifestations of joy and freedom, embodiments of exaltation for the world we are lucky enough to inhabit. Following is another quote is from Walton, and again he is talking about climbing specifically but in my experience this is true for almost all outdoor enthusiasts. In the same way that inhabitants of a city block don’t own the street but rely on its proper functioning to survive and thus feel a responsibility to maintain its safety and “health”, people who rely on the proper functioning of nature for their spiritual sustenance feel an obligation to contribute to its health rather than be a detriment to it. “It is nearly impossible to partake of the mountains without wishing to preserve and protect them.”