My, how quickly time flies!  It was just a short February ago we were attending our 2nd Eelpout Festival in Walker, MN. And here it is, time again for our annual pilgrimage to the land of frozen lakes and ugly fish. 



It was a bright Friday February morning. Gil had the Pout mobile tanked off and ready to go when the rest of us flounders rolled into his driveway.  It was 10A sharp (we like to get an early an early start, you know).  Our goal: A Pilgrimage to our 3rd Annual Eelpout Festival in Walker, MN.  But this year we thought we'd see and do more.  For this Friday, Gil had us booked to play for an Irish crowd at Brigid’s Cross in Bemidji.  Woo-hoo! 

An hour into our adventure we pulled into a rest stop just outside of St. Cloud.  Fin went charging from the car (he’d had three cups of coffee).  By the time Fin, Keeper and I came sauntering into the bathroom, Fin had already struck up a conversation with the guy one urinal over.  We didn’t notice since the three of us were deep into some conversation about the Vikings or global warming (don’t remember).

"Do those guys know what they’re talking about?”

Fin’s new friend commented without looking up (good thing).  Fin was a but surprised, but before he could answer, his biff buddy bellowed...

“Because they sound like a bunch of dumba**es to me.”

We were kinda shocked for a moment.  This is not your typical Minnesota nice.  But before we had a chance to call our wives to find out what we should do, he said...

“You wouldn’t be headed for some fishing tournament, would you?!” 

Ah.  A joke.  But how perceptive!  Gil put his mace back.

Since we actually were headed for a fishing tournament, it seemed appropriate to make dumba** our pet names for each other for the weekend. We were all stumped about how he actually knew, though.



It was getting dark when we pulled into Bemidji, but not too dark to take a picture with Paul Bunyan and Babe the blue ox.  I know, not too good of a shot.  I had to balance the camera on a garbage can 30 feet away.  We’re in there.  You just gotta look close.



Brigid’s was a way cool place!  And they like bands named after fish! 



We decided to celebrate in kind and ordered their house special (fish and chips) to celebrate. That and several pints of Guinness.  We also participated in the world’s largest toast of Guinness that took place at 10P that night.

After a restful night at the Bemidji Super 8, we made ready for the 45 minute drive to Walker. That was until Keeper snapped off the windshield wiper from the driver’s side of the Pout mobile. 



He claims it was already broken, he just happened to be the guy handling it.  Gil wasn’t convinced.  In fact, since we were running on such a tight budget, he was considering other ways to pay $12 for the new blade. 



Once repaired, we decided to treat ourselves with a cuppa joe from Dunn Brothers and we back on our way to Walker.

We found the 30th Annual Eelpout Festival (our third) was well under way and attendence was up, despite a bad economy.  People still gotta fish, you know. 



Walking across the central area we saw our boss Jim (the organizer) being interviewed by the mayor (also the local DJ) on eelpout radio.  They gave our arrival the thumbs up so we quickly grabbed our instruments and headed into the O'Fishal’s tent to play. 



We took up a spot next to our old friends that run the O'Fishal eelpout clothing booth.





  There were new signs and pictures all over the place. 



 



They even put in a fish tank with a live eelpout (more about this later). 



The fish were piling up.



The biggest from Friday was a 10.8#, two-toned wonder.



We also noticed some new animal carcass head gear. 





These folks were more than happy to pose for pics. 



And this fellow appreciated my compliment that his bobcat matched his moustache.

 

New this year was head attire for the young anglers (that’s fish talk for kids). 



And an enterprising picture vendor had special framed portraits of fish actually IN the water, UNDER the ice!





How do you suppose that painter kept the canvas dry?  Note the $800 fish scene was sold out.

Beaded necklaces were also in this year. 



And Gil quickly noticed the girls were back.



It wasn’t long until we’d learned another “fashion show” was scheduled in the main tent at 4P! In fact, the girls had set up a table right next to us and were selling their version of Sports Illustrated calendars to build, er, excitement. The calendar also made it easy to bring Keeper up to speed on what he’d missed last year. At $5 a throw, traffic was brisk. Keeper positioned his chair that direction to watch the fun (you see, Keeper is real smart and seems to always cipher that stuff out before the rest of us). Meanwhile, sweet-talking Gil (he complemented the girls on their, er, appearances last year) got himself a free T-shirt!



