by Bob Carson

Editor’s Note: The USTA website is pleased to present freelance writer Bob Carson and his popular “Outside the Box” features. This monthly series is a menu of outlandish proposals presented with a wink — but the purpose behind them is serious. The views contained in this column are that of the author alone, and do not necessarily represent the opinions or views of the United States Trotting Association.

“Strange Rivers” — lyrics by John Steward, performed by Joan Baez

There are voices in the mirror, faces at the door
That open on the rivers we’ve never seen before
Are there choices for the sparrow, or does he only fly
High above the rivers that are pulling you and I.

Oh, there are strange rivers, rivers that we cannot see
There are strange rivers who know our destiny.

Bob Carson

You know how one strange thing leads to another? Something weird happens, your antenna goes up and other things happen.

A couple of years ago, we owned a young trotting mare that was not doing much on the racing scene. We decided to sell her. For the first time, we used the internet for marketing purposes; we posted her online and immediately received feedback and closed a deal. At this point, I learned something odd; the buyer was from Norway. To be honest, I did not even realize harness racing had a pulse in Norway but she was off to her new home in the land of fjords, Vikings and the Midnight Sun.”

Norway was on my mind at the time because we were watching a Netflix series named “Lilyhammer.” The show was set in Norway and starred Little Stevie Van Zandt from the E Street Band as a mobster in witness protection. I got bit by the Norwegian bug, dug beneath the permafrost and found more cool stuff about Norway (which means “path to the north”).

Norway is one of the wealthiest countries in the world; perhaps we should have asked more for our trotting filly. You have to love a country where the unofficial national food dish is a frozen pizza with the brand name Grandiosa. They have the longest road tunnel in the world at 15 miles and they have the world’s deepest underwater tunnel at 287 meters. If you are caught driving under the influence, you automatically go to jail for 30 days and can be fined up to 10 percent of your annual income. If you own a TV, you must pay $300 per year. They invented the cheese slicer and about as many Norwegian descendants live in the United States as currently live in Norway.

Autumn Ryan graphic

Back to Norwegian racing, my handicapping skills are about the same as your basic 6 year old. I can drain my internet horse wagering account quicker than dog’s teeth can drain an inflatable swimming pool. My forte is hunch wagering. Therefore, when I saw a pair of Norwegian bred horses entered in the recent million dollar Yonkers International Trot, I leaped on my Norwegian bandwagon.

Norway came through.

Papagayo E, driven by Ulf Ohlsson, beat them all and paraded in front of a large contingent of happy Norwegian fans. I cashed my first winning ticket since Lillehammer hosted the Winter Olympics. This pretty much sealed my blossoming love affair with Norway. A visit is in the wind.

Still scratching my head on how this country became involved in harness racing, I found a clue. While it is probably not wise to stereotype a nation, the Norwegians seem to be a stoic, thrifty, friendly, quirky, patient group of people who do not mind going counter culture. The previous sentence could easily be applied to harness racing enthusiasts.

Even Norwegian television programming is laconic and quirky; they are famous for a genre called Slow TV. Unthinkable in our hustle bustle world, Norway offers real time viewing, not scripted for tension or conflict, barely edited, and not concerned with length — the opposite of American content.

For example, “Bergensbanen: Minutt for Minutt” was a train journey from Bergen to Oslo, seven hours of basically looking out a train window in real time. Or a 12-hour program about firewood, culminating in “National Firewood Night” where viewers watched a fireplace. Norwegians love this stuff; about half the population tuned in for a boat journey. These are harness people!

While my research adventures into this land of tunnels, glaciers and unlimited coastline are probably of minimal interest, my next Norwegian reference should be of great interest, especially if you buy or sell harness race horses.

My partner and I took a hiatus from the racing wars and raised a baby to send to market (a complex and somewhat esoteric saga still in progress that will be reported on at a later date).

When we originally purchased the yearling filly that would eventually become our broodmare, listed in the catalogue under her mother’s production was a colt. All it read next to the name of the offspring was the word “Exported.” To whom or for how much was not listed, so this sibling disappeared into a black hole. We forgot about it until last month.

When the catalogue listing with our yearling came out, under the dam production the exported horse was completely omitted. As far as buyers and sellers were concerned, this horse never existed. Worse yet, since the exported horse was not noted, the assumption was that the horse was a dud and did not “make it.”

Puzzled, I did some rudimentary digging using the Internet. Much to my surprise, this “lost” yearling did not fall into a black hole. The horse did indeed make it to the races in — are you ready — Norway. Not only did this lost sibling race (31-4-4-2), money was on the dance card.

This is important information. Had we known about this phantom sibling as buyers, we may have spent more. As sellers, our customers may have spent more. Perhaps the big buyers are privy to this offshore information, but small fry cannot research exotic lands and decipher foreign languages and convert the metric system for thousands of sales prospects.

Obviously, this international data was once difficult to compile and archive. In 1947 or 1967 or even 1987, following the fate of harness horses in other countries was a daunting task. In 2015 it should not be difficult. After all, this troglodyte managed to ferret out this horse that crossed the pond. The suggestion is to make these foreign affairs available to the American marketplace (and the computer runs both ways).

Sad to report, the sibling of the missing colt in our family that immigrated to Norway was not related to the magnificent Papagayo E — but our horse that moved into the foreign back hole could have been — and inquiring minds need to know.

Hah ehn gooh dahg! (Have a good day!)