On one hand, it's always sad to leave a happy place. On the other, showers are nice. As are real, flushing toilets.
These were my thoughts on the car ride home. Those thoughts, and "I can't believe I'm bringing home a bookshelf!"
Folk Fest was amazing! Here's what happened:
Wednesday Night - My old friend picked me up. She is the aunt of an old friend of mine. It was great to catch up though it made me a little sad to think about how much time has passed. How did life get so busy?! Wednesday night I slept on her sofa bed and on...
Thursday - My friend, her uncle, and I drove to Folk Fest. I got out of the car first to go claim an area. Although it Fest hadn't officially started, Old Pool Farm was packed! But I found a pretty decent area and setup the tents with some help from Steve, an old fest friend. Later that day, there was a very heavy rain accompanied by very strong winds. While other tents were uprooted, mine stayed strong. It gave me quite the sense of accomplishment. As it grew dark, my friend and I roamed the campgrounds. There was lots of crazy creativity and even more good music. Eventually, my boyfriend joined us.
Friday - My boyfriend and I got up early because we had to do our volunteer shift. We went to the volunteer tent and looked for the two other members of our crew. They ended up getting there a few hours later because parking was a mess at Fest this year. I became very acquainted to this parking problem as my first volunteer shift was telling people they couldn't park in the lot when another volunteer at the driveway before mine told them they could park there. At this shift, my boyfriend and I were called all kinds of mean names. There was lots of screaming. It was very hot. The breakfast was not vegan. And when I got back (early, because I whined. I kind of regret it.), I wanted to cry. Things got better though. After the shift, my two other friends joined us and we got to eat a volunteer dinner.
That night, my boyfriend and I walked around the campgrounds, and for the first time, after months and months of daydreaming about, I got to play around a campfire. It was exciting. People enjoyed it. And the moment was pretty unforgettable.
Saturday - We had to volunteer again. This shift was much easier. My boyfriend and I sat under the shade checking for wristbands. With us sat Rodney, an older gentleman who was a big fan of any and all ladies. Rodney and the security guard talked to us about some of the fliers hanging around our area. The most eye-catching one being, the topless foot race. They detailed the 5-year history of the race. Legend has it, the race started as a joke and the first race, much to everyone's disappointment, didn't have any women. The following year, there was one lady. In the race's previous and fifth year, the race built itself up to five women but according the gentlemen telling the story, four of the women shouldn't have ran due to gravity's unkindness. Hey, I'm not supporting/agreeing with any of this! I'm just retelling the story.
Also during this shift, our other two friends were at the location we had on Friday. One of these friend had the walkie-talkie and he kept us amused with his call-ins.
10:00am - "Radio 48, this is Jason at the heavy camping gate and there is some heavy camping going on."
11:00am - "Radio 48, this is Jason at heavy camping. I'm going to eat a soft pretzel a stranger gave me. I hope there aren't any drugs in it."
12:00pm - "Radio 48, this is Jason at heavy camping and we are killing this mother!"
1:00pm - "Radio 48, this is Jason at heavy camping. We saw a bicycle."
Unfortunately, at this shift, Jason got terribly sunburn and this just added to his discomfort from some very aggressive poison ivy on his legs. As we ate our volunteer dinner, I asked what he wanted to do next hoping it was something fun that would take his mind of the burning and the itching.
"I'm going to a topless foot race." He answered with certainty.
Because my boyfriend and I had just been filled in on the race's past, we chuckled to each other and asked, "Do we tell him?" We didn't.
As it turns out, the race was the best yet. Though I found the presence and excitement of some young boys pretty weird and disturbing.
That night, we wandered some more. I ended up playing at The Campfire with a microphone! I played Creep by Radiohead. I did ok.
Sunday - Today, none of us had to work! At all! Jason went back to society for a few hours. So, the three of us went to the creek and swam around. It was beautiful there and although the main stage was far away, we could still hear Celtic music echoing. As we swam, a group of guys played a drinking game consisting of drinking sips from their beers and yip-ing with each sip. So in addition to the music, there was a constant,
"Yip!" "Yip!"
"Yip!" Yip!" "Yip!""Yip!"
going on. It sounds annoying, but I kinda liked it.
Also, while Jason was gone, we all thought up Hippie names for each other. Our names were Shish Kabob, Huckleberry, Bamboo, and Seafoam (that was Jason's).
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| What Festers do in the rain! |
During my shift, there was a mountain of a man driving a huge tractor. This man has the tannest man I have ever seen. He had wild, grey hair and a long, white beard though it was tinted brown from dusty dirt. He drove on his giant tractor around the grounds projecting an air of majesticity. As he passed, everyone turned to watch him. So I couldn't help but be surprised and flattered when he turned his head from his statuesque position to look at me. Talking to himself more than to me, he said flatly, "Beautiful." He drove on shaking his head once as though it pained him and my boyfriend just kept shaking his head. Later, I would learn that "The Guy on the Tractor" is a Folk Fest Legend who goes by the name "Chickie".
One of the last things that happened at Fest was a woman driving down the driveway asked if I would take her wicker bookshelf because she didn't have room for it. I said sure. So she took the bookshelf out of the back of her short pickup truck. In the back of the truck there were two upright pianos facing each other. There was a young girl between them playing one. The woman thanked me in advance for taking good care of it. And now the bookshelf is more or less right in front of me, covered in paper mache from old books and viola music. I paper mached it because the paint was chipping off the wicker like crazy and covering fixed the problem while making a unique and personal piece of furniture.
When we got back from our shift, nearly everyone was gone. We packed up our things, the tent, and then my wicker bookshelf, and drove home.
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| See you next year. |