Fin got in on the fun just by being there. 



Both Pouts were immediately faced with a small dilemma… how to get these picturesque articles of attire - which the girls obviously didn’t need - into the house.  Oh well. They’d worry about that later.  What happens at Eelpout Festival, stays at Eelpout Festival.
 
It’s time to play! 



We’d no sooner step up and begin to stomp up a storm when this overwhelming fish smell hit us all in the face.  Fin turned up his nose.  Gil was ready to hurl.



In front of us were two young gentlemen from Florida.  They’d stopped and started to dance.  Normally, that’s not a problem.  But they’d just come in from body-rolling in the pile of eelpout out front.  That white glaze on their snow suits is slime. Not sure what fish parts are on the fellow on the left’s face. Lucky for us, people kept filing in the tent and pushed them and their smell further down the line. 

There was lots of other interesting head gear to see this year.  Here’s pheasant head. 



And this husband and wife were expressing their preference for a certain brand of beer.

..



The mod squad also walked by. 



This bear was a hunting prize that this fellow had bagged a couple of years before.



There were even folks back from last year… one wore his favorite hat while the other sported a new look! 



 

It was time for a break and we were all hungry so we headed out the door for the main tent and those golden nuggets of pure delight. 



We were almost run over by the mobile bar. 



Eelpout Idol was in full swing but was experiencing a momentary lull. Three rounds of “I Did It My Way” was apparently too much for any group to handle (no matter how drunk).



Back to work. 



Lotsa interesting things happened during our afternoon of fun.  One lady came by and held her mini donuts too close to me.  I almost scored one for Fin too before I had to hand them back.  Another dancer dropped her Mike’s Hard Lemonade but was relieved when it didn’t break.  We didn’t know they were plastic bottles.  We also didn’t know they were carbonated until two matching jet streams shot 3 feet out each nostril barely missing Keeper’s foot.  No matter.  No harm done. 

I saw a lady with a television camera coming by so I quickly alerted to the group to shape up.  We sat up straight and played our best version of Johnny Don't Get Drunk hoping to capture her glass eye (uh, camera lens).  We were going on about 5 rounds when I was starting to wonder where she was. She'd just been there with her camera ready to roll a few moments earlier.  Apparently, we'd lost out.  She'd only come in to video the eelpout in the fish tank. Oh well. A brother eelpout still got some limelight.

The afternoon was running late and we still had things to do before the 4P fashion show.  We ran outside for a group shot fish kiss. 



Fin accidentally got bumped on the lips when I swung the fish too far his direction.  Jeez.  The guy is SOOO SENSITIVE. 

It surprised me how upset Fin got especially when you consider how much he likes eelpout. He works for the Fish and Wildlife Dept, dontchaknow.  He asked around to see if it was ok to take an eelpout home as a souvenir.  Guess he thought his wife would like that considering he got the nifty T-shirt. So he bagged up a 9 pounder and strapped it to the roof rack. 



About that time these four horny guys walked by on their way to the fashion show.



They were eelpout virgins (first festival) but had heard about the fun and thought they’d join in. I kinda liked their hats (that works for “bullhead”).

That’s when we found out just how popular the fashion show had become.  Apparently, last year’s appearance HAD added to this year’s crowd. 



Here’s the line just to get in!  We decided it was too crowded... no country for old men. Oh well.  It probably wouldn’t have been good for us anyway.  Besides, we had the T-shirts to remind us. Later we would find out Keeper had bought a calendar for his son (yeah, right).  We were all thankful, though.  With all the visuals, we got to share more memories of last year going home in the car. Boy, that Keeper sure is a smart one.

So it was time to head over to our last gig of the day… Terrapin Station in Nevis, MN. 



The place proved magnificent (a wonderful venue for live acoustic music) and the owners (Brian and Stacey) were marvelous hosts. They even fed and put us up for the night! 

We were sorry to see our happy adventure come to an end.

