Every year, about the middle of the summer, the Clams Gather at the beach at BONDI VILLAGE for this prestigious race. This year, despite torrential thundershowers shortly before the start, the skies cleared, and the track was perfect for clams (and people).
For those who've never raced a clam, it goes like this. First, find your clam. (be sure the clam comes from the same lake -- no risking introducing strangers into the lake!). Second, name your clam. Third, bring clam to starters, where a nail polish number is painted on one side, and the clam is lovingly taken to the start line, a line drawn in water about knee deep and marked out with big candles.
While a group of us work to dry the clamshell enough for the polish and record the names, Brian escorts the clams to the official start line, basking in a muffin tin.
It is a Lemans start, with all clams lying on their side. They have to stand up and get going when the race begins.
while the Clams are being entered, we were entertained once again this year by the MUSKOKA MUSIC MEN. There were five of these gentlemen here, in what is known as a Very Large Quartet... singing Barbershop songs, and charming the crowd. Singing acapella (as barbershop quartets do) these boys get totally into the Clam Race Spirit, leading off with their own rendition of "My Wild Racing Clam" and following it with other classical 'clam' songs. You really should have been here. Two years ago, we had to take refuge in Nancy's house when a thunderstorm blew in onto the start, and all the power went off. By candlelight, our guests nibbled on the snacks provided and listened to the Muskoka Music Men tell grand stories and sing wonderful songs. This year, the weather was fine, and they sang outdoors. We love to have them here. This group raises money for people with speech disabilities -- We sing so they may Speak, is their motto. They provide concerts throughout the year, and if you're close to one, you owe it to yourself to attend. They're fabulous.
When all clams are at the start, the race begins with a loud cheer and an explosive firework (last year, Dave almost set fire to the willow tree!) and we all go home for the evening. Watching clams race is like watching paint dry.
But the following morning, about 8.30 a.m., Brian, our resident Clamologist, reappears with the specially calibrated measuring wheel, and the distance each clam has traveled is recorded.
These statistics go to the University of Mass. for a Statistics course, and we have also been told we are the only folk who have records of how far clams go in 12 hours, so the race does its bit to further the lot of humanity.
This year's winner was the entry of a young guest who is here from Korea, Euro Oh. Her clam, Jagoe (which means Clam in Korean), ran 84 inches. Not a world record, but darn good, in an Olympic year! In addition to her medal, her name goes on the much coveted Chowder Bowl. It's getting filled up with names -- we've been racing clams for 27 years!
Second was Kitty Bridges', "Escargo Girl!" who clocked in at 71".
Bronze medal went to Ethan Boivin, with "Clamillion", at 66"
Fourth place went to Breanna Heron's "Green Eggs and Clam" at 64", and
Fifth to Noam Bierstone's "Mussel and Bustle", at 61"
An added interest in this year's race was the head to head political challenge provided by Clams number 45 and 46 -- Barack Oclama and John McClam. It seems somehow entirely appropriate that these two clams ran in circles, bumped into each other, and then went their separate ways. Oclama was the clear winner, however, at 46" to McClam's 18". We'll have to wait to see if Clams can predict politics the way Groundhogs can predict the onset of spring.
My favourite name from this year's entry of 49 clams was "Cockle Doodle Do", Dave Velleman's clam.
This is a slow race -- it starts on a Wednesday evening, finishes Thursday morning, and medals are presented late on Friday. Treasures and Trophies in Huntsville provides the engraving service, and I'm sure he weeps every time we call with this rush job and weird spellings, but it's all in great good fun.
Have to go now... I need to check over the training schedule I'll be drawing up for my clam NEXT summer, since my entry this year, Klameoke, wasn't fit enough, (only ran four inches) and evidently pulled a mussel...
Photos: the Muskoka Music Men, singing My Wild Racing Clam
Brian Tapley and Ben Boivin, in the ceremonial March Down of the famous Chowder Bowl trophy
Brian Tapley with clams ready for the starting line
One of the Start line candles -- which burned until 2 a.m.!
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