Views of Sequim, the Olympic Peninsula. . .and beyond
Where else would you go to find an “upside down” version of the world than the carnival of a fair? In this case the carnival was at last year’s Clallam County Fair where young and old trooped onto rides promising to flip their world topsy turvy.
Click here to see how City Daily Photo bloggers from around the world have interpreted today’s first of the month theme of “Upside Down.”
One last view of the Clallam County Fair…
I’m not a great fan of the hustle of a typical carnival. But they can’t be beat for sheer spectacle, eye candy, and people watching.
The animals that visitors see at the Clallam County Fair are raised and shown by various 4H clubs. Many of the dogs we saw last Saturday competed in agility trials.
I know the bunnies were judged on their bunniness qualities but for me it was a walk down the Cute Animal isle.
Mama swine had a passel of suckling piglets. While we visited her, 4H members who had raised pigs were moving them through their paces at an auction nearby. Many 4H livestock projects culminate at auctions at the fair. The animals they raise are auctioned and the “project” quickly becomes a commodity.
This rooster had just finished a “cock-a-doodle-doo” serenade.
The cattle are really groomed for showing.
It can probably be argued that a county fair is a holdover from the days when agriculture was front and center in most communities across the U.S. and the business of agriculture — showing prized animals, stock auctions — was a community focal point. That’s less the case in many regions today, but the fair still has value. We need to remember — and children need to learn — where our food and fiber comes from. And maybe it’s because I’m an animal lover, but I believe that humans have a natural affinity for animals. Fairs give some of us a fleeting chance to touch skin to fur and feathers and see animals that aren’t part of our daily lives.
People line up to touch. They ooh and aah over softness or texture, snuggle where they can.
Children have a chance to see and learn, often with babies that are just the right size, without the typical “don’t touch!” warnings.
And the interaction goes both ways.
Loggers, of course, use chainsaws, so no logging show is complete without firing up a couple of them. At the Clallam County Fair two chainsaws were calibrated with matching RPMs and then competitors were timed at how fast they could blast through equally sized logs. The chainsaws are called “stock” saws because they’re standard, off-the-shelf models. It looks like this fellow is taking a moment to pray before he starts but the competition begins with both hands pressed onto the log.
Ready. Set. Go! Grab the chainsaw and start cutting.
It’s over fast. Pine logs were used. Pine is a soft wood. Douglas fir, a harder wood, is also used but I don’t know where or when.
Here’s a twist on the classic dart game: it’s the logger’s version. Grab a big axe, stand about 15 feet away from the target, cock back the axe, and give it a mighty throw.
This fellow made it look almost easy, but then he was the winner. Two women were part of the competition but neither had the broad shoulder leverage to pitch with the strength and accuracy this competition demands. I think it’s a Paul Bunyan kind of thing.