Tag Archives: Fryeburg fair

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The Fryeburg Fair, part eight…. baaa-d weather et al.

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As I mentioned earlier… the day we chose to go to the fair was overcast and gloomy, though you wouldn’t know it by the crowds.

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But as the day progressed it got darker and we were dodging raindrops by running in and out of livestock buildings.

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During a particular steady shower?

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Sheep.

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Some dressed in coats.

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The variety of wool was impressive and it was nice to find someone with curlier hair than mine for a change.

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But my favorites?

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The Jacobs with their ridiculously weird horns.

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They love a good scratch…

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But don’t tug on the headgear or you’ll get bitten.

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The little guys are so sweet.

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And while it may have been awful outside the building …

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It was dry and comfy under the big roof.

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Fryeburg Fair, part seven… wagons and carts and beer. Oh my.

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Aside from wall to wall cows, my other favorite part of the Fryeburg fair is the carriage museum.

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These beauties are well cared for and painstakingly restored to their former glory.

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Spit on the leeward side. There must be a reason for that…

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A fire hose cart.

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Gypsy wagon.

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Pretty tight living quarters.

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All cars go to Bloomies.

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Snake oil peddler’s wagon.

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Now that’s a beer cart.

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This hearse was fabulous… and delightfully creepy.

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Fryeburg Fair, part six… husband heaven.

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What is it with men and motors?

For my husband the older the better, so he was fascinated to see these vintage ( read, old as dirt) machines up and running.

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His favorite?

The double log splitter.

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I swear he could have stood there all day and listened to it belch purr.

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Ditto the corn sprayer…

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And the shingle cutter.

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Machine or no, that’s a lot of work.

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He also got a large kick out of this relic on the right.

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An early self propelled lawn mower. Christ, it would have to be… it probably weighed 300 lbs.

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Fryeburg Fair, part five… the husband’s favorite section.

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While I love seeing the animals at a fair, my husband prefers the old and rusty things in the village of yesteryear.

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Some interest him from an engineering stand point, some remind him of his childhood on the farm.

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Yes, he spread his share of manure when he was a boy.

Good times.

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There’s a wonderful museum at the Fryeburg Fair filled with antiques. The old wall phone I want to put in the man cave, the one that I’ve been endlessly searching for was right there in the middle… in perfect shape and mocking me with its unavailability.

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Husband got a kick out of these old washing machines.

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This one was called Easy and never has a product been more egregiously misnamed.

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The husband, pointing out all the rusty crap he has at home.

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I can’t imagine dragging this behemoth around every time I wanted to take a picture.

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And because no post about old tools is complete without a game of Name That Crap..

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What is it?

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Fryeburg Fair, part four… disappointing dough and a show.

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I’m pleased to report the giant lemon lemonade stand was operational at the Fryeburg Fair …

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And though it cost a ridiculous $8 per ice laden glass, I purchased one…

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To accompany the husband’s three $10 chicken fingers and $5 bottle of water. $23 for what amounted to a nibble. Welcome to the price gouging, we know you have no alternative, fair food concession stands.

Trying to make up for it, I made a beeline for my favorite fair treat…

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Which sadly was an undercooked, under spiced disappointing piece of fried dough. Boo to that.

I ate said disappointing dough in the grandstand of the pulling ring where the husband likes to watch the draft horses. I don’t enjoy this spectacle as I always feel sorry for the animals. The teams of three are expected to pull double their weight which can end up being 10,000 lbs, and while I know they’re bred and trained for this exact purpose… it still makes me cringe on their behalf.

I did however smile at this happy fellow who started the show in true Fenway Park 7th inning stretch fashion.

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If you’re not a Red Sox fan?

Never mind.

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This team was amazing. Perfectly matched and working completely in unison.

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I may not like it…

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But it’s hard not to be impressed with the strength of these magnificent creatures.

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Fryeburg Fair, part three… where I’m in cow heaven.

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Every agricultural fair in Maine has a few cows, but the Fryeburg Fair has multiple barns devoted to multiple breeds, varieties, colors and sizes.

For a cow lover like me, it’s blissful bovine heaven.

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Look at that beauty!

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Beef cows, dairy cows…

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Large cows that pull things…

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Gentle cows who enjoy a scratch.

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Seriously big ass impressive cows…

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Sweet baby cows.

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There’s even a barn filled with Oreo cookie cows.

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Cows!

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I not so subtly pointed out there were even cows for sale to my husband….

But the man kept right on walking.

😉

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Fryeburg Fair, part two….what we didn’t see and why.

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Before I get down and dirty with all the things we saw at the Fryeburg Fair let me point out a few things we didn’t see.

We didn’t see the agricultural expo or the natural resources building ….

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Because my husband met a man who knew our farming neighbor and had to talk to him for 37 minutes.

We didn’t see the craft show or tour the fiber arts building…

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Because my husband struck up a 24 minute conversation with this nice volunteer who was rebuilding the motor on a vintage harrow.

And we didn’t see the rabbits, goats, llamas or chickens….

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Because my husband met a fellow Marine who was stationed in Beirut, Lebanon during the same awful time. It was the ‘83 bombing that killed 241 servicemen, the largest loss of Marines in a single day since the Battle of Iwo Jima. This was a sad conversation and one I didn’t interrupt… but still.

You know my husband, it wasn’t brief.

🥴

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The biggest and the best.

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I know it’s a little soon after my last series of fair posts, but we hadn’t been to the biggest and best fair in Maine in six years and last week the husband said let’s go.

So we headed west to Fryeburg.

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This was a weird year weather wise, with way too much rain late in the summer so I despaired of finding vibrant fall color.

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Leaves were turning but in muted hues.

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Of course it didn’t help the day we picked to go was gloomy, damp and overcast.

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Still pretty, but not jaw dropping for autumn in Maine.

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Pulling in to the fair grounds parking lot you pass rows and rows ( and rows and rows and rows) of travel trailers occupying every spare inch of ground.

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It’s a virtual RV city and my idea of hell on earth, but to each their own.

Maine doesn’t have an official state fair but Fryeburg is the last of the season, as well as the biggest and the best. Paying our $15 per admission price, we entered the gate by the horses and just missed some live music.

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The band wasn’t there, but the draft horses were and that’s even better.

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Some of these fellas are unbelievably large. I tried taking a selfie behind this guy but he started to back up as I was focusing so I backed up as well. And quite quickly.

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Magic Mike was beautiful…

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As was this dappled grey I would have to name Snowflake.

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For the most part they’re gentle giants but a weeks worth of people gawking and petting would make me want to kick something too.

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The definition of chill?

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Mr. Chunk.

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