Today is the last day of the festival, the most taxing day of all. Not only do we–for some reason I’ve forgotten–do four combat shows on Saturday, rather than three, but when it’s done tonight we tear down our camp and pack our vehicles for the trip home tomorrow.

One traditional aspect of Viking events for me is wondering (as I leave for the destination) what (not if I have, but what) I’ve forgotten. This year my big mistake was a conscious one. Conscious but stupid.

For years people have told me that I tend to overpack. So as I was leaving the house, I started to pick up my brief case and said to myself, “I don’t need this. I’ve got my laptop case. Don’t need both.”

Wrong, of course. I’d forgotten that the brief case held 1) some information on our next event that I was supposed to give to some people, and 2) the DVD of my book trailer, which I could have run on a continuous loop for advertising, if I’d thought to bring it.

As for my success in fighting, not very good. Didn’t win a single bout yesterday. Despite what Ragnar always says, youth and speed do frequently defeat old age and treachery.

Crowds are definitely down at Hostfest this year. The main cause, I think, is lack of accommodations for the large tour groups which usually show up. But spirits are high, or at least not low. Everybody seems to be happy that they’re carrying on with the festival at all.

My combat success has not been signal. After I did my first fight on Wednesday, I made the decision to switch to the battle axe as a weapon. It’s kind of ironic that I’ve become the designated axe man in our group, since I’m probably the most attached to the sword, emotionally, of all of us. But I’ve got the most training with the axe, so it’s up to me to figure out how to fight with the thing, and pass the information on. My problem is two-fold–plain unfamiliarity, plus the fact that I tend to lose my grip on the axe haft. I never lose my sword, unless I’m actually injured. But I have a hard time keeping the axe in hand with my protective glove on.

Did win one fight, though. There was also an interesting moment when my mighty axe blow embedded the weapon in my opponent’s shield so firmly that I couldn’t get it out again. Exciting for the spectators, though I got killed.

Ragnar’s hip is hurting him, so I’m mostly fighting with the boys, ages 15 and 19. Not bad for a 61-year-old coal chewer (a saga reference. Look it up).

The first day went well. Crowds were good (not great, but first day is generally light). My impression is that people in Minot may not have homes, but they tend to have money to spend.

Flood damage is particularly evident in the area around the fairgrounds, where the festival is held. Lots of houses with dirty water lines on the outside walls, ruined household junk piled outside. Some have FEMA trailers parked in the yards, but most are abandoned for the moment.

A restaurant we always used to patronize is boarded up and dead. Some traffic lights are out, and others no longer have left turn signals working, for some reason.

But the festival soldiers on. One thing I appreciate particularly is that a new group has joined the rotation at the Copenhagen Hall stage, around the corner from our Viking World. It’s a very impressive family band (seven kids) that actually does some music I like. I didn’t think such a phenomenon existed in the world anymore.

Can’t make the WiFi work from the Viking camp at the moment, but I’m making this quick post from a booth sponsored by SRT Communications (credit where credit’s due, and all that).

If you’re looking for work, I might suggest Minot. Jobs are going begging around here. There are three caveats to that statement of fact, however:

1. Once you get here, you’ll find out there are better paying jobs further west, where the oil boom is booming in a booming way. Which is one reason so many jobs are unfilled here.

2. Housing is very limited, due to flood damage.

3. North Dakota winters.

Nevertheless, for those looking for jobs and a decent community to live in, you could do a lot worse than Minot, North Dakota.

It’s about time for Hostfest to begin, so I’ll sign off for now.

A couple nights every week, my renter plonks himself down in front of my desktop computer in the dining room, and dominates it for a few hours around suppertime. Although he has his own computer and is on my network, he claims this old, slow Dell handles certain streaming downloads better than his does. So I have to wait, because I’m passive.

Tonight was one of those nights. It’s also bill-paying night on my schedule. And since I’m going to be gone next Thursday, I had to pay two weeks’ worth of bills. So I overcame my OCD enough to do the bills before I blogged, rather than after, as is my custom.

And this is what I blogged. Just to show you how flexible I am.

“Hi! Where are you from?”



I hate the “Mystery Viking.”



The Mystery Viking is an ancient tradition at the annual Norsk Høstfest in Minot, North Dakota.

The idea is that when you’ve got a bunch of Scandinavians all together, there’s likely to be little or no actual social interaction going on, unless money is to be had.

So somebody is designated “the Mystery Viking.” This unidentified volunteer wanders the halls, waiting for someone to walk up to him (or her) and say, “Hi! Where are you from?” Those are the magic words. The Mystery Viking is authorized to award this person 100 dollars.

That’s how it’s supposed to work.

But in fact, of course, since you’re dealing with Scandinavians, comprehension comes slowly, if at all. People hear about the “Mystery Viking” and think, “I need to go up to someone dressed as a Viking, and ask him where he’s from.” So we Vikings get approached by scores of strangers every day, drawn to us solely by their keen love of… money.

This is only one of the soul-searing trials that face me as I venture out to Høstfest again this year. I’ll be gone all next week. I’ll be doing limited posts, if any, depending on how the WiFi’s working in Copenhagen Hall.

We don’t know how the festival will go this year, in the wake of the devastating flooding the city has seen. A friend who lives in Minot told me the people are pretty exhausted, but he also thinks they need some diversion. Accommodations look to be a challenge (though we Vikings are taken care of).

So if you’re in the area, stop in and say hello. Just remember not to ask where I’m from.

I’m generally armed when playing Viking at Høstfest.