Who needs brakes?

When flying down an icy slope at about 60 kilometres per hour on a sled made from steel, sweat and stone, it's best to make sure your brakes work.

Marc Greencorn and his team did not. Dressed in a white jumpsuit emblazoned with the Ghostbusters logo, he's got a front row seat as Team Pac-Man starts its run at the Edmonton Ski Club. The 300-some-pound concrete toboggan whips wildly from side to side as it cannons down the hill, spewing snow from its sides like a funny car spits flames, thrilling spectators before it smashes through the hay bales at the end of the course.

The rules say you need brakes, he quips after the run — they don't have to be good ones. "It was quite the rush," he says, out of breath. So, what was he thinking before he hit the bales? "Hope it doesn't hurt!"

Concrete craziness

Greencorn, a student at Dalhousie University, was one of several hundred post-secondary students from across Canada in Edmonton on Saturday for the 37th annual Great Northern Concrete Toboggan Race. The engineering event challenges students to make and race the fastest concrete sleds they can while keeping life and limb intact.

University of Alberta student Nigel Parker is co-chair of the event. Dressed in a brown-tasselled trapper hat and an emerald jersey with the race logo on it, he spends the day patrolling the hill, giving directions by megaphone and trying not to freeze in the -20 C weather.

Parker is a five-year veteran of the event and captain of last year's race winners, the Bananas in Pyjamas. He describes the race as a design challenge that lets you get experience, meet people and have fun.

The event itself started in 1974, Parker explains, when the American Concrete Institute asked some University of Calgary students why they had not entered the Concrete Canoe Challenge. "The students jokingly responded that it's a little hard to practice up here because the race happens in winter, and our water is a little hard then."

That joke inspired them to race concrete toboggans. They held their first competition the next year. This year's race features 21 teams from across Canada, Parker says. Each has to design and build a sled equipped with concrete runners, brakes, steering and a roll-cage with room for five, all without any outside help. Significantly, their sleds have to weigh less than 136 kilograms (300 pounds).

That's a huge challenge when it comes to concrete, he says. "Your standard concrete is about 2,300 kilograms per cubic metre," he notes, so you can't use much concrete. Most teams limit themselves to a few thin slabs that are a few centimetres thick.

"These sleds go upwards of 70 kilometres an hour," he notes, and carry about a tonne of weight. Add in a bumpy course, and it doesn't take much for the stone to shatter. Teams must use exotic substances to create concrete that is strong enough for the race yet light enough for the limit.

Sherlock meets Waldo

About 40 per cent of each team's score is based on the toboggan's design, Parker says. Teams show off their designs to the judges on Friday during the technical exhibition at the Edmonton Expo Centre.

Each team creates a goofy display and costumes to go with their sled. The result is something out of an insane asylum: you see soccer players playing catch with the Mario Brothers, Boy Scouts dancing with Dr. Seuss characters and the ever-elusive Waldo hanging with biker gangs.

The members of Team Sledimentary My Dear Watson dressed up in trench coats and deerstalkers and built a reproduction of the office of Sherlock Holmes with murder mystery included.

It's the case of the carriage-crasher, says team co-captain and University of Calgary student Anthony Ferrise. Their sled, which resembles a hansom, has crashed into Holmes's office and squashed Dr. Watson. Their fellow students must scour the exhibition hall for clues to figure out which team member did the dastardly deed.

The squad tapped Holmes for his iconic looks and character, says co-captain Allison Hofmann. "We like to do plays-on-words." For the sled, they poured cement over long black strands of basalt-reinforced liquorice-like plastic to give the feet extra strength.

Nearby is the University of Alberta's Team Sheep. Its ride, a white aluminium charger with a goofy sheep's head for a nosecone, sits on hay bales in front of a fake barn and numerous explanatory diagrams.

Attending it are Evan Houser and Maren Cowan of St. Albert. He's dressed as a sheep and she's a shepherd.

"Our sled this year is shaped like a snowmobile," Cowan notes, with two shoebox-sized skis in front and a wider slab in the back. It's got rack-and-pinion steering, a drop-brake and a padded roll cage, all for the low, low weight of just 111 kilograms.

The team managed to double the strength of last year's concrete by adding metal fibres to the mix. "It's very expensive concrete," Houser says.

The 52-member squad has put hundreds of hours into this ride since September, says captain Elaine Rippon. "It's a labour of love."

Race day

The race itself takes place on the toboggan hill Saturday at the Edmonton Ski Club. The students keep up a near-constant litany of chants.

The hill proves difficult. Many of the experimental craft flip on the way down or get stuck at the start. Brakes go off early or not at all.

A nasty rollover by Calgary's alumni team briefly stuns the crowd into silence as two of its riders struggle to get to their feet. Medics treat both on site and take them to hospital for observation.

Danger is an inherent part of the race, Parker says, which is why participants must sign waivers and wear motorcycle helmets. "It can happen and that's part of the risks involved."

Celebrities are another. CBC comedian Rick Mercer drops by and Team Sheep agrees to let him ride their sled. "I've certainly crashed a number of vehicles in my life," he says, "and they considered that when they welcomed me on board."

For the first run, the team puts him in the driver's seat. The craft swings wildly down the hill, dumps the brakeman halfway down and stalls a few feet short of the finish. They push it across.

The team realizes that they've bent the sled's left ski post. Several minutes of grinding and hammering later, it breaks completely. "Look what you did to our child," Rippon deadpans to the hammerer. "You murdered it." They switch to the spare.

Round two has Mercer as a passenger. Here, the craft slews drunkenly down the hill before rolling upside down. Camera crews swarm the site immediately.

It was a spectacular crash, Mercer says later. "As we were flipping over," he quips, "all I thought was that I was so glad I wasn't driving, since now my driving looked better."

The team did a bang-up job for designing a sled that didn't flip with him behind the wheel, he added.

The universities of Calgary, Queen's and Ryerson take first, second and third place in the race. Team Sheep doesn't reach the podium.

It was a day full of hiccups, Rippon says, but the team did great. "We might not have won first place, but we still had a lot of fun."

And that's what's really important. "It's four days out of the year you work for months and months for and if you're not enjoying it, what's the point?"

Full results are available at gnctr2011.com.

Photo gallery

View more photos of the race.