by Thaddeus
The afternoon of Sunday, July 29
3:57 (Buddy):
“Hey whatcha doing next weekend?”
3:59 (Me):
“Nothing planned. Wanna go for a hike?”
4:01 – “No, I
will be in Crystal Falls for Humungous Fungus.”
4:01 – “Cool
man. Sounds like a blast.”
4:03 – “Yeah
it’s a good time. You should come out.”
4:05 – “For
sure, that’s a cool area. Why not? I will see you there.”
4:06 – “Awesome,
that’s what I like to hear.”
4:18 – (Internal monologue) “Wait, where is Crystal Falls?
Have I been there? Is that by Marquette? I need to google this...”
The morning of Saturday, August 4
WELCOME TO HISTORIC
CRYSTAL FALLS
10:38 –
(External monologue) “THIS is Crystal Falls?”
10:39 – “HAVE
I ever been here?”
10:40 – “Am
I in the Central Time Zone?”
10:44 – “Did
I just drive through Crystal Falls?”
As of the 2010 census, Crystal Falls
has a population of 1,429. That number is much, much lower than
estimates thrown around by my road trip partner “Bob” and I as we
were sight-seeing through town, slowly making our way to a gas
station. Bob could swear he was here once before, and tentatively
recalled a bait shop and memories of the greatest submarine sandwich
he ever tasted as the neural pathways of his brain were being fueled
by blue Gatorade and McDonald’s breakfast.
Myself, on the other hand, never tasted
an epic sub in this part of the state. Sure, I had been through Iron
Mountain, Iron River and Covington, but somehow I never succumbed to
the siren song of Crystal Falls.
I discovered what I had been missing.
Ultimately, the Humungous Fungus Festival was what brought me to
town, but proximally the UP Strongman Competition was scheduled to
begin at high noon (yes, Central Time) and a mutual friend to Bob and
I was competing in the heavyweight division.
Being of extremely slight build
relative to the competitors, Bob and I felt more than a little out of
place prior to the competition as the athletes were stretching muscle
masses that were clearly the result of years of training and
discipline. No disrespect intended, but the female competitors could
have twisted me into a pretzel that would have sold at a premium at
the concession stand. It was agreed upon that the only way to
salvage – or mask – our self-respect was to partake in some 12
ounce curls of ice cold beverages as the emcee announced the start of
the spectacle.
The event annihilated my concept of
what human beings could achieve. Imagine the most physically
demanding movement you have ever made, quadruple the intensity, and
you have the first of five feats of strength. I’m
lucky if my back doesn’t seize while doing dishes after lunch, but
these men and women were moving weights best described as large
fractions of blue whales. At regular intervals over four hours, the
gamut of responses ran from nervous energy before the whistle blew,
exhaustion after completion of a challenge, episodes of profuse
perspiration, shouting, grunting, and physical and emotional strain.
I can only imagine what the competitors were going through.
If I ever happen to meet any of the
people who competed (other than my buddy, the 2012 heavyweight
champion, by the way), I will look directly into their eyes, shake
their hand, and give them my utmost respect. Immediately afterwards
I will drive to the nearest hospital for an X-ray of the pulverized
bones of my useless limb, suppressing tears and thinking of whom I
will ask first to sign my cast.
To be honest, I didn’t attend any of
the other scheduled events of the Festival; I didn’t think it was
necessary. I had a blast in Crystal Falls, and as much fun as it
would have been to hang out at the Teen Dance (Thursday @ 7) or the
Senior’s Cribbage Match (Friday @ 1:30), nothing could trump the
time I had at the UP Strongman during the weekend I spent in Crystal
Falls this past Saturday afternoon.
If you happen to make it out next year,
I will be the skinny guy at the concession stand nervously asking if
there is any demand for pretzels to be on the menu – say hello.
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