O’Zapft Is—Oktoberfest in Maine: A German’s Take on Tradition, Beer, and Banter

Written By dKay in Maine

On September 20, 2025, two famous words rang out in Munich, marking the start of the 190th Oktoberfest celebration. These two words are “O’zapft is,” which loosely translates to “It’s tapped.” When people hear that I’m from Germany, they often mention the “Oktoberfest.” What they picture is giant beer tents in Munich, oompah bands, pretzels, and an endless supply of beer. It’s the world’s most famous beer festival, drawing millions of visitors every year.

I’ve been there a few times myself—and while it’s certainly impressive and was fun (where else would you have an Australian having a conversation with a traditional Bavarian who doesn’t speak a lick of English, yet both are enjoying their ‘conversation?’), I’ll admit something: I don’t actually enjoy it.

The last times I went, the crowds of drunk people felt overwhelming, and the stench that hung over the festival area was something else. It felt as if it was more about getting wasted than enjoying a drink (or two) with friends. And yes, the smell is something not a lot of magazines or influencers talk about, but it’s there, especially in the evenings. It’s a smell of beer and bodily fluids, and it’s not only contained to the festival area. There are puddles all through the city, and one thing a lot of people learn during the Oktoberfest: There’s a reason why a whole wagon is empty on the underground and overground trains.

For me, it lost its charm in the sheer scale of it all, and I usually took the time off to stay clear of smelly, overcrowded (or empty) trains and to avoid being nauseated (yes, I’m one of those people who feel queasy when others puke). I might have still peeked at the website muenchenkotzt.de (munich pukes), though. Yes, there is a website that captured it in all its g(l)ory; however, it seems as if the images on the website are no longer available.

But of course, that’s just my point of view and millions of others who embrace the Oktoberfest with all its craziness.

A Royal Wedding & a Horse Race—A Brief History of Oktoberfest

The first Oktoberfest wasn’t even meant to be a beer festival. It began in 1810 as a celebration of Crown Prince Ludwig’s marriage to Princess Therese of Saxony-Hildburghausen, which took place on October 12. The celebrations lasted for five days and concluded with a horse race on a meadow outside Munich’s gates, with citizens of Munich having been invited to join. The meadow the festival took place on was christened “Theresens-Wiese” (Therese’s meadow) in honor of the bride. In the 1820s, the name changed to “Theresienwiese,” under which it is known to this day.

After the wedding celebrations, everyone agreed that they wanted more, and the rest is history, as this year’s 190th celebration shows. If you did the math, you noticed that it hasn’t taken place every year since the royal wedding, as events such as the Napoleonic wars (in 1813), a cholera epidemic (in 1854 and 1873), the Prussian-Austrian War (1873), both World Wars (1914-1918 and 1946-1948), financial issues (in 1923), and, most recently the Corona pandemic (2020 and 2021), put the breaks on the celebrations. However, since 2022, the annual celebrations have been back in full swing.  

And here’s the funny part: despite its name, Oktoberfest doesn’t actually take place in October. The festival begins in September and typically lasts for approximately two weeks, concluding on the first Sunday in October. The reason is simple—the weather. Late September in Bavaria tends to be milder, making it more enjoyable for visitors to sit outside, drink, and celebrate.

Over time, Oktoberfest has grown from a local royal wedding party to a global cultural phenomenon, with millions of liters of beer poured and countless pretzels baked every year. But at its core, it’s still about bringing people together—even if these days, the togetherness might sometimes mean sharing a crowded beer hall with tens of thousands of strangers.

And let me tell you, Oktoberfest definitely fosters a sense of togetherness. I’ll never forget my first visit, during which I managed to reach the bathrooms without taking my purse with me, which was kept secure by those I was visiting with, only to learn that it cost 1 Deutsche Mark (yes, it’s been that long ago) to use the bathroom. Thankfully, the lady in front of me noticed my predicament and pressed a 1 DM coin into my hand, saying, “This one’s on me.”

When Oktoberfest Crossed the Atlantic

When Germans emigrated in large numbers (in the mid-1800s especially), they brought more than just language—they brought traditions of beer making, communal festivity, and social gathering. In cities like Milwaukee, the influx of Bavarian immigrants in the 1840s and 50s helped establish brewing businesses, beer gardens, and celebrations of heritage. In Cincinnati, immigrant communities clustered (e.g., Over-the-Rhine), kept their churches, schools, music, food, and eventually established Oktoberfest-style festivals (like Oktoberfest Zinzinnati) that explicitly reference Munich’s Oktoberfest. Even when the festivals themselves came later, the cultural foundation was already deeply embedded.

While it took decades for Oktoberfests to establish, the festivity itself evolved once it landed in America. Here, it became less about royal weddings and horse races, and more about two things: beer and community. And it's not only happening in large cities; smaller towns, too, began to embrace the idea, adding their own local flavors along the way.

And while Munich’s Oktoberfest is bound by centuries of tradition—including which breweries are allowed to serve beer—and reinforced by introducing the “Oide Wiesn” (Old meadow), a nostalgic section introduced in 2010 with historical rides, traditional beer tents, and music, to remind visitors of the festival’s roots, the American versions are far more flexible. Yet, the unifying theme remains the same: gather people, raise a glass, and celebrate.

Oktoberfest in Maine: Same Spirit, Different Rhythm

You don’t have to travel to Munich to get an Oktoberfest fix—Maine has plenty of ways to celebrate that blend the German tradition with local charm. Yet, here in Maine, Oktoberfest celebrations look and feel quite different from Munich’s. One difference is that many of them actually happen in October, not September. That alone flips the tradition on its head, since in Bavaria the festival starts in late September and wraps up by the first Sunday in October.

Another big difference is the length. While Munich’s Oktoberfest lasts more than two weeks, Maine’s versions usually span no more than a weekend—or even just a single day, such as the Rangeley Octoberfest or the Lost Valley’s Oktoberfest Party in Auburn. A few hours of beer, food, music, and games, and that’s it. The only real exception is the Fryeburg Fair, which runs for eight days, but that’s an agricultural fair at heart, not an Oktoberfest, as its other name, the West Oxford Agricultural Society, already makes clear.

Still, the Maine events capture the spirit in their own way: local breweries pour festbiers and Märzens, food trucks offer bratwurst and pretzels (sometimes with a Maine twist), and there’s usually a stein-hoisting contest or costume competition for good measure. Instead of tens of thousands of strangers packed into a beer tent, you’re more likely to find neighbors chatting, muscles twitching over a stein hoisting contest, or families enjoying music together.

From “O’zapft is” to Steinhoisting Competitions: A German Take on Maine’s Oktoberfest

I personally like a local beer garden’s take on the Oktoberfest. During the time of the actual Oktoberfest, they serve Oktoberfest Bier (beer) and provide information regarding the origin of the Oktoberfest. For me, it doesn’t have to be a sprawling two-week festival with centuries of history and millions of visitors like in Munich. I prefer those in Maine, which keep the food and music, and add their own spin through contests and local food—without the parts I could do without, such as overcrowded trains, endless noise, and, yes, the occasional “puke puddle.”

It’s not about how long the party lasts, or whether you’re in a tent with thousands of strangers. It’s about raising a glass, sharing good food, and enjoying a moment of togetherness and banter.

Have you ever celebrated Oktoberfest—whether in Munich, here in Maine, or somewhere else in the world? I’d love to hear your stories. What did you enjoy most, and what made it memorable for you? Share your experiences in the comments!

dKay in Maine
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