50 STATES: Iowa

IF you think that the Iowa State Fair is nothing more than good, old-fashioned family fun, you obviously have never borne witness to its annual blueberry pie competition.

Picture it: The food center, at the far side of the Des Moines-area fairgrounds. Inside, judges are forking down small bites of pie, whispering comments to their attentive assistants. In front of them, hopeful contestants, who have baked into the wee hours the night before, are doing their best to decipher the poker faces.

Jamie Buelt is one of them. As she watches the judges plow through her entry, she can tell immediately that she is out of the running.

“Spillage,” she grumbled.

Sure enough, the judges docked her points for blueberry filling that had spilled onto the crust. Minutes later, another baker emerged triumphant, and the rest filed out, promising themselves to do better next year.

At times, Iowa feels like one big farm. Covered in fields of the corn and soy that feed the world, it makes some sense that Iowans would think nothing of doing battle over something as simple as food. Hockey players may bloody each other on the ice, but in the heat of summer, here in Iowa, women, men and children face off against each other with, among other instruments of war, ice cream, sheep, dairy cows and blueberry pies. It sounds like good fun from afar, but it gets awfully rough up close.

If you’re thinking of heading to the fair this year, you may be a little late on the draw. Organizers estimate attendance of approximately one million people; this year’s event kicks off Thursday and runs through August 23. One million people is a lot, considering that there are just three million Iowans, spread out over thousands of miles. Traffic to the grounds is of the sort one usually associates with the FDR Drive at evening rush. Hint: Park in a nearby lot and walk — after eating your weight in various fried foods (on or off a stick), you’ll be glad for the exercise.

One of the first things you’ll want to see is the fair’s famous butter cow. One imagines an Iowan coaxing a cow from a butter brick like Michelangelo creating David from marble; it can be a little disappointing to learn that the butter creations have chicken wire and wood frames holding them together.

Like everything else around here, the butter sculptures can be controversial. This year, the buzz is on the Michael Jackson butter tribute, which has proved so divisive that the fair asked fans to vote on whether it should be displayed at all. Almost 2-to-1, the vote went against Jackson.

“One of the concerns was he’s not an Iowan,” says a fair spokesman, who added that people also questioned Jacko’s character and connection to the fair, where he last performed in 1971.

Another key attraction is the cattle barn, where preparation for the steer judging takes place. Here, castrated male cattle (call them cows and risk ridicule) are primped like teen beauty queens for the fair’s big Governor’s Charity Steer Show. The public is kept at bay during the thick of it, but it’s an involved process that involves shoe polish, fake hair, and various sprays, soap and brushes. Each steer is judged on his merits, one of which is whether or not the steer can stand properly while being examined. Last year, Delbert, a khaki-colored, 1,382-pound beauty, raised by future farmer Lucas Bravard, took a crushing loss to rival O’Malley, who was selected grand champion. Lucas took the beat like a pro, but had a harder time saying goodbye to Delbert, who he had raised since a mere 600 pounds. (Shortly after, Delbert was auctioned off to a local McDonald’s franchisee.)

After the steers comes Biggest Bull, not to be confused with Biggest Boar. Or, competitive sheep shearing. In the sheep barn, four men line up with their first subjects, waiting for the official “begin shearing” call. Then, each grabs a sheep, shaves it, pushes it roughly to the side and grabs another. An announcer calls the race like a ballgame; spectators fan themselves in the heat. It’s the sort of thing you might expect to see on the Discovery Channel, with better camera angles and close-ups. But the Discovery Channel does not offer viewers lamb on a stick just steps away.

It is not stretching the truth to say that visitors to the fair could find their days filled with competitions. Husband calling, mom calling, rooster crowing. Then, of course, there’s the food. You name it, the fair’s got it. Fried ice cream. Fried pineapple. Fried Snickers bars. The hot beef sundae, which starts with a mound of beef, topped with mashed potatoes, cheese and a cherry tomato. (You can find it at the fair’s Cattlemen’s Beef Quarters, where all cool cattlemen hang out.)

For beverages, if lemonade doesn’t do it, there are beer stands. At night, the families go home and a restaurant called Jalapeño Pete’s comes to life, bringing a little bit of Spring Break Cancun to Des Moines. Here, you can pick up, among other things, a shirt with the slogan: “Go Ugly Early, Beat the 2 A.M. Rush.”

The fair often draws politicians, and along with them come Times Square-style crowds. To help you escape both, and to keep you from having to walk all the way back across the fairgrounds when you’re tired, there are two chair lifts that zip across the chaos at ground level. This is, for instance, a great way to get between the pavilion of competing cows to, say, the food center, which is undeniably the most engaging part of the fair. A little museum-like, the walls were lined with display cases featuring winning pieces of pie, wedding cakes, jellies, pickles and some of the other winners in 800-odd classes of food competitions.

Stick around, and after a couple of days, you’ll start to notice familiar faces and winners. Jamie, whose spillage downed her in the blueberry pie category, ended up taking top honors in meatloaf. Sure, the $75 prize is no match for the $3,000 handed out in the cinnamon roll category, but money and food are both fleeting. A win stays on the books.

THE LOWDOWN

GO: The 2009 Iowa State Fair runs from Thursday until Aug. 23, headlining acts include Peter Frampton, Kelly Clarkson and Brooks & Dunn. Admission to the grounds is $7 in advance, $10 at the gate, with extra costs for rides, food and major events.

INFO:
iowastatefair.org