God's Own Electric Circus

Seventy-five dollars in cash for a ticket, a whole box of food stuffs [thanks Janie!], a quart of orange flavored vodka, and an unbridled urge to party.

I left with Gill for Rollo Bay at three on Friday afternoon. After a long haul up route two we made landfall around four. There were three rows of cars, and two rows of tents… we set up camp in the middle of the second row. There wasn’t much to do after we had arranged ourselves since the music hadn’t started yet. Half the field was being quickly overtaken with frisbees, footballs and footbags. The sun was bright and radiant so I strategically placed my blanket down to relax and save a spot for Robert’s eventual arrival. Matt and Coranna were first upon the scene, and I flagged them down. It would be another hour before Rob finally arrived, and the party could really start.

Rob’s tent got real smokey, right quick. Tenting is some sort of crazy fun, especially when you’re in the middle of a tent city and everyone is chillen. The festival had a great atmosphere, everyone was upbeat and friendly. Perfect party environment. We emerged from our tent to the sounds of GTB and Metric. To my recollection this was my first time hearing these acts, and I was enthralled.

Gill’s tent was a two seater… as in two people may be able to sit upright in it. There was no chance that I’d have been able to squeeze my gangly self in that night. It was much the same deal with Rob’s tent, and despite offers from other campers I attempted to recharge myself in the backseat of Gill’s sedan. This was a challenge that my knees didn’t appreciate.

Waking in the morning I made good use of the more than adequate washing facilities. Somehow, I managed to haul Matt, Rob and Corrana away from their wake and bake, towards some hot breakfast courtesy of the Blue Fin’s culinary experts. I held off drinking liquor for the rest of the morning, and well into the afternoon. However, most of my fellow campers decided to combat their hangovers with more good liquor loving. Saturday afternoon was filled with lounging on the hill, exploring the backwoods and long range group frisbee action in the surf.

Later that evening, drinking resumed with several half-and-half vodka mixes in my Resolve mug. Somehow I don’t think that mug will ever taste the same… Just when I thought I was drunk, I came upon Janelle attempting to twirl a baton between two sticks. Her finishing move was a spectacular attempt to drop into a push up supporting herself between these sticks. That wasn’t the first time poor Janelle would introduce herself to the grass… After several attempts to run backwards, and chase small wily dogs, Matt carefully returned Janelle to her tent, where we made sure she was securely wrapped in her sleeping bag.

Freed from her babysitting duties, Nancy joined Matt, Rob and I for an awesome rock-out to Buck 65. After that show we headed to the woods to enjoy the serene quality of nature. There was some talk about spending the night under the stars, but those thoughts were dashed by the onset of scattered showers. As it was well passed her bedtime, Nancy left us as we traveled towards Skratch Bastid’s indoor jam. Later Rob would also fall from the ranks, leaving only the brave (and wasted) Matt and me to hip hop until the break of dawn. I had downed the rest of my quart throughout the night, cut liberally with whiskey and some random offerings of mix. And yet somehow I never felt even slightly queasy throughout that night.

Around four AM I humbly accepted Janelle and Nancy’s offer to stay in their luxurious (and spacious) tent. In the morning I awoke well before the girls, feeling damp and dirty. The sky was still cast-over and everything was wet. Gill was awake when I got to her tent. She recounted her brutal awakening to the “drunk song.” It seems wherever Gill goes strange folk follow, whether they be drunken Aussie street performers in full pirate gear, or drunken fishermen wrapped in cannabis flags…

Sunday morning, after dragging Rob from his repose we once more headed to the Blue Fin for another hearty breakfast. Apparently Rob sat in one of the local patron’s favorite seats, the old lady stirred up some trouble, but Rob remained stalwart [stoned].

Tents were coming down all around us when we returned. The piles of liquor bottles were overflowing from every garbage receptacle. It was kind of sad to see our tent city being dismantled, all good things must come to and end I guess… Especially considering most people would not have survived another night. We did take special care however in marking our camping spot with a concentrated scatter of pistachio shells. Next year we'll be able to find our same spot by simply looking for all the pistachio trees...

While I have been to several multi-day music festivals in my past, this year’s Shoreline was by far my favourite adventure. The venue was beautiful and well maintained, the event was well organized and security kept out most unregistered babies. Friends and fellow partiers were awesome. I have found a new love for maritime music and the people who come together to share it.

Shoreline, I’ll be back and better prepared next year!

[This post will be edited throughout Monday including some great pictures from Nancy and Dan Cantin] 0 comments