Last week I ventured out to North Dakota to visit Taylor, who has been living there for several months (preparing for an exam, hunting throughout the countryside, and being mischievous in general). Much fun was to be had (hence the naming of the weekend as Best Weekend Ever or "BWE"), but the potential was amplified by the fact that Norsk Høstfest, the world's largest Scandinavian festival, was to take place during my stay. Also, Taylor had promised to introduce me to the word of hunting as he had the animal kingdom in general, and that was bound to be fun (and also amusing for him). Here are some of the highlights from BWE in the form of short vignettes:
Hoooooostfest
Not knowing how to pronounce the mysterious "ø," Taylor did some research and determined that saying "hoooooostfest" was probably the best we could do. So, on Friday morning, we ventured to Minot to see the Høst in person... And what a spectacle it was!
The first thing we noticed was the abundance of tour buses, and, more specifically, tour buses full of old people senior citizens. There were many, many of them, and we were the youngest by at least forty years. (Not that there's anything wrong with that...). Things almost got off to a rough start after one of the gentlemen below shouted at Taylor for trying to buy tickets at the wrong table (or perhaps just being a "whippersnapper" in general).
After Taylor picked up the tickets, we ventured inside to the Leif Eriksson Millennium Hall. To our left was Reykjavik Hall, straight ahead was Troll Stroll West, and to the right, Stockholm Hall. The choices were endless, but we were on a mission: to find and taste one of Høstfest's popular offerings, the Viking-on-a-Stick, whatever that was.
We wandered through the various halls, all named for either Leif Eriksson, a Scandinavian country/city, or, generally speaking, vikings and trolls. We came across many counters with Swedish pastries, a variety of denim clothing offerings (Taylor suggested a floor-length dress but that would have been a Bad Idea), and more than one stand advertising orthopedic/chiropractic/geriatric services (and by "more than one" I mean LOTS). We even saw an "Oof-Da Taco" and lutefisk, a curiously tampered-with dried-and-re-hydrated fish snack.
Speaking of the "Oof-da"/"Uff-da", there was tons of that going on. Taylor did some more research, and found out that it's Scandinavian for "wow," which I think is pretty appropriate for the whole BWE experience. Here he is with his new favorite t-shirt and hat with horns:
But where was our Viking-on-a-Stick??? We finally wandered into Oslo or Helsinki Hall, or Sdklfdfkerkhfe Alley (something like that), and suddenly there it was: a deep-fried meatball on a stick. We had to try one, so Taylor picked one up, and we sat down to our feast:
It was... interesting, to say the least. It tasted exactly like a deep-fried breaded Swedish meatball is supposed to taste like. On a stick. (Bonus: we amused our new grandfatherly friends at the table by making a big show of pretending to like enjoying the traditional cuisine).
In all, Høstfest was quite an experience-- great company, a crowd of friendly senior citizens people, tasty food, and a whole host of goblins/trolls/Lord of the Rings cast members (and in the photo below, what looks like Ross the Intern):
Rarrrrrr!
Høstfest accomplished/conquered, Taylor bought a pumpkin from a nearby farm that was PERFECT for carving. We debated on a theme for a few days, and decided it should be a lion. Through a team effort, it was carved, seeds were scooped out, hands were scrubbed (pumpkins are rather fragrant), and the design was carried out:
Taylor decided that he needed a mane, so we cut some grass in a field while out hunting (more on this later). Although it should be noted that he is very mantastic, here is Taylor also being crafty:
Pretty much, we made the Best Pumpkin Ever ("BPE" ??), as evidenced by the following:
Mantastic vs. Wild
Taylor is an amazing hunter (he showed me his photo album of incredible catches kills, in an effort to improve my animal knowledge-- seriously, he is talented and full of great stories and adventures), so it was only appropriate that we embark on such a mission. On the first day, we ventured out into Taylor's land to hunt pheasants.
Here is Taylor hunting (while I tromp around trying to startle the birds but instead take photos):
The land is beautiful, and full of birds, deer, and other creatures (mountain lions-- and mountain lion kittens!!-- had been sighted in the area). All was quiet on the western front until Taylor and I sighted several pheasants on the side of the road. Then:
Now we had something to eat for dinner! Taylor shot two other birds (one woefully escaped), but now we were ready for Pheasant Cookoff 2007, which took place on Saturday night.
Here was my contribution to the day's events-- camo print hunting wellington boots (with ribbons!!):
I know, Taylor was impressed too.
For good measure, here is Taylor stalking some wood ducks on the Mouse River:
I LOVED the hunting adventure, and the next day, Taylor was generous (and brave) enough to teach me how to shoot a gun. I would like to say that I was a natural, Annie Oakley-style, but instead I'll be honest. Taylor taught me the proper rules of using guns (#1, never point the gun at anyone, even if by accident, sorry Taylor!!!!!), and I tried to shoot a sunflower, missing by about a mile.
As it turns out, I am a rare left-handed hunter, and can't shoot on the right because I can't seem to close my left eye on command, to see my target properly (I cannot emphasize how bizarre this is). Well, I'm not that great from the left either, and after chasing pheasants all over the plain, my style can be best defined as John Wayne meets Elmer Fudd with little talent, a lack of timing, and general forgetfulness in turning the safety of the gun off because that's what you need to do to shoot a bird. Ooops (and I'll be better next time, I promiiiiiiiise)!!
But whatever, it was really fun!
BWE was, well, the Best Weekend Ever: I had an amazing time with Taylor (and his rascally dog Bosley, who I adore), learned about animals, football (specifically how to do proper Longhorns cheers), pheasantry (the shooting, cleaning, and cooking of), and North Dakota/Scandinavian lore.
Pretty much, it was all very Uff-Da.
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