Downtown Winslow was again the site of the annual, legendary, elusive, much-whispered-about Scotch Broom Festival Thursday afternoon.
The impromptu yearly Bainbridge tradition was greeted by horn honks, cheers and, yes, some confusion from passers by and those out enjoying the sunny downtown sidewalks and Madrone Lane.
Following the traditional tiddlywinks match, Lara Lant was crowned as the 2015 Scotch broom queen.
Lant, a Bainbridge Island resident since 1976, said it was a privilege of “the highest honor.”
As her first royal proclamation, Lant decreed that everyone take the rest of the day off from work. She quickly added, however, that her absolute power ended when the parade did – in about 20 minutes.
A joke was made inferring that Lant was lucky not to be allergic to the festival’s namesake plant, as she had to wear a crown of the stuff and hold a bouquet.
“Local girls, we can handle our Scotch broom,” the queen cooly replied.
The festival is a quirky island tradition dating back to 1965, when Kiwanis member John Rudolph began the event as a joke.
Legend has it, Rudolph was contacted by somebody who was doing a guide book for the state, they were looking into all the different festivals and fairs around Washington, and in need of some additional material for the Bainbridge section.
Rudolph was happy to oblige.
He spun for the stranger a magical tale about a time-honored festival in which island residents observe a tiddlywinks match, crown a queen and march through the downtown streets waving the region’s most iconic weed.
Of course, no such festival existed, but that was of no concern to the prankster at the time.
“Some months later somebody showed up looking for the event,” remembered Mickey Molnaire during last year’s festival. “So, they decided they better do something [and] they threw together this parade.”
Molnaire, the previous queen, is also the wife of Ron Konzak — one of the quirky event’s original co-creators.
This year’s festival, however, was not without its obstacles, including a surly construction worker who tried to move the gathered revelers from their traditional starting point in front of Town & Country and also the failure of the chariot – a super charged white roadster – to start.
No matter.
The faithful persevered.
The crazy court simply explained things to the workman and simply switched to a slightly less luxurious royal ride, and things proceeded as planned.
The festival is traditionally an underground event, shrouded in secrecy, with minimal planning and no formal notification whatsoever. Yet, psychic perhaps, those islanders more in the know always find themselves downtown in front of Town & Country with bunches of Scotch broom around 1 p.m. on the same day.