Swing an ax and make a new friend at Minneapolis 'stump party'

The midwinter blues heavy on his mind, four years ago a Minneapolis man tweeted out a wild idea. He was tired of the way that locals tend to avoid socializing until spring, and started thinking about how he could bring people together.

Ian Ringgenberg started to think about a few simple ingredients. His backyard in northeast Minneapolis. A tree stump. An ax.

"What if I got a big stump and we all hit it with an ax and called it a party," was how Ringgenberg remembered that initial social post. "People started liking it. I was like, oh, shoot, I could actually make this happen."

That's how stump party took root. The first iteration, in 2022, was held just a handful of days after Ringgenberg's post. He picked up an old piece of rotted wood from a friend, spray painted a hatchet bright red as a trophy for whoever had the best swing, and prepared a rousing, sermonlike speech to kick things off.

That year, maybe 25 people attended, Ringgenberg recalled. He's known in some local circles as the "night mayor" of Minneapolis, a reference to appointed positions in cities including Pittsburgh and Washington, D.C., that encourage a nightlife scene. Minneapolis advocates discussed formalizing a similar position in 2019.

Ringgenberg's informal title suggests he's accustomed to making his own fun. This year he shared the open invitation to the party on the social media site Bluesky, telling people they could direct-message him for the address.

The fourth stump party was held last Friday. About 80 people packed into Ringgenberg's backyard, around a large tree stump on a white tarp. Lights illuminated a handful of axes.

"Here we gather to lay down what burdens us and to sharpen ourselves in preparation for the spring," Ringgenberg said to cheers and shouts from the crowd. "Are you the person who is needed for the dark days ahead? And if not will you let yourself be transformed at the stump?"

This year's stump came courtesy of a guy on Craigslist who lives in Coon Rapids. It was the largest free piece that Ringgenberg and his girlfriend could possibly fit in the back of their car.

Participants took turns hitting the stump, as part of a competition dubbed "Mightiest Swing." The winner is decided by cheers from the audience. There are gloves and goggles for safety, in case wood chips go flying.

"I want it to be catharsis generating," Ringgenberg said. "I think we bottle up a lot of emotions and misery in Minnesota. I want a chance for people to just get that out of their body."

Jess Davis traveled down with friends from Duluth for the occasion. She kept swinging her ax long after the competition ended, intent on doing some damage.

"I love chopping wood," Davis said. "I used to have to chop wood for warmth. I lived in a cabin with a wood-burning stove."

A safe distance from the chopping, there was a bountiful harvest of Hamm's. Baked goods were piled on a table. Cold shots of Malört went around on trays, and boxes of steaming hot large pizzas were passed around. People warmed up by a fire between swings, connecting with friends new and old.

Eileen Healy and her boyfriend were drawn to the spontaneity of stump party when they heard about it at another Bluesky meetup. Making plans with friends these days often feels like it requires scheduling weeks in advance, she said.

Swinging the ax was a little scary, Healy said. Though a Midwesterner, she laughed, she's not of lumberjack descent.

"I kind of like the idea that it takes all of us swinging and doing it to make something happen, to crack the stump in half," Healy said. "In these times, it's nice to remember that even the little things matter."

The size of the stump party has started to test the limits of Ringgenberg's backyard and the courtesy of his neighbors, he said. He's hoping a local brewery might be interested in hosting future installments.

In the end last Friday night, the stump bested the group for the very first time. While it took a beating, the choppers didn't get close to splitting it. The hardy stump may make another appearance at next year's stump party. Either way, the party was a success: It was a reason to be together on a cold winter night.

"It's not about me meeting people and making friends, but making a space where people can come and do that and feel like they have this shared experience," Ringgenberg said. "We have so few of those anymore."