The next morning on our way home, we decided to take a last picture of us with one of the many Paul Bunyans scattered across the state.  Gil parked the Pout mobile about 50 yards away so I could place the camera on top and take a pic.  I’m not as fast as I used to be.  The 10 second timer proved it. 



That's all the notes from our 3rd annual Eelpout Festival outing.  Anything else would just be a lie so I might as well stop here.

Respectfully submitted.

Bullhead.. (one of the dumba**es)



PS - Ok, look manmademusic.  I'm REALLY sorry we missed the fashion show this year.  So I put in one pic from last year's Eelpout Excellent Adventure, alright?   Oh. Since this is a family site, I thought I'd edit it some.  Hope that's ok. 

Rated PG.
Mostly true.



Well, there we were... four eelpouters in the middle of February, sitting around watching the snow fall when suddenly the phone rang. It was our old buddy Jim, calling about the Eelpout Festival.

"Well you guys are comin' this year, aren't ya?"
"Why sure! Youbetcha, Jim! Love to! Wouldn't miss it!"
"Good. Bye."

Jim is a man of few words. No matter. We were thrilled the organizer of our namesake festival had reached out to include us for yet another year. But we're pretty easy that way. Now came the planning for our next excellent adventure.  Eelpout Festival '08!



Goodness! We were all a-twitter. Then Keeper, the clean-cut, responsible one of the crew had to go and ruin the moment by checking his daytimer and finding out he had a conflict. Huh? Boy Scouts? Awinter sleepout? Surely he could tell the boys he was just heading out to Casey's for some supplies, then come back a day or so later. Who'd miss him? No dice. You know, it's always nice having Keeper around. Reminds us of the value of our moms... and how much trouble we'd usually be in if left on our own.

Ok, so Keeper was out. But Fin, Gil and I (Bullhead) could still do the Festival as a day trip! Walker, MN is only 3.5 hours away... we could drive up Saturday morning, play some tunes, eat our traditional eelpout nuggets, kiss a few fish and, well, be on our way home by 6P. After all, we're, (ahem) older, mature men.

It was a plan.

Saturday, February 16th arrived in no time. Gil had the Pout-mobile (his mini-van) packed to the, er, gills and we were on our way at 7A.  Woo-hoo! Road trip!!

 

Two rest stops later, we were there. Beautiful Walker, MN on the shores of lovely Leech lake. And the lake was a-buzz with the usual Eelpout Festival activities! Helicopters were coming and going, ski planes (6 of them) were landing and taking off. Couches on two-by-fours, full of frenzied fishing folks were racing to and fro, being toted by snowmobile, 4-wheeler or truck. Elsewhere, snowmobilers were racing, ice football games were in play and, well, folks were just generally having a good time. Our second, great Eelpout Excellent Adventure had begun!

 

No sooner had we arrived than we ran into our boss, Jim. He told us to hang around the main tent as they were introducing a few new events this year... most notably, the fashion show. Now, having been here before, we all just naturally assumed that "fashion," in Minnesota terms, meant novel or interesting winter dress. Boy, we were woefully mistaken. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Jim said to check back later and he'd know more about what was going to happen when. And with that he sent us to the Entrance tent to play for the folks just arriving.

 

Once inside the Entrance tent, Jim's lovely Mrs. Lori met us and welcomed us back. We quickly took our place in the corner and started to play.

 

But a few minutes later, Mayor Brad, the honorable Walker dignitary his'self invited us to play a tune or two for his "listening audience." We'd forgotten. Brad also serves as the local DJ on KQ 102. Woo-hoo! It's Eelpout Airtime!

 

We dropped down to "D" to play our favorite version of Fly Around My Pretty Little Miss for all of Mr. and Mrs. Minnesota within 150 miles of downtown Walker. What a hoot.

 

The radio stage was a temporary glassed in porch that sat in the middle of the Eelpout Festival. From there we got to see some of the endearments of this wonderful band of fishing buds. Head carcasses are proudly and prominently displayed.

 







Carcass merchants were busy with traffic.

 


This lady was commenting she didn't like her husband as a blonde fox. Think he ended up with a skunk.

