Words: 1,357

Single in Sandpoint

Of mud and men: Scarlette does The Bog

     It’s finally warm. In other parts of the country that means BBQs, bike rides, bikinis and tans. In North Idaho, however, nothing officially kicks of summer like the Mud Bogs at Moyie Springs.

     This year my curiosity got the better of me and I decided finally to attend the area’s premiere mud-loving event. I’ve been hearing about this legendary party since I moved to Sandpoint nearly two years ago, but never attended because I was always doing something else (and I don’t exactly love mud or male-centric vehicle-based sporting events). However, I do love spectacle, and I do love a party – I was assured that the Mud Bogs would provide both in ample quantities. 

     But before I go on, for those of you who don’t know what Mud Bogging is, I’ll give you a brief definition: Mud Bogging is when people (mostly men, but there are a few women who participate) take their 4-wheel-drive vehicles and drive them through large muddy pits.  

     The Moyie Springs Mud Bogs is a giant party of about 7,000 people who come from near and far to the outskirts of Bonners Ferry, Idaho to drink truckloads of alcohol and watch people drive their vehicles through the mud.

     Obviously, as a professional observer of people, I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to view that kind of spectacle. I was pretty stoked to see all the mullets, custom-made 4-wheel-drives and mud. 

     I had so many questions that needed answering: “Is it an actual competition? Do people get naked and wrestle in the pits? Is there dancing? Where does the mud come from? Is it a secret society? Do I need to know a handshake or code word in order to get in? Where is Moyie Springs?”

     I begged Board Shorts to take me. He didn’t want to go – apparently he had some deep dark incident at the Mud Bogs a few years ago, and has since retired. I was insistent. I’d never been to a mud bog, and I needed to check this off on my “list of things to do before I die”    

     “You don’t want me to die incomplete do you? Please there will be lots of cool trucks there.” 

     As a man, he could not resist the temptation of a lawless place where the vehicles are big, muddy and angry, and the only way to watch them ear-splittingly scream by is with a beer in one hand and your fist in the air. All good, red-blooded American men can appreciate a big truck and beer. It takes them right back to the days when they trashed their Tonka trucks and shotgunned Kool-Aid. Seriously, even the most metrosexual, white-collared CEO will whistle in appreciation at a classic Chevy truck. It’s like death and taxes, you know? Dependable. 

     Which leads to a natural question: What kind of women attend these events? My answer: smart ones. 

     Yeah, maybe when you hear “monster trucks and mud” you think “white trash,” but look past your preconceived notions – dig deep – it’s raining MEN, at the Mud Bogs in Moyie Spring, and most of them are between the ages of 21 and 40 and they’re shirtless. 

     The women at the mud bogs are geniuses – they understand the law of supply and demand. Armed in star spangled bikinis and shirts that said “Got Balls,” the female bogger is a sophisticated connoisseur of the young American male.

     Single in Sandpoint Ladies, you better get your asses up there next year – I’m not going to listen to you complain about there being no opportunities to date if you’re sitting at the edge of a fresh water spring and refuse to drink. Okay: The ratio was about 5 to 1 in the favor of women, and in a crowd of 7,000 you could have found love. If only for one night.

     I’m not saying they were the cream of the crop, but there were more men at the bogs than are actually residing in Sandpoint – you do the math.

     I however, have a boyfriend, and wasn’t there to shop for a mate, just taking notes for my faithful readers. For those of you who do have a boyfriend, take him to the bogs, chances are you’ll have fun and he’ll have to take you to a chick flick or shopping for repayment (it’s a win-win).

     Which reminds me: You can actually shop at the bogs, if you so desire. They have a little store that slings various apparel items with Mud Bog themes on them. One such T-shirt proclaimed “Moyie Mud Bogs – Go in Faster Come out Harder”. I think that’s what it said, the verbiage my have varied slightly (I was a few beers into it when I took my shopping trip). Now that I think of it, you could also purchase a pair of “G-Cut Panties” with the same phrase on them. I didn’t buy any though – not for lack of wanting them – it’s just that I blew all my money on the $20 cover charge. (Which I’m told goes to paying the water bill and, of course, for the fleet of port-a-potties.)

Now, since there are no official awards given out at the bogs, I’ll hand out my own. 

Best Presentation

     That award goes to the vehicle driven by Sandpoint’s own Ben Spinney. Spinney and his collaborators (all Sandpoint boys themselves) brought the giant beast up to Moyie and it was a magnificent work of art, complete with elk racks and complete elk spines zip-tied to the roll bar. 

     I don’t know what kind of truck it was – it was big and, in my opinion, vintage. The general design was set off by some Pabst Blue Ribbon Stickers – very “Mad Max” meets North Idaho. I’m not going to lie, that thing was sweet. (I would tell you what the name was, but it was covered in mud so I couldn’t read it. I thought about wiping it away but I wasn’t sure what would happen if I touched it. It thing looked like an off-road vehicular version of Darth Vader. I mean, it was half-beast half-machine. I’ll just keep my spine thanks.) 

Best Vehicle Name

     “Mudalica,” which was painted as an exact replica of the band Metalica’s logo. It was clever, futuristic even. A close second goes to Hell Burbon, and the Taminator (driven by a female, who must be named Tammi?). Honestly there may have been some better names out there, but the mud made them hard to read.

Best Sportsmanship

     This one goes to the little old man driving the tractor. He worked tirelessly rescuing people who got stuck in the mud, and managed to keep clean and smiling through the entire day. This man was a saint as he had his work cut out for him – people just couldn’t control their desire to take part in the action, so you’d see a stock minivan or blazer full of kids flying through the mud, and inevitably get stuck. 

     It was like the drivers had sat there all day and, under the combined influence of their begging kids and beer, become convinced that the reason they bought their 4-wheel drive SUV wasn’t to take the kids to soccer, burn fuel and look pretentious, it was actually for boggin!

     I would have loved to be a fly on the wall when those guys brought their vehicles back home. “How did you manage to get mud on our Eddie Bower Limited Edition leather seats, I thought you took the boys to Bonner’s Ferry to look for river rock for my flower bed. It’s Mother’s Day, remember?” I’m sure the conversations went something like that…

     Anyway, I had fun, and I will probably go again next year. It was that entertaining. I may even participate. In fact, I’ve already got a name for my vehicle: BOG BITCH. Now I’m lookin’ for a few smoking hot ladies to be on my pit crew. Send your applications to my MySpace page, www.myspace.com/scarlettequille.

     Whether you live here or are just passing through: you are in North Idaho now, and if you can’t beat ‘em you might as well bog with ‘em.

XOXO

Scarlette Quille