The Olympics for Chickens Comes to Canterbury

Can a chicken climb stairs? Do a high jump? Achieve total spherical excellence?

Chickenstock 2026 provided an official verdict: yes, they can (mostly.)

Not quite Woodstock, and with far too much personality for regular chicken stock, Chickenstock 2026 is Canterbury’s “premier poultry athletics event”, delivering the kind of passionate crowd usually reserved for international sporting finals.

Organised by Mark Chirnside, barista by day, musician by night, and curator of elite chicken athletics on select weekends, the event on May 23rd was a fundraiser for the Climate Action Campus in Christchurch; and betting on the chickens was not only permitted, but encouraged.

“I love the spirit of competition, and this idea of chicken athletics, the Olympics for chickens, just had me thinking: what can a chicken really do?” Chirnside said.

The answer, it turns out, is much more than you might expect, feats usually achieved while ignoring instructions completely.

Princess the chicken makes her way through the maze, coaxed by a doting Willem Freed. Bribery is both permitted and encouraged.

Families packed in to witness chickens navigate mazes, leap tiny hurdles, pull trays of eggs, and occasionally ignore the tenuous premise of organised competition altogether.

Organisers had warned spectators there was “a non-zero chance” the birds would simply not participate in the tasks laid in front of them.

“We had to put the disclaimer in,” Chirnside laughed. “There’s a non-zero chance the chickens won’t cooperate.”

With 17 entrants, including one chicken who looked suspiciously like a magpie, Chirnside was delighted with the turnout.

“I did have 20 backup chickens in case people didn't enter. It would have been more like a WWE wrestling stage thing, but it's so nice that we have real competitors,” he laughed.

“It was just really important to me that the event was fun, organised, and that people could come along, laugh, take photos and enjoy a good fair competition with the chickens.”

Among the standout events was the egg pull, a feat of strength in which chickens attempted to drag a tray loaded with eggs across the arena.

Make way for Chook Norris. Skilfully directed by Harvey Evans (left), and Eloy Alday-McClelland, she leads the way at the official chicken egg pull.

“My favourite event is the egg pull,” Chirnside said. “We’ve basically got a chicken harness attached to a Tonka truck loaded with a dozen eggs to see which chicken can pull the eggs the furthest.”

Then came the high jump, where chickens attempted increasingly ambitious leaps until one competitor emerged victorious, bewildered, or both.

Chicken dressage was mostly an exercise in patience; chickens are not quite so elegant as horses as it turns out, while the stair climb quickly became one of the marquee events of the day, combining a ten-metre sprint, a staircase challenge, and another sprint to the finish line.

Meet Birdie, technically a magpie, blind in one eye, and still awaiting confirmation as to whether she qualified as “a regulation chicken”.

But no competition captured the public imagination quite like the Roundest Chicken category.

Using a target board, and mathematical modelling suggested by one of Chirnside’s friends, a physics lecturer in Perth, organisers attempted to determine true spherical excellence.

“We can calculate mathematically which chicken is the roundest and most spherical,” Chirnside explained before the event.

“But every chicken also has to be inspected to make sure it’s healthy, you can’t just stuff it full of food.”

Buddha ultimately claimed the coveted title, despite weighing less than a kilogram. She’s just 600 grams, and firmly shaped like a feathered soccer ball.

Best in Show honours went to Mazie, whose true athletic prowess clearly impressed judges, and Hei Hei, who came with her own personal cheer squad, was declared the people's choice. Possibly due to a disproportionate number of loyalists in attendance.

The official cheer squad for Hei Hei! From left, Zac and Ben Zmijewski, Marion Chef, Tara Forstner, Arnaud Heid, and Caroline Halliwell. "Hey hey hey, it's Hei Hei!"

The official weigh-in ahead of the competition had already hinted at the personalities involved.

Hei Hei immediately abandoned the podium “with the energy of a celebrity refusing media interviews”, Chirnside laughed, while Sunnyside Up openly disputed the judging process by refusing to sit in the middle of the scale.

Tiny lived up to none of the expectations attached to the name, at an enormous 2.35 kilograms, and Princess displayed royal composure.

One of the day’s greatest underdog stories belonged to Birdie, technically a magpie, blind in one eye, and still awaiting confirmation as to whether she qualified as “a regulation chicken”. Appeal pending.

She was not the only un-regulation bird in attendance, and the Christchurch Poultry Club were also in attendance, bringing along show birds for the event.

A cockatoo named Bernie, a goose referred to almost exclusively as “bad goose!”, and even a willing turkey were part of the crowd and keen for the loving attention handed by families and their children.

Bernie the Cockatoo, with spectator Kate McInnes-Hemsley. She came to watch the chickens, but she might have stayed just for Bernie.

Food, coffee and snacks from The Crafted Coffee Company kept crowds fueled throughout the day, while spectators passionately cheered for birds attempting highly questionable athletic feats with absolute sincerity.

For Chirnside, the event also aimed to connect urban audiences with rural life in a joyful and accessible way.

“My background is music and performing,” he said. “I’ve discovered there’s always an opportunity for niche culture, whether it’s classical music or chickens, to offer something to people outside those communities.”

“I think I’ve got something to offer the poultry and agricultural community by translating it into something that brings together school kids, families, hospitality people, and the poultry community itself,” he said.

“Chickens are part of our world. People have pet chickens, people eat chickens, they deserve as much respect as they deserve, none less.”

And in the end, that was the magic of Chickenstock: wholehearted enthusiasm for tiny feathered athletes doing their unpredictable best.