I am a huge fan of kitsch. Tell me about the world's biggest anything and I'm there faster than you can say apple pie. See? I even talk kitschy. That's about all the background you should need to understand why I nearly passed out for joy when I heard about Zehnder's Snowfest in Frankenmuth. There are about eight different ways this festival appeals to me - and I managed to do or see most of them while I was there this weekend.
I went with the intention of going ice putt-putting. That sounds amazing, right? Well, I'm going to stop talking about it completely to tell you a different story for a second. You see, a couple months ago, before Halloween, I got wind of what sounded like just about the coolest thing in the history of mankind. What could this amazing, wonderful, time-stoppingly awesome activity be, you ask? Zombie. Paintball. Two things that, standing alone, are unquestionably bad-ass. Then... then... someone had the bright idea to put them together. It was like Christmas, which was great because apparently Christmas starts the day after Halloween now. But I digress.
I got all giddy and piled up a carload of close friends (also known as guinea pigs) and we headed out to this haunted house out in the middle of where the backwoods meets nowhere. Seriously. We had to stop and ask directions from someone playing bluegrass from a radio older than me and working on his car, up on blocks, in the middle of the night. Also, it was a farm. Picture it.
It was ok though, you see, because we were about to shoot paintballs at zombies. It cannot get better than that. Well, it couldn't have gotten better than that if we had gotten what we thought we were getting. It was not the fully interactive, live-action, zombie apocalypse training we had hoped for. Instead...
It was this, but with A (as in one) zombie.
Now, don't get me wrong, I had a grand and ridiculous time at the Snowfest, but I told you that so I could tell you this: ice putt-putt was about as much of a bait-and-switch. It was not ice putt-putt. I didn't get to spend time thinking about compensating my shot for the lack of friction. Yes I'm that much of a nerd. Instead, it was putt-putt with ice obstacles. Now, that was neat. A little. Not unlike shooting frozen paintballs at a teenager in a zombie costume who just had to stand there and take it was a little neat.
Justin took his anger out on that poor, frozen windmill.
It was the absolute picture of American kitsch though. Its exactly what I think of when I think of a small to medium festival showcasing Americana. The sculptures were absolutely breathtaking - even the little ones on the putt-putt course. I was highly amused by a lot of them. There were a lot of advertisers that made sculptures of their products and showcased them around the sculptures that were competing for prizes.
Its the Leaning Tower of Pieces. Get it? Cause its a fish... and its crooked? Ahh, you don't get it.
My butt was cold and wet for an hour. Why did we do this first?
Many of the sculptures were absolutely beautiful. It clearly took a lot of planning and work to create them, not to mention tons of creativity. I was, honest to goodness, in awe of the winners for best snow sculpture and the gorgeous array of ice sculptures lining the main road. Each one was intensely, over the top, mind-bogglingly amazing.
Except this one. This one sucked. Go Blue!
One of the things that was really nice about the festival was how spread out it was. Once you got parked and started walking around, there were only a few places where the crowd was kind of intense. The rest of the time it was just like being in a city and looking around. Crowded, but not crushingly so. That gave us the opportunity to pose with another ice sculpture.
Pictured: a vast improvement*
Now, the thing you may or may not realize about an ice festival is that its got to be pretty cold outside for things to, you know, exist at one. We knew that, but we didn't really know that until we'd been outside for a little while. In other words, my toes went numb so we walked into a fudge shop. That's not why we chose the fudge shop. We chose it because the smells coming out of it are what make angels sing. I'm convinced of that. We snagged ourselves some hot cocoa and warmed up before heading back out to look at more frozen things.
That's when we stumbled onto something that, and I don't want to overstate it here, I'm pretty sure gave my life new meaning. You see, we were walking and talking, sipping and stepping, being all cool and whatnot... and we came upon a grown man (I can only assume) in a Blue's Clues costume. Intrigued, we watched for a moment and soon discovered that the giant blue dog-guy wasn't just standing around looking pretty. He was frozen chicken bowling.
My contribution to history.
What you're looking at is me, throwing a frozen chicken, at bowling pins. I had to be careful not to cross the Fowl Line. That part was important. Also hilarious. They were giving out free hot cocoa to people who frozen chicken bowled, but you may recall from earlier in our story that I had just finished a hot cocoa. It seemed like a good idea to give it to someone instead of just throwing the ticket away so Justin and I found a nice little girl and asked her mom if she'd like hot cocoa. It was nice.
That about concludes our icebound adventures. There's not much else to tell, but I am posting pictures of my favorite snow and ice sculptures courtesy of Justin having a camera without dead batteries. Enjoy them. I did.
Pictured: Kitteh
This won first prize. Cause it was awesome.
Also, here's a gargoyle.
*kidding. I promise.
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