I feel like I’m poking my head into a big empty auditorium with all the lights dimmed, accompanied by the sensation of doom that the janitor is going to catch me sneaking around. I always intended this blog to be updated at least once a week with my latest exploits waiting for you to visually devour them. It has turned into a mini series of novels that goes on hiatus for unexplained amounts of time only to return to three issues being released at once. My goal of not being at home for more than three weeks at a time this summer has been a major success. Today I am on my first four weeks of consecutive home time since the end of April. I’ve let my hair grow, my mind settle, and my feelings come out of the latest of post adventure traumtic blues. I’m finally ready to divulge all my travel anecdotes to you without smashing my keyboard in a nostalgic stupor.
My favourite long weekend of the year, every year, is the weekend of Sasquatch. I’ve been loving music festivals since I was a little meteorite, around the age of fifteen. I like to think thats when my real life started. Fifteen. Everything before that has been implanted memories. Speaking of crazy, try driving ten hours into the desert of Washington state with your sister and two of our friends, two other cars in tow most of the way and twelve cars in total meeting at a horse monument all organizing to get camping spots together. It happened. I like to assume it was because we had a girl scout in our presence. She actually made this journey happen complete with laughing fits, tetris packing and olympic record for most tents sent up at dusk by herself in an hour.
Ever heard of how Mt. Shasta, Ayers Rock, and the Bermuda Triangle all have crazy vortexes of energy coming out of them? The same sort of thing happens at Sasquatch. The Gorge is filled with a heightened level of consciousness and you have no choice but to ride the wave of natural euphoria. I said natural! Being there is like being in another dimension, time is tracked by when your next favourite band plays and nothing else. Showering is something you do in a bucket and sleeping in a tent refugee camp style is a pleasure. At least for me that is how i experienced it, anybody else feel like they could permanently live in a tent if they got to dance and cry all day to a conveyor belt of talent? The first band I saw of the festival was of Monsters and Men, you know the babes from Iceland? I missed a bit of their set due to unforeseen human traffic, but when I finally got down there the first words i heard them sing were ‘we are so far from home and alone but so happy’. I swear to your God this place is magic. Perfect foreshadowing or what?!
That’s STRFKR up there. I made the mistake of showing up right on time; the dance tent was packed to no end. I was fortunate enough however to have a perfect view of all the naked blow up dolls they released into the crowd. I was a bit bummed I didn’t get to dance with all the people in the main crowd for them as they were one of my most anticipated bands of the festival, but guess what? Magic came to the rescue the next day. It was early on, there weren’t any bands I was super stoked on seeing for about an hour so I was wandering around like a wanderer when I heard something surprisingly familiar. I walk over to the stage that I Break Horses is meant to be playing at, they aren’t there, the crowd is thin, and STRFKR start playing their second set of the festival. They were the emergency back up band! Don’t worry about IBH, I saw them in Portugal two weeks later in the soaking rain but thats a completely unrelated story. Not a single bad thing happened to me at Sasquatch, only surprises upon magic encounter surprises. Guess who else showed up? Beechers Cheese. I mention them every time I go down to Seattle. My last meal on death row would be Beechers Cheese mac’n’cheese. My last memory before I die is going to be Sasquatch 2012.