My Axe Venue Is Closing: Long Live Meduseld!

The Meadery, after seven (?) years of hosting some form of axe throwing or another, is shutting its hall on Sunday. As far as axe venues go, it’s a tiny place – just 4 axe lanes. We could only do big axe on one side, because the other side had HVAC ductwork. The boards were almost always full of knots, or discolored. But man, I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Now, it seems, I get the opportunity to experience at least part of what axe throwers all over have gone through: the shuttering of my home axe venue.

We marked this closing by having back-to-back marathon tourneys, one standard, one premier. And I learned a few things during those final Meduseld marathons. First, my body is not one made for back-to-back marathon tourneys. Also: this closure is affecting me more than I imagined it would.

As it turns out, you can’t spend the entirety of your axe career calling one little, dark axe house your home venue without feeling a certain way when it shuts down. I don’t wanna suggest that I went through the stages of grief or anything, but I definitely experienced some wacky arc of acceptance, to anger, to bargaining, to acceptance, to disbelief, to acceptance, to a different sort of acceptance.

And like…I guess a big part of it is emotional, but another big part of it is practical: The owners of the meadery, namely Thane Willie, is going to create a new space for us about 30 minutes away. That’s a rare outcome when an axe house closes, and I know it. But I’m used to walking for about 10 minutes to get to the Meadery, but now I’ve gotta travel. Granted, not super far, but farther than I’ve ever had to travel to throw in a league.

Plus the space is basically a garage. Rather than wood floors, we’ll have concrete ones. And there won’t be cooling, but there will be heating. And it’s not the place I threw my first 81, or won my first match, or made so many of the friends I have now. It’s just different, and it’s hard to cope with different when something is so close to your heart.

But I guess I should have expected this, like so many of us. Axe houses close. Passion doesn’t pay bills. And the best hope I can have is that the move brings in a bunch of new people and we end up becoming stronger for it — but there’s also a lingering feeling that this is just a part of the long defeat. That is to say: this is life support for something that won’t make it much longer. I hope not. Willie has certainly expressed that he’s not giving up on us — but that doesn’t mean the little whisper of “what if” hasn’t been taking up a big part of my thinking for a while, now.

Last night, I threw the last league night I’ll ever throw at Meduseld. I truthfully didn’t feel very different until the very end, walking out of the place. The Meadery introduced me to axe throwing, and watched me grow as a thrower and as a…I guess a character in this sport. I’ll miss it a lot, and it’ll hold a place in my axe-throwing makeup.