When three people, independent of each other, suggested I try axe throwing for an article, I knew this had to be my next adventure.  I had no idea what this would entail so I figured I’d need to do a little investigating. But then that’s kind of the point of me trying all these different activities, that I step into the unknown.  Besides, I finished re-watching all six seasons of Downton Abbey so my weekends were free again.

As I researched the axe-throwing phenomenon, I picked up on a few themes.  One was to appeal to the Inner Viking that apparently lives within us all. Another was that it seems to have gained traction in Canada, which makes sense—take the British penchant for throwing things at a target (darts), add crazy Canadians, and the result is a world axe throwing league.

Another commonality among the places I found was that they each require closed-toed shoes (no sandals).  Yet they also all serve alcohol. I think it was at this point that some of my acquaintances who were potential participants decided to rethink their availability for this event.  (The $25 price tag was probably also a contributing factor.)

I went into this outing with a number of expectations.  I assumed it would be all a bunch of hard core sweaty guys, yelling over heavy metal music.  I thought I wouldn’t fit in, given my lack of upper body strength due to my scrawny bird leg arms.  I had already decided I would use the two-handed throwing method; I steer away from activities that force me to be one-sided.

I’m also extremely myopic.  I questioned whether this combination of traits really made me a good candidate for flinging sharp, heavy objects.  (To put it in perspective, my vision with glasses is only slightly better than that of my octogenarian father without glasses.)  It turns out the target was both really big and close enough for me to hit it maybe 75% of the time, which was certainly much better than I anticipated.

I’d like to think I have a small stash of knowledge about weaponry from hanging out with history enthusiasts all these years—everyone from Renaissance Faire geeks to Dungeons and Dragons dorks.  As such, I was expecting something that looks like the king with the axe on playing cards (the king of diamonds, for all you card sharps). Or else something that Paul Bunyan would shoulder around.

But I believe what I tossed about is more accurately called a hatchet.  Think of Last of the Mohicans, except that the hatchet didn’t whip around in multiple rotations before hitting its target.  Also, there was no shirtless Daniel Day-Lewis with flowing hair. (And he wielded a tomahawk anyway, so never mind.)

The sound of the wood target splitting when I got a hit was truly satisfying.  But otherwise I’d say it was quite the mellow vibe. It reminded me of a hobby with a communal aspect like bowling or archery.  Perhaps it was the result of booking on a Sunday afternoon. Or maybe they just wanted to encourage a family-friendly atmosphere; there were some silly hats and costume accessories that you could have fun with.

Many people asked me about it afterward and I felt I was disappointing them without some wild and crazy story.  I wasn’t even sore the next day. Maybe that’s the life lesson here; don’t assume something will be super weird until you give it a try.  If you overcome your apprehension about new experiences then you just might stumble upon an idea for your next social gathering.