 

We even found a few new examples of head gear among the faithful.

 


Gil said he was hungry so we headed into the main tent for our traditional eelpout nuggets lunch.  Woo-hoo! Just look at them little golden delights (does go better with tartar sauce and beer).



This happy diner had driven all the way from Cambridge (Minnesota) just to share in the day's fun!

 

Suddenly we looked around and noticed a crowd had gathered in the main tent. We knew we were soon to be playing there. Perhaps they'd remembered us from last year? Could it be? Oh, my. Had they remembered and returned just to see us?



The stage was being assembled. Even more people came. Soon, they seemed to be packing the place! We hadn't looked to much at the time, but we knew we'd be up soon. Probably right after the fashion show? GREAT!

 

Well, it seems we'd missed one small detail about the "fashion show." Earlier in the day, we'd seen some very attractive, younger women walking around in some spiffy red coats and snow pants. They were sporting clothes advertising some new brand of ice auger. Last year the Coor's Silver Bullet girls in their black leggings and short silver coats had stopped in, so we just dismissed this as some new marketing ploy. Well, it seems the marketers know a bit more about the fishing audience than a bunch of fishy, middle-aged old men (er, us).

 

Back to the tent.

 

Fin was having fun watching karaokie folks make silly of themselves.  But there was so much excitement growing that Gil got a bit nervous.

 

He dismissed himself to go do some shopping (it helps). A few minutes later he was back sporting his new hat. Had something French written on it.

 

The locals liked it. In fact, one of the main family Eelpouters of years gone by thought it worthy of a comment. This was the first guy that had ever built a two-story fish house during the festival!

 

It was almost like meeting Elvis! Gil was accepted as one of the fold. Ok, so back to us being nervous. While folks were waiting there was a terrific karaokie guy that was entertaining the crowd.

 

The front row of guys was really into it. They broke out the lighters during sad numbers and were busy constructing beer castles during the rest.
 




About that time, our world came crashing down.



This crowd wasn't here to hear the Eelpout Stringers, they'd simply come early to get good seats for the fashion show. And the fashion show wasn't just any display of northern MN sheik, it was a bikini fashion show! Gil was shocked! Fin was flabbergasted! I grabbed my camera and jockeyed for position.

The first cat-walking contestant was one of the non-fishing beauties displaying the latest in auger ware.

 

The enthusiastic crowd cheered warmly!
 


But, unlike most northern Minnesotans, what happened next was beyond belief! The girls returned, but started taking OFF their clothing!

 

Now, this is MN in the winter. You don't do such foolishness, dontchaknow. Didn't seem to matter to them.

 

At first it looked like she was simply exchanging fishing secrets. 



But then it looked like this young lady apparently didn't trust the front row of guys. I see she's checking to make sure she still has her fishing lure in her navel.

 




As you can see from some of these pics, the girls apparently just kept getting warmer and warmer until, horrors! There was little left to cover!



I think this young lady was named Ms. Pout, based on her stance. Not sure, though. Now I can understand how a tent full of wild and crazy fishing people can generate a little heat, and how enough alcohol does fool one into thinking they're plenty warm, but how could these girls walk around like this!? Gil wanted to call Keeper and ask some advice. I was wondering if Keeper wanted dups. But I digress from my story.

 

As quickly as it all happened, it was over. The fashion show ended. Everyone was checking their cameras and cell phones to make sure they got what they, er, whatever it was they were shooting. One young man was checking his heart. Moments later everyone checked their coolers and decided to make another beer run. Apparently, it was time for us to play. Fin was game. Gill was in the port-a-pot. I thought it a good time to get some air. We told Kent the karaokie guy we were heading out on the ice for a while to clear our heads and he happily went back to the remaining crowd to promote "Eelpout Idol" (the finals would be in an hour... winner would have to be able to stand). Gil, Fin and I pointed the Pout-mobile out on the ice and went to Winter Wonderland.

