Playing golf with bows and arrows, instead of the usual clubs and balls, is the latest diversion in the sporting world. Golfers of no mean ability have been defeated by as many as 20 strokes in contests with archers who shoot arrows from the tees to the cups. With the bow and arrow, “drives” of 250 and 300 yards are said to be a common occurrence, while the accuracy of approach to the greens would make any golfer envious. One thing is certain, any archer making the rounds of a course is never troubled by the “ball” overrunning the putting green. Neither do wet greens and fairways, nor the scientifically placed bunkers and traps, prove a hindrance to his game, or to the serenity of his temper.

The Bicycle Comes Back (Jul, 1936)

The Bicycle Comes Back

In amazing revival of fad of the nineties

By John E. Lodge

THE bicycle is back. Four million Americans now pedal along streets and highways. And, last year, factories in the United States turned out 750,000 machines, nearly equaling the peak production of the gay nineties. News items from all parts of the country tell the story of this dramatic boom in popularity.

In Chicago, Ill., for instance, 165,000 persons recently signed a petition asking for cycling paths to be constructed in the city parks. In Washington, D. C, a huge crowd of enthusiastic spectators, last winter, braved frigid winds for hours to watch an amateur bike race. From coast to coast, cycling clubs are i springing up. The veteran League of American Wheelmen has come back to life. The Amateur Bicycle League of America has approximately ninety affiliated clubs; the Century Road Club, promoting amateur races, has twenty-five or thirty, and there are upwards of 300 unassociated clubs in the country.


This looks like it would be a blast. Although it does seem like you might eventually cut a large circle in the ice.



EXHILARATING sport is furnished open-air enthusiasts by the novel ice merry-go-round described in this article. The device, although it reminds one of an ice boat, is, however, a new departure in ice coasting, the novelty consisting in the fact that the merry-go-round, which is itself stationary, swings the riders, who are carried on sleds, in circles around it. When desired, the cord or rope that holds the sled to one of the revolving arms, is released, and the sled with its rider is sent flying off over the ice. With a good breeze blowing, the merry-go-round revolves with considerable speed, yet is perfectly safe, if constructed according to the instructions. It can be built by anyone who has some knowledge of tools and how to use them, and who possesses enough ingenuity for details of construction.


THE thrills of ice skating and tennis have been combined by outdoor enthusiasts of a club near Glencoe, Ill. Mapping off a court and erecting a net on an ice pond near by, the members have inaugurated tennis on skates— an adaptation of the old sport that, according to some, furnishes even more opportunity for spectacular playing and excitement. It is expected that the idea will be imitated by many clubs throughout the country.

Throwing Knives at Target Is Novel Sport (May, 1933)

Throwing Knives at Target Is Novel Sport

KNIFE throwing is an inexpensive, exciting game of skill in which all ages and both sexes can participate. It has something of the novelty and thrill of the circus and never gets monotonous. The equipment can be set up in the cellar in an evening. It consists of an old chopping block, three knives (ours cost 19 cents each), a small roll of tire tape, rag bags, two boards, nails, and a little paint. The total cost is less than a dollar.

Harpoonists Spear Flying Fish by Searchlight off Catalina (Nov, 1934)

Harpoonists Spear Flying Fish by Searchlight off Catalina
OFF Catalina Island, “where the flying fishes play,” outdoor men and women have invented a new and fascinating sport.

Powerful searchlights are mounted in the bows of sea-going speedboats. As the sturdy craft cleave the waves, huge swarms of flying fish rise like enormous sea moths into the rays of the brilliant lights which cut through the darkness.

Armed with short harpoons, to which a retrieving cord is attached, men and women crowd the rails of the speedboat. A quick thrust of the harpoon, and the flying quarry is bagged in mid air by the skill of the fisherman-hunter.

The fish are good eating and their filmy wings are used for a variety of decorative purposes.

“Splashketball” (Sep, 1948)

Among the latest sports in swimming pools is “splashketball,” a rough-and-tumble game that combines water polo with basketball. Teams of four men each attempt by swimming, jumping and splashing to put the ball through a movable basket. The basket is attached to the goalie by a life preserver, and goalies are allowed to move anywhere in the pool. Excitement comes when a player attempts to make a basket while the goalie tries to avoid him. The players wear caps to identify their teammates.


American boys wait for a good snowfall to get out their sleds, but any day is a good day for coasting, in New Zealand. Snow is a rarity in the even, bracing climate of the islands, so the youngsters do the next best thing and coast on mud! Wooden sleds are used, and a bare slope is flooded with water for the sport. Frequent wettings keep the sun from drying up the course.



OOPS! Total victory is rare in this sport for flipping an opponent usually means loss of your own balance. Jousters use 10-ft., rubber-tipped aluminum poles and the tippy floats are truck inner tubes topped with 3/4-in. plywood. The Johnson Outboard Motors crew staged this upset in motel pool at Cypress Gardens, Fla.

FLOATS are spaced 10 ft. apart on centers and moored out in the middle of the pool where skulls stay intact

ROPE lacings secure disks to tubes. A rubber ball fits snugly into toilet plunger on each pole, is held by tape.

Return of the Giant Killer (Apr, 1951)

Return of the Giant Killer

When David bagged Goliath, the slingshot was a murderous device—now it’s coming back as a weapon for sportsmen.

By Robert Hertzberg

THE man in the bright red shirt strode past the big “No Hunting” sign and knocked on the door of the farmhouse. As the farmer stepped into view, the man said, “May I hunt on your property. . .”

“No!” interrupted the farmer. “Can’t you read signs?”

The would-be hunter reached into his pocket and held up a shiny, fork-shaped object.

“… with this weapon?”

The farmer stared and then burst into laughter. “Sure, you can hunt all you want on my land with that thing. If you bag an elephant, just leave me half.”

“That thing” was one of John Milligan’s Specials, a seven-ounce aluminum alloy slingshot powered by a pair of gum-rubber bands 11 inches long. Milligan didn’t get an elephant because elephants don’t run wild in Detroit, but that day he settled for two pheasants and a rabbit. Believe it or not, his total bag for the season was six pheasants, 14 squirrels, 18 rabbits and 4 coons. Could you have done as well with shotgun or rifle?