Long an important part of Evergreen living, the placid waters of Evergreen Lake may soon be just as important to Evergreen dying.
Specifically, a proposal before the Evergreen Parks and Recreation District would clear the way for bereaved mountain residents to conduct Viking burials on the 77-year-old reservoir. “It seems perfectly natural to me,” says Snorri Halvjorsdottir, an event coordinator for Denver Mountain Parks and a co-sponsor of the proposal. “Who wouldn’t want to be launched into Valhalla aboard a flaming longboat on Evergreen Lake? The sanitary and catering facilities can accommodate any number of mourners.”
The practice of setting a departed loved one and their most valued possessions adrift in a burning vessel may have originated in the coastal fjords of 6th century Norway with the warlike Rus people. “There’s no question that Evergreen Lake is kind of fjord-y,” insists Halvjorsdottir. “It may not be very deep, or long, or surrounded by towering granite peaks, but there’s an adjacent 18-hole golf course and the whole west end is a protected wetland.”
Independence Heights resident Beowulf Tryggvason, who wrote the proposal with Halvjorsdottir, got the idea for Viking burials on Evergreen Lake while attending a funeral ceremony at which his great-aunt’s ashes were scattered inside the Mother Lode Casino in Cripple Creek. “It just seemed right,” Tryggvason remembers. “She loved the Mother Lode – the nickel slots, the $2.99 prime rib sandwiches – and that’s where she would have wanted her remains to rest.” Considering the huge numbers of people who regularly fish, boat and picnic at Evergreen Lake, he felt that some provision should be made allowing people to include the site in their eternal game plan. “After all,” he says, “boating on Evergreen Lake isn’t just legal, it’s encouraged. Plus, since they don’t do fireworks at the lake anymore, Viking funerals could be a big summertime draw.”
Skeptical at first, EPRD accountant Sigurd Dynglinga is now strongly behind the initiative. “According to our records,” he explains, “there is usually about 45 minutes between when the pedal boats come ashore and when a private party starts in the Lakehouse. That’s almost an hour when the district isn’t making a dime.” The under-utilized interval, he says, can easily be filled by revenue-producing Viking funerals.
The original proposal included a provision allowing a family member or cherished household retainer to be sacrificed and set adrift with the deceased. “I crunched the numbers myself,” Dynglinga says, “and as tempting as the idea was, we couldn’t really okay it without also agreeing to let heavily-armed women, crazed by grief, run amok after the ceremony. All it would take is one dismembered tourist and we’d never hear the end of it from the Chamber of Commerce.”
In truth, the county may not have the authority to prevent the romantic Norse tradition. “EPRD rules allow the use of private, non-motorized water craft on Evergreen Lake, and this is presumed to include shallow-draft, lashed-plank Viking longboats carrying the fallen to the halls of their fathers.” Those same rules, Dynglinga says, do not discriminate against deceased-American boaters, so long as they are at least 18 years old and sober. “As far as burning the ship to the waterline, well, anybody with a driver’s license who can sign a liability waiver qualifies for a campfire permit.”
The first Viking funeral could take place as early as this June when Evergreen Estates resident Grunnhild Eyrbyggja’s husband, Dorolfur, returns from his annual hunting trip. “If he walks through the door with an MLT luggage tag on his duffle and his pockets full of matches from Caesar’s Palace like he did last year, it’s Gotterdammerung-time.”
Next stop, Hall of the Slain