? The Grim Reaper led a parade float, obstacle-course contestants carried coffins and a frozen corpse was the main attraction.

By all accounts, the first Frozen Dead Guy Days festival was a lively affair.

The presence of Bredo Morstoel’s cryogenically preserved body seemed a good enough reason for a two-day festival in this quirky little mining town trying to drum up winter tourism.

“Anything that makes us laugh is a good thing,” said Mayor Jim Miller, popular in part because his campaign manager is a talking parrot named Jose.

Morstoel died in 1989 in Norway. His grandson, Trygve Bauge, had the body frozen and eventually brought it to Nederland, about 35 miles northwest of Denver, for storage. He had hoped that Morstoel could someday be revived or cloned.

Technology, unfortunately, has yet to catch up with Grandpa Bredo. Bauge was deported back to Norway in 1994 after his visa expired.

Since then, Bauge has paid $650 a month to Bo Shaffer to keep Morstoel’s body on dry ice, at 90 degrees below zero. Shaffer admits he doesn’t subscribe to Bauge’s belief that Morstoel can be brought back.

“To me it’s just a piece of meat,” Shaffer said. “I know Bredo’s off doing something else.”

Local officials initially resisted having the body stored nearby, passing an ordinance against it. But it couldn’t be applied retroactively.

Now people have warmed up to the idea.

Anyone who wanted to see Morstoel’s resting place over the weekend had to pay $25 and sign a waiver not to disclose the location of the shed where the corpse has been stored since 1993.

The only proof that Morstoel is actually inside the metal box is a picture of Bauge standing over the body just before the coffin was sealed, five days after Morstoel had died.

“I’ve seen that picture and Bredo doesn’t look real good,” Shaffer said.

The coffin hasn’t been opened since then, and Shaffer said he’s considered the possibility that Bauge, known to be an oddball, is just playing a monumental joke on everyone.

Still, several hundred people turned out for the town’s macabre parade, featuring floats of coffins and a replica of Morstoel’s shed.

In keeping with the frozen theme, there was a polar bear plunge into icy waters and coffin races, with entrants carrying elaborately designed caskets through an obstacle course.

“We’ve always wanted to have a winter festival, and business has been slow,” said Teresa Warren, president-elect of the Nederland Chamber of Commerce.

“I know some people think it’s morbid,” she said, “but we’ve lived with him for eight years.”

Nederland is about 20 miles west of Boulder.