A couple of years ago, the Iowa State Fair used the slogan Nothing Compares to the Iowa State Fair for its marketing campaign. Which is true. It is by far the biggest and the best. It even has a Broadway musical and a feature film about it. However, I feel if we are comparing sheer bewilderment, then Nothing Compares to the Champlain Valley Fair.I should volunteer right off the bat that I am not the biggest fan of fairs, the Iowa State Fair or otherwise. In the summer of 2004 when
It was Labor Day, 2013. The last day of the fair. We left our home in Burlington and drove fifteen minutes to the Champlain Valley Fairgrounds in Essex Junction. Now, it should be noted that this is NOT the Vermont State Fair. No, that is in Rutland. The Champlain Valley is the low-lying area
along Lake Champlain between the Adirondack Mountains in New York and the Green Mountains here in Vermont. The Champlain Valley has its own fair. We arrived at the fairgrounds right before 11 am. As we pulled in, an older gentleman welcomed us. He took a five dollar bill from us in exchange for a parking pass to hang from our rearview mirror. He smiled. He said, “Welcome to the Champlain Valley Fair! The Ten Best Days of Summer!” Tori thought it was cute. I had my doubts. We followed the parking lot attendant’s guidance to our parking spot. As we walked towards the ticket booth, we both verbalized our concern. “What the hell is this?” we asked. The night before had hosted a Toby Keith concert, yet the desolate, grey fairgrounds didn’t resemble anything that looked like a place where even Toby Keith would show his face. Tori thanked me for coming with her, knowing my discomfort. As we were standing in line to purchase $12 tickets, a nice young lady offered us one for free.
After purchasing our one ticket, we entered and went straight for what Iowan’s call the Varied Industries building. Or the 4H Building. Well, both, combined, but smaller. Basically we went into a
storage shed that had some stuff in it. Iowa has the biggest boar (and its, ahem, assets), Vermont had the biggest pumpkin, which was a big pumpkin. I bought a trucker hat for $5. Not because I am a trucker hat kind of guy, but because it said Freedom Isn’t Free. Which it’s not. See my $5 hat.
After that we went and saw some animals. There was some kind of cow with horns, an oxen? I don’t know. Tori petted a sheep. And piglets. I milked a fake cow, because it was there. We watched chicks hatch. Basically all the rural stuff I never imagined doing in Vermont, we did it. There were goats and miniature horses and all the barnyard regulars one would encounter at a fair.
The carnival portion of the fair can only be described as some sort of David Lynch Nightmare Hellscape. Like the most bizarre deleted scenes of Twin Peaks. Think of the Iowa State Fair’s
Eastsiders’ Night, but without the residents of Waukee wearing jorts ironically. You had the usual carnival barker questioning my manhood because I wouldn’t try to win a stuffed SpongeBob from 2001 for Tori by playing some rigged game. You know the old bottle game where you have to knock bottles off a pedestal and you win a prize? They actually had a sign that said NO CROSS THROWING! OVER HAND ONLY! What? So people finally figured out the key to winning your stupid game and your response is to ban it so your game is now impossible? That’d be like a blackjack dealer in Vegas saying you had to hit on 20. “Whoa, hey. Too many people figured out they can win money if they STAY on 20! Better change the rules to make sure they bust!” To have business practices lower than that of a casino is quite something.
After purchasing our one ticket, we entered and went straight for what Iowan’s call the Varied Industries building. Or the 4H Building. Well, both, combined, but smaller. Basically we went into a
After that we went and saw some animals. There was some kind of cow with horns, an oxen? I don’t know. Tori petted a sheep. And piglets. I milked a fake cow, because it was there. We watched chicks hatch. Basically all the rural stuff I never imagined doing in Vermont, we did it. There were goats and miniature horses and all the barnyard regulars one would encounter at a fair.
The carnival portion of the fair can only be described as some sort of David Lynch Nightmare Hellscape. Like the most bizarre deleted scenes of Twin Peaks. Think of the Iowa State Fair’s
Eastsiders’ Night, but without the residents of Waukee wearing jorts ironically. You had the usual carnival barker questioning my manhood because I wouldn’t try to win a stuffed SpongeBob from 2001 for Tori by playing some rigged game. You know the old bottle game where you have to knock bottles off a pedestal and you win a prize? They actually had a sign that said NO CROSS THROWING! OVER HAND ONLY! What? So people finally figured out the key to winning your stupid game and your response is to ban it so your game is now impossible? That’d be like a blackjack dealer in Vegas saying you had to hit on 20. “Whoa, hey. Too many people figured out they can win money if they STAY on 20! Better change the rules to make sure they bust!” To have business practices lower than that of a casino is quite something.
