‘Silly Fish Parade’ Exalts Springtime, Cardboard, and the Smelt Queen

In the water, these fish run. Outside it, they dance.

It’s May in Duluth, Minnesota: Rolls of tinfoil unfurl onto DIY hats and fish puppets, paraded by dozens of costumed, shiny partygoers. Giant papier-mâché heads float like boats along Lake Superior’s horizon.

The reason for the silvery springtime celebration? Smelt, aka miniature freshwater fish.

A group of people parade under a blue sky, some wearing giant puppet heads. — Participants display their handmade papier-mâché puppets and heads, some of which have been with the troupe since its very first parade on Earth Day in the early 2010s.

Organizers excitedly talk through illustrated skit plans ahead of the event.

A silver baby carriage holds a silver fish head over a doll toy. — A baby smelt-human doll rests in a carriage at the troupe’s headquarters before the big day.

Several light-skinned people stand around a large table and adjust large pieces of cardboard. — Parade volunteers gather at Lafayette Community Center Duluth to create costumes and puppets ahead of the big Run, Smelt, Run! parade.

Magic Smelt Puppet Troupe members and volunteers coordinate a make-your-own-metaphor skit ahead of the parade, replete with a narcissistic king, “royal” guards on stilts, and french fries for the cardboard seagulls.

“If you’ve lived up here for any amount of time, you see these little remnants of this huge boom that the smelt population had in the 1970s,” says Magic Smelt Puppet Troupe co-founder Anton Jimenez-Kloeckl.

At the time, Lake Superior’s parasitic lamprey population boomed, sending trout numbers downward. Local smelt thrived, starting out as an invasive species that’s become a beneficial part of the ecosystem. The population dwindled in the ‘80s, but fisherfolk today still wade into the lake with seines in hand. In the spring, the smelt “run” from tributaries to the lakeshore at night—making them more easily catchable.

“There are still spots where you drive around town where you’ll see signs—you’ll see cardboard signs that say ‘smelt for sale!’” he says. “And what better way than a cardboard theatre troupe to honor the smelt and to make a cardboard parade?”

A medium-skin-toned person donned in silver adornments dances. — Dancers entertain the crowd during a few pit stops along the parade route.

People wearing all white and black suspenders dance on a sidewalk. — Morris dancers, which include John Finkle (second from right) perform the English folk dance to accordion and jingle bell tunes.

People hold up silvery fish flags against a blue sky and lake. — “Every year we go out smelting and wade into the dark of Lake Superior,” says participant John Finkle. “It’s our time of abundance and things are blossoming and just the communal energy is fantastic.”

There’s no shortage of smelt characters at the parade.

A piece of thick white paper is cut into the shape of a fish and reads: smelt template. — This year, the troupe held six parade workshops for neighbors to get creative with their smelty, silvery props.

Two sets of light-skinned hands touch and adjust pieces of brown cardboard on a white table. — Community members work together to create unique, handmade pieces of art for the parade.

The troupe behind Run, Smelt, Run! was founded by Jim Ouray in 2012. The non-motorized parade starts with a cheeky skit by Duluth’s famous Aerial Lift Bridge, follows the also-historic Lakewalk, and lands downtown with a fried smelt dinner and more dancing.

“It’s the best party in Duluth, hands down. We’ve been called Duluth’s Duluthiest event,” says Jimenez-Kloeckl, who calls it a “silly fish parade.”

Throughout are massive puppets and folk dancing. The sky is filled with bubbles and gleaming banners. Smiles are on countless faces, and no excuse to be weird is necessary.

Anyone can join workshops to help plan skits or create costumes beforehand. It’s open to all, in the spirit of a second-line parade where onlookers become participants.

“It’s so fun and it lets people express themselves,” says John Finkle, who has been involved with nearly every parade. “[It’s] super creative and really amps up everybody’s energy for celebrating our little window that is spring on the North Shore.”

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