VICTORIA (CUP) -- Who knew ironing could be so much fun?

For the person who finds getting the wrinkles out of a dress shirt just a tad mundane, there is an adventure sport: It's called extreme ironing.

According to the Extreme Ironing Bureau (EIB), the international governing body for the sport, extreme ironing is “the latest danger sport that combines the thrills of an extreme outdoor activity with the satisfaction of a well pressed shirt.”

It can mean taking an iron and board to strange locations, such as the side of a mountain, and then ironing.

The sport first gained heat in England nearly a decade ago when Phil “Steam” Shaw returned home from work to a pile of ironing. There was one problem—Shaw didn't feel like ironing. In fact, he felt like rock climbing.

So Shaw ended up doing both at the same time, and extreme ironing was born.

The EIB estimates 1,000 extreme ironers worldwide take part in the sport.

They take their wrinkled clothes and ironing boards with them as they climb trees and mountains, hang upside-down over cliffs and dive underwater. If no electrical outlet is available, extreme ironers depend on batteries or accept the reality of an imperfectly pressed garment.

Steve “Vertical Steam Setting” Jolly is one of them. The 28-year-old from London, England, took his extreme ironing skills to the Canadian Rockies in February 2003. “It so happened that I and a couple of extreme-ironing friends were going to a physics conference at Lake Louise,” said Jolly in an e-mail interview. “Obviously we took an iron with us.”

Jolly, a physicist dabbling in engineering research, and his friends managed to tear themselves away from subatomic physics to do some hardcore ironing.

“I personally enjoy the extra dimension that ironing adds to sports,” he explained. “You may be beaten to the summit of your mountain by two parties of Japanese tourists and a dog, but at least you remembered the iron.”

During his week in the Rockies, Jolly extreme-ironed, skied and snowboarded. Luckily, he had his iron handy to smooth away the wrinkles on his driver's license after it fell in the North Saskatchewan River.

Jolly and his friends also invented a new variation of extreme ironing—something they call the Iron Tow. “It's easy,” he insisted. “All you need is a car, preferably a [rental] car, an iron and a snowy road.

“Slam the [trunk] shut on the plug of the iron—British irons are better here [as] they have larger plugs— hold on to the handle and get a friend to drive off while you hang on.” Bonus points for people who can iron on steep slopes.

Like any innovation, extreme ironing has inspired a number of copycat activities. Arnold Chiswick started extreme accounting in 2004 when he took his taxes on a skydiving freefall. Now the sport features its own video game and is mounting an Olympic bid—although, according to Chiswick's website (www.extreme-accounting.com), no one else has joined his movement.

Extreme ironing, on the other hand, has inspired merchandising. Taiwanese director Yun Chan “Robin” Lee is currently working on a made-for-TV movie about extreme ironing, but the project won't be the first—the British Ironing Under the Sky and the German Have Fun/Look Tidy, have already filmed the neophyte sport.

Like any sport, extreme ironing has its controversies. A group of 70 Australians claimed they set the world record for underwater extreme ironing in 2005. While Guinness recognizes the group, the EIB doesn't honour the claim because the Aussies were in a swimming pool.

While some argue extreme ironing is just a fad, Jolly doesn't plan to throw in the towel any time soon. “I don't think you ever hang up your iron,” he said.