Eighty Feet Up, Plus Two

Day 304: Although I've lived in the area for over twenty years, I had never attended the Morton Loggers' Jubilee. With a cool but pleasant day in the offing, it seemed like a good time to remedy that.

Now I'm not one for crowds. I left home early, found parking close to the main street and vendors' booths. The parade consisted of over 100 "floats," at least a quarter of which were log trucks from timber companies who work the forests hereabouts. Parade notwithstanding, the real reason I'd decided to attend was to watch the logging competitions, double-bucking, springboard chop, obstacle cut and log rolling. Speed climbing was another feature, contestants scrambling to the top of two eighty-foot spar poles in the center of the arena.

Between speed climbing events, I happened to notice a somewhat slower climber ascending ten feet at a time with big pauses in between bursts of activity. When he reached the halfway point, the announcer brought the crowd's attention to him as well. Dressed as an old-time logger, he was not a clown, but it was clear that his routine was the comic relief. Up the spar pole he went, and when he reached the top, he pulled himself onto the apex and sat for a while. Then he drank a beer, unclipped himself from his safety harness and stood upright on the tip of the pole. Next, he drew out a a handful of balls and juggled, and after putting them away, he danced. And then, as if to cap the event, he did a headstand. Onlookers assumed the show was over, but at the edge of the arena, his aggrieved wife entered the scene with a make-believe shotgun. When the shot was fired, our high climber tumbled from the pole spectacularly...and zip-lined to the ground.

I didn't catch his name, but the same man has been performing at the Jubilee for 35 years. By my calculations, he'd have to be at least 55 years old. Tough guys, those loggers.