Honest to god the horseshoe fairy was perched upon my shoulder this past Saturday. Up to Stillwater on the last Labor Day weekend of summer and to the 2nd annual horseshoe tournament in memory of a fella I never had the pleasure to meet, who sadly left his spot on this planet several winters ago when he and his snowmobile sped into his fatal death coming back from Beaver River. Mike James. MIke left behind a lovely wife and two beautiful, then preteen daughters. Such a tragedy.
So the fine folks of the tiny hamlet of Stillwater got together and put on a horseshoe tournament to raise money for a scholarship in the memory of Mike James. They hired me to play and run the sound last year being the first year and raised quite a bit of money...not to sure the exact amount, but enough to make them want to have the tournament again this year. And what a day it was...rained out and extended to day two. I payed my ten dollar entrance fee...met up with my arranged partner by the name of Kayla who was celebrating her nineteenth birthday and eager to throw some shoes. Knowing that I was in realm of horseshoe addiction territory, I quickly for-warned Kayla that I hadn't touched a horseshoe since the last tournament a year ago. But Kayla in all her youngness said not to worry as we were gonna rock those horse shoes out! I decided that one beer was good for the day as these people are serious horseshoe throwers and I needed to stay sober as possible in respect to the sport. Mind you now there is hardly an ounce of sport in me. I generally HATE most sporting events. In the past I have been know to roll gutter balls in the next lane and when told to keep my eye on the ball while playing softball, the ball hit me between the eyes and I woke up pretty disoriented with two black eyes and bent up eye glass frames in my dirty hands in the nurses office.
Then theres Chet...God love this fella who travels the world over building ski resorts on mountain sides and has pretty much the best top of the line toys-for-him everything, flashing red white and blue shirts with stars and stripes and hauls ground granite from Virginia to frost the horseshoe pits around the pins. Chet and his lovely wife Carol spend many weekends boating out to Picnic Island or what ever island they can get to, to set up horse pits and spend the day sipping wine and throwing shoes. Die hard. I guess someone has to do it.
So wouldn't you know it...Kayla and I play our first match. I wasn't bad....She was awesome making most of the points and we won. The second match we were up against Chet and Diane. Diane is my new role model of an elderly Adirondack woman. I just love the way she looks in all her Adirondackness and can she throw a mean shoe.
Well as luck would have it...I threw three ringers and a whole bunch of extra points. We won that match too. Chet had a strange look on his face cause all I could do was laugh like a woman possessed at all these lucky shots I was making.
So, 8:00 rolled around...long day, cold, windy and rainy. The tournament was put on hold till the next day. I told Kayla to find another partner as I had to get the laptop and music equipment out of the rain. I was bushed.
Sunday morning rolls around and I'm up to the Inn and theres happy faced Chet telling me the game was far from over and my team is still in the running. What could I say? No! Nope! Back to the pits I went. Kayla and I played four more games and won the show!!! At one point Kayla was over throwing the shoes so I told her to take a step back then throw. Three times I told her this and each time I did she got a ringer. Chet was as red as his shirt! We won! I've never won any kind of sporting event in my life!!! I even got a trophy. All Bill could do was shake his head. Honest to god I've never seen him so proud of me!
I just have one more bone to pick with Chet, who was nice enough to donate all the trophy's. The little gold figure on top of the trophy is that of a man...this must change by next summer!
Saturday while all this was going on, Nick decided to go for a kayak...turning out to be a bad decision being as windy and raining as it was. He capsized the kayak and had to swim quite a ways to land in his new heavy leather chippehwa boots weighing in at least ten pounds a piece. Duh Nick. Kayaking with leather anchors on your feet is not the smartest thing you've ever done. He lost his cell phone and almost his life. I was a mess for hours thinking of him out on that water. We almost had the ranger go out after him. But Nick managed to get to shore and just happened to find a plastic baggy with some matches in it. He made a fire and dried out some of his clothes and got the courage to get back in the kayak where he kayaked to an island that had a camp with some nice people in it who drove him and his soggy assed gear back to Stillwater. The whole next day was shot for him as he was sore from such a heavy swim. I have to think his guardian angel was looking over him during his whole ordeal. I know Dad was with me on that horseshoe pit...He loved to play in his younger day. Actually knowing Dad...he was pulling a double shift making sure Nick was OK and winning that horseshoe game for me. Thanks Dad! Miss you.
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