The first Sasquatch sighting
Escape from the scorching sun
The refreshing respite of the fast-running river
July 24
Sasquatch Gathering, Drayton Valley, Alberta
Relieved to be sitting in one place after three days and nights driving from Toronto to the Sasquatch Gathering in Drayton Valley, Alberta. The blazing afternoon sun that sweat-soaked our tent pitching has given way to a chilly evening. After rinsing three days of traveling in the river, I've traded shorts and sandals for jeans and boots.
We're relaxing after dinner over booze purchased at Salty's Liquor Store in Vegreville, Alberta, where the cashier inquired enthusiastically about the scent she perceived me to be wearing. I found this quite puzzling considering I'd just rolled out of the RV I'd been living in for almost four days. I wondered if there could possibly be any remnant of the custom essential oil blend I may have put on days ago. I did list its ingredients to the keen woman, which she duly wrote down: Amber, Sandalwood, Vetiver, Patchouli. But when I reported the incident to the band, they all said it was my own special blend of pheromones and animal magnetism (a reference to the t-shirt I was wearing). Guess I have a way with the ladies in Vegreville!
July 25
Sasquatch Gathering
Sun singes through dry blue skies, licking up tiny wisps of white which are all that remain of last night's cloud cover that unrolled across the starry display. Music wafts across a faint breeze. Laughter sprinkles the air. Dogs convene and make new friends. Children romp, some naked and camouflaged by river mud.
My day's labour is to choose from moment to moment whether to read, swim, write, eat, drink, nap or wander toward the stage to soak in the energy at the vortex of this small but vibrant festival. The hot weather has made me lazy. I have thought of how good a run would make me feel, but there is a small window between relentless, unforgiving heat and the chilly dark of night. I'll wait until Prince George and the prospect of a shower to rinse the sweat. For now, I'll just give into the rare opportunity for utter slothfulness. I'll let all stress evaporate and relish having no need to live by the clock. My watch is stashed and I follow each impulse as it comes to me.
It was such a relief to unleash ourselves full-throttle on stage tonight after so much enforced stillness. We had the crowd dancing from the get-go. The highlight was the spectacle caused by a large blonde dog called Alastair (Ali) who came on stage in the midst of the shenanigans that always explode during Foxy Lady. Lynn was chasing Caleb across the stage with peeling blasts from the guitar. Ali faced Lynn's back, curious about the dramatic goings-on. I then straddled him and made like a bass-slinging cowgirl, riding hard and keeping the bottom end pumping. Later during the night, Ali found me walking and greeted me heartily as if to say, "Wasn't that cool, man? We really rocked, didn't we?".
No comments:
Post a Comment