Once a week, I travel to distant realms to smite evil. I’m half-orc when I do this. I’m also playing Dungeons & Dragons when I do this. While my character Brad the Bad wields various bladed weapons with ease (and alacrity), my day-to-day life involves far fewer stabby items. I butter toast. I chop onions. I sometimes resist the urge to try to lodge a well-thrown steak knife into my drywall.
So, when I heard that Three Notch’d Brewing Company offers axe-throwing at their Nelson County location, I knew my moment had arrived. The quest crystalized in my mind’s eye: I needed to get my D&D party members, a pack of fellas I’ve been playing with for at least seven years, to join me for an evening hurling blades while drinking beer at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains. But would my party answer the call? They did. This is the story of our adventure.
—Kristie Smeltzer
What
Throwing axes at Three Notch’d Brewing Company’s Nelson County location
Why
Because playing with bladed weapons under safe conditions is so fun.
How it went
All enjoyed themselves with no casualties to report.
We arrived in ones and twos, as adventuring parties are wont to do. Three Notch’d staff members at the check-in stand gave us waivers to sign, which resulted in a lot of laughs as we read them while waiting for a critical mass of our party to arrive and our lanes to be ready. Here’s the waiver’s gist: This could be dangerous, don’t be putzes, and wear closed-toed shoes. If I’m honest, my biggest concern upon reading the waiver was that we wouldn’t, in fact, be able to enjoy their libations whilst slinging axes, but fortunately, beer and blades can coexist at Three Notch’d.
When our lanes were ready, a kindly staff member took us to our barn. It was a single-car-garage-sized structure with a little porch with tables for our refreshments and our two axe-throwing lanes inside. We six had the whole barn to ourselves since we’d rented both lanes. The staff member showed us the two types of axes available for hurling: ones with metal heads and wooden handles and others solely made of metal. The latter were lighter and had the added benefit of a sharp edge in front and a small point on the back, so there was more than one way to get them to stick in the target. We learned their main rule of axe-throwing: Retrieve your axe after every throw. (Apparently, the first weekend the lanes were open, a ridiculous number of wood-handled axes perished because people hit the target with one axe, threw another with it still lodged there, and managed to break the first axe’s handle with the second one’s blade.) Judging by the state of our wooden axe handles, this rule is hard to remember – maybe because of beer.
We ordered drinks and food and got to hurling. The plain wood targets have a variety of designs that can be projected onto them, with different shapes and points associated with them. I stuck with a basic bullseye for this go at it. My friends and I had differing techniques. Some stood at the line where the walled sides of the axe lanes began, while others stood a few paces back. Some added a wrist flick as they threw to get more rotation. Others hurled the axes like they’d been storing up years of rage—oh wait, that was me, and I learned that brute force wasn’t the most successful strategy. When I managed to get the right distance from the target and amount of rotation on the axe, the sound of the blade thunking into the wood felt satisfying on a primal level, deep in the gut.
For $100, you too can hurl blades for 90 minutes with up to three of your closest adventuring buddies. Who knows, maybe the wood targets were made from evil trees who needed a little smiting.
