***
Whoever thinks that large men in skirts aren't throw-me-down sexy has never walked around large groups of them. And any man who would feel girly or silly or self-conscious wearing a kilt needs to get over that real quick, because, I'm telling you, a man in a kilt is an out-and-out babe-magnet. Just sayin'. There was a thick, but invisible cloud of testosterone floating around the entire festival, and it was quite heady. See for yourself:
The wind was a-whippin', an added bonus to those of us enjoying the bevy of bare-legged boys in skirts. Of course, I imagine most of the guys were prepared for the weather and were not wearing their kilts regimental. Our loss.
This fellow in the middle leaves nothing to the imagination, unfortunately:
Biker shorts. Sigh. He killed the fantasy.And, if you can't buy a kilt for whatever reason, then make one. Out of duct tape:
It's okay to bring your dogs to the event. Many, many people did, because at some point there's a "blessing of the animals", but we missed that. Some pooches even sported their clan's tartan:
I'll bet he's wearing it regimental!***
First, the caber toss. It takes six men to carry that tree:
shades of Iwo Jima***
But only one can toss it:
-oh, almost made it!
-
there ya go, fella!
***Next is the sheaf toss -- basically, throwing a heavy burlap bag with a pitchfork over a bar:
And then there's the:
Contrary to popular belief, that is not a contest between nagging wives, but rather is an actual axe-throwing competition. Anyone could sign up to try:
That woman on the end tried to throw an axe with a purse on her shoulder. She was not successful, as you might have guessed.
***
If one was not interested in the more athletic events, once could still participate in the elbow-bending competition:
And even at a Celtic festival, one can find fibery goodness:
I've always wanted one of these rings, but the vendor didn't have one in my size.
Maybe next year I'll get one. And maybe next year, I'll go both Saturday and Sunday! All kilts, all the time!
I have made light with all the eye-candy-in-skirts references, but this really is a wonderful event, and there's so much more that I didn't capture here. Each represented clan had its own tent which flew their own tartan's colors. There was a tent where a helpful person would look up various family surnames for you to find your particular tartan. Hundreds of attendees of all ages wore tartans in a fascinating variety of colors. On Saturday night, my friends attended a formal dinner for the Henderson clan, and met the international chief of that clan, in town all the way from Australia. Everyone was incredibly friendly, the food was yummy, (typical bad-for-you festival food - yes, I had funnel cake), and the music, ohhhhh, the music.
I don't know what it is, but something about standing in such close proximity to core-vibrating bagpipe music moves me in such a way that I am helplessly reduced to tears. Thank God I was wearing sunglasses. Here's a little sampling of it:
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Bagpipers
***
We ended our lovely day by watching another wonderful group of musicians called "Poisoned Dwarf", perform in the Dewar's tent:
-Poisoned Dwarf
***
***
I am an instant convert to this incredible event, so you better know I'll be there next year.
Wearing plaid!
Wearing plaid!
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