Don’t lick that cold metal pole in winter—if you do, don’t panic

Cases of tundra tongue peaked in the 1950s, and several cases resulted from children reading a story about getting their tongue stuck and deciding to put that to the test – no doubt as part of a “triple dog dare”, much like Flick in A Christmas story. Almost all of the cases involved children aged 1 to 16 – 60% of them were boys – and almost all occurred outdoors, except for two cases: one involving an indoor refrigeration system and another where children were served ice cream preserved on dry ice, which then caused lacerations on the tongue. (The authors ironically described the latter as a “mass casualty event.”)

One of the most memorable cases was that of a young child whose tongue got stuck in a metal train track; Fortunately, the approaching train was able to change tracks in time and the boy finally broke free. The incident is reminiscent of an urban myth that circulated around 1927 about a man whose tongue got stuck on a railroad track in Indiana and was decapitated by an oncoming train.

Most remedies deployed in these cases involved the application of water (usually heated), but people also resorted to glycerol, coffee, whiskey, a penknife, a cigarette lighter, and hot denatured alcohol, as well as frequently calling the police or fire department. Typically, victims suffered minor bleeding and some pain, but there have been more serious cases that required hospital care, leading to stitches, risk of infection, facial scarring and even potential tongue amputation.

A delicate situation

However, when Jarmund reviewed the medical literature, he found very little experimental research into the actual dangers of tundra tongue. A tongue is known to stick to a cold metal surface because the saliva and moisture on the tongue freeze, forming an “ice bridge” between the two surfaces. But how much force is needed to detach a tongue? Is there an optimal temperature at which the risks of tundra tongue are greatest?