 

Even though we saw some new, interesting sites, we were still stunned from the impact of the fashion show. After avoiding a few certain death run-ins with various vehicles, we headed back to the Entrance tent to play our final set, but not before Mayor Brad had us play for the radio one more time. This time we got to meet his wife who was one of the largest fund raisers for this years Polar Plunge! Mrs. Mayor raised over $1,400 for her jump into Leech lake during the middle of February. We were awed. We did find a tune that worked well with the tempo set by her chattering teeth.

Ok, time to go. We looked back in to see the winning pout (so far) was almost 13.


 
That's a lotta pout! Kinda made us all hungry. We decided to finish off our second Excellent Adventure at Benson's having pizza, just like last year.



But this time, rather than play for the crowd, we were too pooped. So we sat around and looked at the pictures of our day. Funny thing with digital cameras. Before you know it, you've taken, oh, 200 pictures or so.  But most were only of, er one event. We were all trying to decide what pictures to send Keeper at his family email address. We wanted all of them to know what he missed.

Ten minutes later, we decided that was a bad idea. We'd just tell Keeper in private. After all we DID want him to be able to join us next year. In fact, maybe this whole blog thing is a bad idea.  Maybe what happens at the Eelpout Festival STAYS at the Eelpout Festival.

Nah.  That wouldn't be any fun.  And whose gonna believe this fish tale, anyway?

 

Until our next Excellent Eelpout Adventure...

Respectfully submitted.

Bullhead

PS - Ok, so we didn't carry on ALL the traditions this year.  Many of you have requested the traditional first-catch, fish-kiss.  Sorry, we, uh, forgot.  How about we just reach back into the archives to find something memorable? Since Keeper wasn't with us in person this trip, we thought it only considerate that we use his super smack from last year.  So, here it 'tis. 

So how can 4 middle-aged, old-timey music guys get in trouble? They can't!  Age does have some advantages.  But that doesn't mean we can't hang out in crazy places!  Here's a short story about one place in particular... the Eelpout Festival in Walker, MN.



Ok, so friday afternoon, February 16th, Fin (in the Bowler), Gil (official Eelpout Stringer hat), Keeper (rabbit carcass) and me (Bullhead) loaded Gil's van up to the, er, gills and took off on our big weekend adventure... the 28th Annual Eelpout Festival in Walker, MN!  This lovely mid-winter gathering hosts between 12 and 15,000 fun-loving, fish-eating folks.  The northern MN town of Walker fills to capacity as a new city begins to emerge in the middle of Leech Lake.  Not to worry, though, as the lake sported 36" of ice this year and temps the week prior hovered around zero.  Being sticklers for tradition (cough), we thought it appropriate that we travel as a group to see the home of eelpout fishing as well as kiss the namesake of our band.  We weren't disappointed.

 

When we got there, the lake was a-buzz with activity.  Once the torchlighting kickoff ceremony was completed - maybe 2 minutes or so -  oh, the torch was a plastic eelpout with a wick(ed) tongue for the flame, everyone disappeared on to the ice.  Supposedly for fishing (we found out later, mostly for drinking).  Hey!  It's a cold, tough job out there!



The fish started to pour on in.  Next to the officials tent there was a rack that the fish, once they were weighed, were hung for all to see.  This is one butt-ugly fish, mind you. 

Now, tradition says you have to kiss the first eelpout you catch.  So we thought we'd join in on the fun... after all, it was the thing to do. 




Keeper got into it the most.  Later we noticed signs posted throughout Walker that said "not responsible for diseases caused by contact with fish."  Hmmm.

Fin got into the spirit by immediately buying an animal carcass to put on his head.  He's was right in vogue.



We played in the refreshment tent most of that afternoon.  The eelpout nuggets they served were excellent!  It was cold, but we survived. 

   

 

Time for dinner!  We spry young guys thought we'd try busking.  Afterall, we're cheap, talented, er, well, spirited, then.  First bar said no... but the manager had no idea what old-timey meant.  I planned to take Keeper in with me.  At least he looks respectable.  The second place liked the idea but had no place to sit.  The third was a pizza place.  Keeper was lookin' good and I started in on my pitch... one hour of play for free food.  Pretty good deal, I thought.  There were some other old farts like us in there already.  We figured they'd know what our music was about.  The manager hummed and hawed. 

