Guest Column
I first found out about the Okie Noodling Fest back in February when my friend from Stillwater informed me that she was going and my attendance would be mandatory.
“Noodling? As in pasta?” In my defense, I thought I heard her say “Noodle Fest.” She explained that it would be in Pauls Valley, Oklahoma, on Father’s Day weekend, and there would be a live band, big catfish and a good old-fashioned Okie time. And I never turn down an excuse to come to Oklahoma and have a good Okie time.
In May, I went home to Kansas, where I’m originally from, and was telling my aunt and uncle about my upcoming travels. On my mom’s side of the family, we have hunters and noodlers. On my dad’s side, we have school teachers and farmers. I was talking to the hunters and noodlers on this occasion.
I told them that they ought to drive down and meet me there. I live in Fort Worth now and it would be a great spot to meet in the middle. They agreed, invited a few of my cousins and we looped in my other uncle from New Mexico who said he would fly in too. Kansas was about to make an appearance at the Okie Noodling Fest.
Not knowing what to expect, I did some research and found prior pictures and videos of the event including a catfish cook-off, noodling demonstrations, a catfish eating contest, and an Okie Noodling Queen competition.
I got off work on Friday, headed north, ate dinner at The Grille, and then got a good night’s sleep at the hotel before going downtown the next morning.
Vendors for about everything you can think of were already set up. I looked high and low for a t-shirt that said “No Hooks, No Bait, No Fear,” like the banner on the side of the stage. I had no luck.
As the competitors started rolling in to weigh their catfish, the announcer gave the rundown of all the competitions they would have that day. I signed my uncle up for the men’s wet t-shirt contest. He refused, which I thought was pretty lame, and was sure to let him know. He threw me a $20 bill for beer and bought me a turkey leg for lunch so I’d quit picking on him about it.
When they announced from the stage they needed one more contestant for the queen competition, I ran and asked the nice lady at the registration tent if you had to be from Oklahoma. She said no, so I entered and went up on stage.
Long story short, after working hard to earn the title - I won.
That’s right, I’m the Kansas Queen of the Okie Noodling Festival.
I was crowned as noodlers continued bringing massive catfish on stage to get them weighed and checked for lead. If I hadn’t been there, I might not have believed any of it had happened. It was surreal.
After my coronation, I spent the rest of my day handing checks and awards to tournament winners, taking pictures with the kindest strangers and talking about noodling. A family from Missouri even invited me to the big family fish fry they have every fall. As the sun set, I wondered how I had never heard of this event before and started making plans to come back every year until I die.
As the concert began and The Great Divide took the stage, the beer stand got busy, and the smell of the food trucks got stronger. I realized all I had eaten that day was the turkey leg, so I went and begged the corn dog guy to make me one even though he had closed his doors and already started cleaning. He agreed, and I can honestly say it was the best corn dog I have ever had.
It was worth missing the shout out I got from the band while I sat on the curb and ate my corn dog.
I want to give a big thank you to the community of Pauls Valley for working tirelessly to continue this event. It is truly one of a kind, and I saw all of the event staff working hard, sweating profusely, with a smile still on their face. Oklahoma should be very proud it has a community like yours.
The 25th Okie Noodling Festival was a day I will never forget. I feel bad for everyone that wasn’t there and I already can’t wait for next year. I am honored to be your queen; I will wear my crown proudly, as a born Kansan but an Okie at heart. It’s already an accomplishment I have added to my resume. I’ll see you next year, Pauls Valley!