But the worst, the absolute most mind-boggling, cringe-inducing, dumb-face-causing event was Rat Roulette. What is Rat Roulette? Something that belongs in the film Deliverance. We were walking by the carnival games when we noticed one was far more popular than any of the others. Almost every
seat was taken. We stopped to see why. At first I just saw people placing chips on different colors, and a wheel spinning through my peripheral vision. I just assumed it was some sort of carnie roulette, that they had somehow found a loophole in the state’s gambling laws and were allowing fairgoers to essentially play roulette. I thought that. Until Tori screamed, “Clint! Look!” She grabbed me and turned me towards the wheel. The carnie had a big cup that held an albino rat. An actual, live rat. He would spin his roulette wheel and then dump the rat onto it. The wheel was like a Wheel of Fortune wheel, except that each one had a hole in it instead of a monetary value. People then placed chips on what color on the wheel the rat would run and climb into. I almost threw up. I hate rats. We also passed a t-shirt vendor who was wearing a shirt that said, “Prayer, Just Do It,” while selling a shirt that said, “Welcome to America. Now Speak English or Get The F**K Out!” so, that’s something.
I don’t want to make it sound like this was the worst experience of our lives. We did have fun. We
rode the big Ferris Wheel. Which gave us great views of the Champlain Valley (and the lawnmower races going on below). But of course, as with any fair, the highlight of the trip was the food. While Iowa is all about the Pork Tenderloin, a fair in New England has fried seafood. Tori and I had a basket of fried whole belly clams with fries and coleslaw. I also ordered a Michigan Hot Dog, which I learned is just a hot dog with Coney sauce, and no one in Michigan calls them Michigan Dogs and they were invented in Plattsburgh, NY. The more you know. We even celebrated the triumphant return of the Twinkie by sharing a deep fried Twinkie. This was my first one ever, as I don’t ever go to fairs and don’t particularly eat sweets, but, when in Essex Junction, Vermont, am I right?! And it was glorious! Holy moly! How did Hostess go out of
business? The summer fair circuit and fried Twinkies should have been enough to keep them in business! Amazing, amazing stuff. Like I need to tell all of you, who had your first deep fried Twinkie a decade ago. Sorry. I’m just catching up. As if fried clams, Twinkies, and hot dogs weren’t enough, we ended our inaugural trip to the Champlain Valley Fair with a root beer float from Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream. Perhaps nothing says summer in Vermont better than Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, so it was the perfect end to our first Champlain Valley Fair. The ten best days of summer? Absolutely not. The best three hours of our Labor Day? Definitely.
I don’t want to make it sound like this was the worst experience of our lives. We did have fun. We
rode the big Ferris Wheel. Which gave us great views of the Champlain Valley (and the lawnmower races going on below). But of course, as with any fair, the highlight of the trip was the food. While Iowa is all about the Pork Tenderloin, a fair in New England has fried seafood. Tori and I had a basket of fried whole belly clams with fries and coleslaw. I also ordered a Michigan Hot Dog, which I learned is just a hot dog with Coney sauce, and no one in Michigan calls them Michigan Dogs and they were invented in Plattsburgh, NY. The more you know. We even celebrated the triumphant return of the Twinkie by sharing a deep fried Twinkie. This was my first one ever, as I don’t ever go to fairs and don’t particularly eat sweets, but, when in Essex Junction, Vermont, am I right?! And it was glorious! Holy moly! How did Hostess go out of
business? The summer fair circuit and fried Twinkies should have been enough to keep them in business! Amazing, amazing stuff. Like I need to tell all of you, who had your first deep fried Twinkie a decade ago. Sorry. I’m just catching up. As if fried clams, Twinkies, and hot dogs weren’t enough, we ended our inaugural trip to the Champlain Valley Fair with a root beer float from Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream. Perhaps nothing says summer in Vermont better than Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, so it was the perfect end to our first Champlain Valley Fair. The ten best days of summer? Absolutely not. The best three hours of our Labor Day? Definitely.
Yeee.
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