Manager:  "So you want food, eh?  How much do you eat?"
BH:  "Not much... maybe just pizza?"
Manager:  "So, you gonna drink, too?"
BH:  "No, well yes.  But we'll buy our own booze, you just feed us."
Manager:  "And you'll play for TWO hours, right?"
BH:  "No, just one."
Manager:  "Hmmmm."
BH:  "Ok, how about we play for one hour, you feed us, we buy beer.  If folks like us, we'll play for the second hour, you buy beer. No more food."
Manager:  "Deal."

Keeper and I went back to share our good news with Gil and Fin.



We played for an hour... and had 10 beers between us.  Uhhh.  Yeah, it was fun.  Yeah, they loved us.  But I started to think that manager was smarter than he looked (he had to be... I'd kissed something that looked like him earlier).  At 50, pizza and beer makes you, well, sleepy.  We didn't make the next hour.  But wait!  There was a surprise in the audience!

Jim Riley, a happy, red-cheeked guy that lives in Walker sat there listening.  He was enthused!  He approached us to ask a favor. 

Jim: "How about playing for the American Legion tomorrow morning?  I can promise you breakfast!?"



Whoa!  TWO meals in one effort!  We accepted Mr. Riley's fine offer, retired to our beds for the night and dreamed of cold, ugly fish and sawing logs (that was from Gil snoring).  The next morning we made our way to the American Legion where we were greeted by 20 happy folks!  They passed the hat and we raised a remarkable amount of money.  Why, we came close to paying for gas... the kind we put in Gil's car.  The rest of us had enough gas from the pizza and beer the night before.  Oh, that lead to a new band rule about the unannounced release of noxious fumes WHILE PLAYING!  Verboten!!  But I digress. 

There was more good news!  We got yet another invitation to play.  Seems the manager of the American Legion took a fancy to our spirited play and asked us to return for the Fishing Opener in May... as a PAYING gig!  How could we refuse?  Money, people, food, music, fish... all the ingredients for a fun weekend!  We accepted!

The rest of the day we spent playing and sight-seeing around the Eelpout Festival.  Here's a few photos of the activities.  Yes, those young girls in grass skirts really did jump into that cold water.  And yes, that is a helicopter on the lake.  There were also 4 ultralight aircraft and a legion of snowmobiles.  Did I mention they had a rugby tournament and a stock car race?  We were buzy playing so didn't get to see, but a good time was had by all.  Oh, as you're looking, don't miss some of the special camp sites (the beaver hut, le Pout and the street signs). 

   

  

    

 

No, I wasn't visiting Camp Cameltoe, I was just walking.

Are we crazy enough to do this again next year?  You bet!!  We're hoping we just might get some more crazy people to join us.  



Hey, once you kiss an eelpout, you can only go up!

Bullhead

Ok.  First, does everybody know what an eelpout is?  If you're from Minnesota, you'd know.  It's the ugliest fish known to mankind (see below). 

Told ya.  Every year up on Leech Lake there's a festival to see who can catch the biggest of these little, er, beauties. Now, a name like Eelpout doesn't just come along every day.  So we, uh, stole it.

Introducing the Eelpout Stringers, an old-time band of old guys from Minnesota.  We decided to make a CD of some of our favorite tunes for family (loosely speaking) for Christmas.  But before you listen in, first, meet the fishheads. 

On guitar, the least hairy of the crew, clean-cut poster boy, Loyd.

Third hairiest is bass player, Karl.  He really cleans up nice, too.

Then there's Nick.  This spry young guy ran a marathon on his 50th birthday.  Impressive!

Then there's the big, hairy fish himself, me (Craig).

Man.  Look at me workin' here!  Woo-hoo!  More impressive, check out this group glamour shot (taken by my lovely Ms. DeAnne).

Not bad for a bunch of flounders, eh?

We're thinkin' about calling our first CD "Somethin's Fishy."  You can hear some select cuts here (on Banjohangout).  If the link doesn't work, here's the URL:

http://www.banjohangout.org/myhangout/music.asp?id=8335

Enjoy the tunes, folks.