Sponsors pay $50 to put up a sign, and chuckers win $50 for knocking it down!
Check out these Web sites for more information. »For video and information about the St. Denis
Cabbage Chuck, www.cabbagechuck.com.
» For more about Great Lakes Kraut, or for some amazing and unusual sauerkraut recipes, visit www.greatlakeskraut.com/recipes/tabid/71/Default.aspx
» Thinking about building your own catapult? Visit www.catapultkits.com.
» For information about the world championship Punkin Chunkin event in Delaware, visit www.punkinchunkin.com.
The King of Cabbage
You could call Larry Van Straten the Cabbage King… and he likely wouldn’t disagree or be offended. After all, the leafy vegetable runs in his blood—almost literally. He grew up on a cabbage farm and has been planting the vegetable himself for more than 30 years.
The Shiocton native is proud to supply the heads of cabbage that will eventually be launched, chucked, tossed, catapulted and rocketed through the air each September at the village’s famous Cabbage Chuck.
Van Straten’s involvement appears to have been pre-ordained. He has a photo of his father planting cabbage in the 1940s on the site of the St. Denis church parking lot—helping raise money for the church. So even decades ago, cabbage appears to have been a lucky charm for the village.
And it ought to be. The region is known as one of the cabbage capitals of the world, thanks to its soil and temperature, according to Van Straten. “It’s a sandy loam and a little bit lower ground. [Plus we have] cooler and wetter summers.”
Van Straten and his father together plant 2,300 acres of field crops—about 300 of those are filled with cabbage. Cabbage is sold by the ton, Van Straten said. He gets about 45 tons per acre, supplying most of his crop to Great Lakes Kraut in Bear Creek, which produces sauerkraut.
“You can only put cabbage on the ground every five years,” said Van Straten of the crop he rotates every six or seven years.
Planting is done in mid May, with most harvesting done around Labor Day. By Halloween, the season is done.
The Cabbage Chuck, then, may seem appropriately timed; however, Van Straten said it does occur during the harvest, so it can be a press on his time to get everything done. (In addition to supplying cabbage, Van Straten also works the cabbage relay event).
Van Straten Farms donates 500 heads of cabbage— about 1-1/2 pickup truckloads—to the Cabbage Chuck.
The event’s committee comes to his farm, weighs the heads and handpicks the ones they want.
It’s all very precise, but, ultimately, it’s all in good fun for what has become the area’s most notable event.
“During the day, they’re steady chuckin’ heads all day long,” he said.
When you were growing up, if your mother told you to “eat your cabbage,” you probably wished you could have just chucked it at her. Now you can, and you won’t even get reprimanded. In fact, you might even get cheered!
Whatever the modus operandi—whether by way of catapult, trebuchet, air cannon or good old shoulder power— chucking heads of cabbage is the pastime of choice at what could be termed the region’s biggest food fight, of sorts. The St. Denis Cabbage Chuck, held at Shiocton Lake Park, is one of the most anticipated and rollicking annual events in Wolf River Country. This year’s fifth annual event was held Saturday, Sept. 18.
“It’s a lot of fun for everybody,” said Pat Peeters of neighboring Bear Creek. He and about a dozen family members—known as Peeterz Boyz Toyz—have fielded a team every year. “It’s great just watching the reaction of the people.”
From Chicken to Cabbage
The “world championship” Cabbage Chuck, as it has been touted—although it’s not really known how many other similar events are held worldwide—is not just about a bunch of people tossing around vegetables. The event not only has a storied history, but a charitable component as well.
For many years, St. Denis CatholicChurch—home to about 280 members— hosted a chicken dinner as its annual fundraiser. According to parish member Ann Shears, a member of the event’s planning committee, it was a lot of fun, but it was a lot of work compared to the rather modest profits (about $1,000) the dinner raised.
A few years ago, however, some former parishioners saw a “punkin chunkin”competition and considered a similar event as a church fundraiser. But why heads of cabbage—a modest vegetable that some people either love or hate?
According to Shears, the area is the largest cabbage producing region, per capita, in the world. And Bear Creek is home to Great Lakes Kraut, which has been producing sauerkraut for more than 100 years.
Not everyone was a believer in the idea. “Some thought it was the craziest thing they’d ever heard of,” said Shears. But in 2006, the first Cabbage Chuck was held; it carried with it its own list of rules (“No explosives!”) and competition divisions (yes, there is a “little sprouts” division, where they shoot Brussels sprouts). The goal is relatively simple—chuck a head of cabbage the farthest by whatever means possible.
Perhaps surprising to some doubters, the first Cabbage Chuck drew about 500 attendees and raised more—about tenfold more—Shears said—than the more modest chicken dinners. She added that the event has grown each year; it now draws about 3,000, with profits consistently increasing each year. The money raised goes to the church, which in turn, gives money back to local organizations.
Just how much fun can it be watching adults and children playing with their food? “It is a hoot,” said Shears. In 2008, her two sons won the largest cabbage contest, entering a head weighing 47 lbs.
Part of the fun is watching the teams themselves—both in the competition and as they prepare their “flingers” of choice. With team names like Team Sledgehammer, Green Machine, Vegamatic and even the MotherChuckers, these are no chump chuckers. It’s serious business.
Just ask Peeters, who, appropriately enough, grew up in the area planting cabbage. He’s been involved since the Cabbage Chuck’s inception—and holds the distinction of having the only air cannon in the event. His massive cannon, powered by an air compressor and pulled on a semi-trailer, features a 68-foot barrel (with a 10-inch diameter). Its power capacity is just shy of 100 lbs. psi—enough to power his longest launch of 5/8 of a mile.
Another smaller unit is pulled with a tractor, and a third unit—a smaller double-barrelled cannon—allows the younger team members to launch gourds.
Peeters said he built the cannon several years ago for pumpkin chucking. “That’s what got us going,” he said. It’s both a costly and a dangerous hobby (Peeters does carry liability insurance), but Peeters enjoys the fun of the competition and the thrill of the crowd.
Shiocton has only about 900 residents, but Shears said attendees come from miles away to witness the spectacle—both of flying cabbages and of the amazing homemade launching machines. Tourists in the area from as far away as New York have even passed through, upon hearing of this offbeat event.
In addition to the chucking, the event (held rain or shine) includes refreshments (all array of cabbage and kraut dishes, of course), a silent auction, cabbage relay games, largest cabbage contest, a flyover by the Shiocton Flyers Club and local emcee Ned the Dead. (Previous years’ sauerkraut wrestling events were discontinued due to liability issues).
It’s all helped turn an event that started perhaps as a minor joke—one that people thought might have worked—into an annual success for Shiocton and for Wolf River Country.
Quite simply, Shears said, “People look forward to it every year.”