I went out to Salt Lake City, Utah, where Nick's father recently moved to. He got this amazing house on the side of a mountain with a glorious view of the city below. Pretty much all of the house that faces the valley is made of glass in fact. There's also a hot tub and each bathroom is equipped with a jacuzzi. A great place for a little hiking and business retreat with the Winter family and George!
We spent a good portion of our stay climbing up the enormous mountains surrounding the city. These mountains are intense, at least compared to what I'm used to; they're much higher above sea level and steeper than the Appalachians I grew up with. Mount Olympus was particularly rough. It was a four mile hike that climbed from 5000 to 9000 feet. I got most of the way up, to the point where we could see over into the next valley, but I skipped out on the final scramble up an almost sheer rock face, feeling thoroughly exhausted and needing to husband some energy just to get down the rocky and slippery path. Even so, I got some great pictures, particularly of the curtain of rain that was at that moment pouring down onto the other side of the city.
See them pics
I discovered though that I do not in fact want to use RAW photos. On a lark I switched my camera to save all pictures in RAW format without realizing how much longer it would take me to process the photos. Back to JPEG I go.
Besides hiking the mountains, swimming in the pool, and eating tremendous food provided by our hosts, we also got in a few good games of Dominion, playing online. If anyone wants to join in a game sometime let me know!
http://dominion.isotropic.org/
And finally, for about the last month I've been steeped in the western/fantasy epic series The Dark Tower by Stephen King. I have only one half of a book left to go and I'm really looking forward to seeing whether or not the plucky heroes can save all the universes from destruction. I recommend checking it out; listening to it via my Kindle's electronic voice while driving a two day car trip really made the time fly by, let me tell you.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Kerrville Folk Festival
About a week after I arrived in Austin I was brought along to the Kerrville Folk Festival for its final three days. It's about two hours drive away, and is basically a two and half week long jam session on a ranch. Thousands of people, many from Austin, go there with tents, RVS, and other more creative forms of shelter and camp out around the main performance area, setting up their own common areas where people go to hang out and share music, food and beer with each other.
There were five of us, only one of whom had been there before, and this veteran assured us that we wouldn't have to worry about room and board as volunteers. And he was right. We got there at the last moment and signed up on the spot as peacekeepers. For volunteering not only did we not have to pay to be there, but we also got two free meals a day, so that essentially we didn't have to pay for anything if we didn't want to. And I got a particularly good job: roving. I spent four hours a day wandering around among the camps, wearing a radio and drinking lots of water, and then regularly breaking to just sitting down and talk with people
Everyone has to drink a lot of water. These guys were indispensable.
While I was wandering around on the job I explored the maze of camps and tents. There were several people who brought teepees, and a good number of buses. One camp was simply four buses that were parked in a square. Off the dirt roads, the camp areas were labyrinths of tents and overhanging canvases with all sorts of cooking and general living equipment sitting around. Lots of coolers, lanterns and rugs, and various ornaments and decorations, even some couches and mattresses just sitting on the grass. All the big camps had names; some of the names were nostalgic, most were silly. The Halfway House, Mix'd Nuts, Camp Stupid, Camp Estrogen + Ed, Camp Ducttape, Shutup and Camp, Camp Kerrfuffle, Camp Fork in the Road. On one truck sat an appropriate sign: "In camp we dust." And to cool off, one of the camps had a slip and slide with an inflatable mattress on one end, and a kiddie pool on the other. I watched several people try unsuccessfully to surf the mattress into the pool.
It was hot and dusty during the day, but once the sun went down it was pleasantly cool. The wind went from hot to slightly chilly and the tempurature dropped to a very comfortable level. We had originally thought we'd just be sleeping on top of our sleeping bags, but it turned out to be cool enough to warrent sleeping inside them those nights. We didn't bother with sleeping in our small tent though. The five of us just slept under the stars, which were plentiful out there well away from San Antonio and Austin.
Resting up for another music filled day.
I've only been to one other folk festival: the Old Songs Festival which takes place in upstate New York. I went there as a kid with my parents and sister many summers when I was little. It struck me how different these festivals are. In Old Songs, there are a wide variety of performers, not just musicians but also jugglers and magicians, and there are many workshops for kids and adults to attend, doing crafts and alike. But that was all official, scheduled stuff. Though my parents tell me there was camping, we never really went to that part of the festival. But in Kerrville, camping is actually the main event, the real reason for being there for most people. There is a large stage where various bands perform every night, surrounded by shops and stores selling artwork and food and cowboy hats, but the camping areas are where people spend the most time. Some people never even go to the main show; they prefer instead to just stay in the camps and play music among themselves, and just hanging out. Once the main show is over around eleven or midnight every night, the crowd goes to the camp and the real nightly party starts, with people playing music in the roads and in the camps for several more hours late into the night until everyone collapses with exhaustion.
The people there are proud of what they do, too. "We talk shit about Texas all the time but we here do it better than anywhere else" one performer told me while he was strumming on his guitar during the late night sessions. Austin and the Kerrville folk festival have a lot of good musicians, and they love their music scene. Kerrville's a great place to get a taste of it, meeting a lot of the people who make it happen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)