God's Own Electric Circus

Friday we left High Street at 10:00 with the Neon fully loaded and raring to go. After several stops we finally left for Borden at 11 and arrived in NB around 12:30. The Neon never left the passing lane on the way to Moncton averaging 150 kms/hr, the time we saved however was stolen by MS Mappoint's crappy directions to Magnetic Hill Zoo.

We arrived at the zoo around 2, just in time to see the big cats get fed. The lions and tigers and jaguars and lynxes were all gorgeous, however their enclosures were small and unsuited to animals with such explosive power. As for the rest of the animals I'll let the pictures speak for them. After about 2 hours of touring the exhibits Jane had to drag me away so we could begin our 3 hour journey to Antigonish.

We stopped in Truro for liquor and groceries figuring they would have a better selection than available in Antigonish. I picked up a quart of vodka and a Colt 45, Jane got herself 4 revs and 4 other fruity coolers.

Before we were able to arrive at the festival we had to pass through a RCMP checkpoint. As soon as I seen the flashing lights the fear crept back into my stomach. Unfortunately, being of the particularly lazy sort my license had remained unrenewed since 2003... The less than friendly officer didn't take kindly to this, and had us pull in while he ran our information. While we were waiting, some poor hippy had part of his stash confiscated, and several others were also receiving tickets.

After this incidence we continued down the dusty gravel road to where we stopped to receive our braceletts and then parked on the grassy hill. For anyone unfamiliar with the landscape and terrain in Antigonish it's very hilly, the entire festival was located on the 30 degree embankment of one such hill. The ground was still covered in small twigs and other debris from where they had hastily cleared the grounds. Also, the previous week of rain had rendered the ground as soft as playdough, and in some places mucky enough to suck the knee highs of a hooker. The organizers had attempted to sop up some sogginess with straw, but for the most part it was still hazardous terrain. We unpacked, and in relative dark (it being 8:30 by this time) we strapped ourselves with gear and started the trek a few hundred feet up this hill. I chose an easily accessible and identifiable camp spot halfway up the hill, and about 100 feet from the main stage. We were bathed in the glow of two thousand watt floodlights run on generators, and the ground shook and trembled with every heavy bass beat.

To take the edge off of our trip, I cracked open the 45 and rolled a blueberry spliff for good measure. This brought Jane and I back into a more festive mood, and we went about exploring. We found Matt hocking stoner wares from a large white tent, he presented Jane with one of Gill's walkie talkies, and Jane frantically attempted to contact her bosom buddy. Later that night, Matt and I pimped ourselves out with glow bracelets and magical pixie dust and waded into the center of the raving crowd. The sound system was awesome, the DJs were excellent and the laser show was super cool radical.

I crawled into bed at 3 and attempted to sleep through the rest of the DJs as they played around the clock. The music never stopped all weekend, and for most of the time there were two stages simultaneously playing two different styles of music, plus a drum tent where all sorts of crazies were going tribal. Jane woke me around 8, and we collected Gill from her morning repose and headed into town for some food. We went to some restaurant, with a name I was never really able to read due to ambiguous lettering. It was a beautiful morning so I suggested we eat on the screened patio. This turned out to be a mistake as the waitress seemed to forget about us for the majority of our meal. Without going into too great of detail the service sucked, and the food was mediocre, though my eggs benedict with hollandaise sauce still definitely hit the spot.

Sadly I had forgotten to bring my concert shoes, and had instead brought my best dress sneakers (same ones I wore to Dwaine’s wedding :) They are still recovering, and will never regain their original luster. We attempted at that time to buy me some sandals, but at this time of year it's impossible to find a size 13 sandal, so the search was for naught.

Arriving back at the festival grounds we seen a constant stream of bathing suit clad hippies travelling to and from the fresh water stream and falls that were located a 10 minute walk from the hill. Later that afternoon, Jane and I drove down and visited these falls. I had a great time slipping about on slippery smooth stones as I frolicked throughout the three tier falls. The water was icy cold and very refreshing as the degrees rose to 28. The whole area was teaming with bathers, as this was the only source of hygiene. The camp grounds had been thrown together with no regard for showering or personal cleanliness, the port-a-potties were certainly not inviting.

In comparison to Shoreline: Tenting was first come first served, with camping spots ranging from the parking lot to the very fringes of the grounds and everywhere in between. As with Shoreline there were no fires allowed. Unlike Shoreline there were fewer trash receptacles per capita, and the grounds were hardly as groomed. The two stages were a great combination, ensuring a constant flow of music. There were many different vendor tents offering a full gamut of wares and eats. The prices at all these establishments were fair. Unfortunately the slope of the hill and random placement of tents didn’t' allow for full out games of Frisbee or football.

One game that was played was Hippy Fishing. This was done by tying a lure (glow stick) to the line and attaching this to a rod and reel. In the dark, drunken hippies would attempt to grab this attractive bait only to have it pulled away at the last second. This led to many chases, mostly through the worst of the muck pits. In one case a particularly inebriated fellow followed the lure all the way back to the fisher and up until it was held directly in his face, before exclaiming, "ahh man... you really got me!"

Saturday night was filled with alcohol, cannibinols, hallucinogens and the perfect mix of Surprise Me Mr Davis, The Wassabi Collective and some elfkin with dreds throwing down fat rave beats. I was up most of the night just soaking in the atmosphere as the DJs did incredibly distorting things with the sound system.

In the morning the girls had decided they had enough of smelling stinky, and camping. They made the decision to pack up camp around 9, and shortly after we left Evolve. I always hate leaving a festival, especially when you have just acclimatized yourself to the drunken merry culture of dance and free loving party people. These festivals always reaffirm within me the love and knowledge that whoever you are before you come to the festival, once you're here you live in a tent, you're dirty and drunk most of the time and somehow people can just get along. All it takes is a constant beat, a lighthearted attitude
and enough drugs to decimate a large herd of elephants.

Once the car had been fully packed, we made one last stop at the stream where I frolicked for another hour and soothed my soul in the frigid water basins carved from the constant tumbling of water. Refreshed, we headed home having officially capped off the summer with one last triumphant salute to the human spirit.
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