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- Denny's #6365
- South Burlington, Vermont
- 16 August 2004
- 1:15pm EDT
- 730 Shelburne Road
- (802) 863-4000
|
- Attendees: P7A77, Lindee
- Wait-person(s): Laurie
- What we ate: P7A77: Bagel, Coke; Linee: Bagel, Fruit, Coffee
- As I live a spartan lifestyle with few expenses, I like to treat myself from time to time. I figured, hey, I'm going to the last Phish shows, I'll be driving through lovely countryside, and I'll likely be stuck in traffic on a mountain for twenty hours. I'm getting a goddamn convertible. Best. Decision. Ever.
- After a stop at Target for last-minute supplies, we spent a bright sunny day tearing through the back roads of New Jersey and New York. Nice twisty rolling two-lane country highways, wind in our hair, in a vehicle that performs mildly better than my old Geo Metro. No photos from this part of the trip because I was too busy challenging the sound barrier to think about that sort of thing. Made it to Vermont by nightfall, started seeing other folks with the same destination, and then hit The Line. We were thirty miles from the venue before midnight, and twenty-nine miles away after sunrise. But that's okay because we got to nap under the stars, with occasional interruptions like one guy humping our tailpipe because he was out of whisky. It made sense to him, so we didn't question it.
- We expected traffic, but at the rate things were going, we'd have made it to the festival about ten days after it was over. Obviously something was up. As the story goes, there was an unusually high level of rain the previous few days and it didn't mix so well with the fresh sod laid down for the campers. Torrential downpouor plus fields of loose dirt equals assloads of mud. Waist-deep. Entire vehicles went missing. We listened to the festival radio station for updates and instructions, and were eventually delivered the worst news possible: they were turning cars away. People who had been planning for months, had traveled for thousands of miles, aching for their last chance to see their favorite music were being told, too bad so sad bye bye now. A wave of shock fell over all of us, and a lot of people just upped and drove off in a huff. We had been queued up in one lane to allow non-festival traffic to pass, but now everyone was driving everywhere, nobody sure what to do. At one point we were behind a pickup with a young woman facing backwards in the truckbed wearing the saddest expression ever. It damn near broke my heart, and I'm a rather cantankerous son of a bitch. I had to switch lanes, it was so bad. I had my own sad face, but I still wasn't convinced that I wasn't going to see the damn show, so it's not really "sad" so much as a mixture of shock and denial and determination. I figured at the very least some people would congregate and we could chill out and listen to the shows over the radio and see how things looked the next day. Finally made it to a rest area where there was already a happenin' scene underway. Got myself some food that wasn't a Clif Bar and took a nap on the grass under a tree.
- I woke up a few hours later and everybody was gone. Cars were there, but no people. Not one soul. What the hell? What had I missed? I figured some had decided to hoof it, but everybody? It was seriously spooky. Oh well, whatever, I took the opportunity to clean up a bit and organize the car. Eventually a local woman drove up and informed us that people had parked up and down the freeway and fast-thinking farmers had been giving people rides. Hotcha! Lucky for us she had decided to do one more run around the rest areas, as most everyone had already been transported. We hurriedly packed up a couple of small bags and jumped in her van. Samantha, Blaze, Allen, and Tammy were their names, and the daughter was just loving the shit out of everything, getting to meet all sorts of new and interesting people. They were all incredibly friendly and supportive and pleased as punch to have us there. What a welcome! But it gets even better for me. The cops had been allowing the locals to drop people off about five miles from the front of the venue, but when we got there, they decided to let us drive past their checkpoint, to just a mile from the back gate. Let this be a lesson to all of you: patience is a virtue. I didn't get pissy and drive off, I didn't rashly decide to walk twenty miles, and I napped through the first waves of local shuttles. As a result I had probably the easiest time getting there of anyone attending. I'm sorry for the rest of you, but, hey, good deal for me.
- The walk was relatively mild, and it appears some people started partying a little early, as a few were fascinated by a tree. Or maybe that's just the angle I caught 'em at. Lots of nice Americana scenery, too. Before long we were relaxing and enjoying gyros at our campsite, which was in the ass-end of the venue, but it was high and dry and relatively easy to get to. By the next morning the mud had mostly dried into a paste, but that photo doesn't even begin to capture it. Imagine that sort of thing everywhere, but in the middle of the night on day three of never-ending rain.
- We set up for the last show and made nice with the folks around us. Tina from New Jersey was our immediate neighbor and there was apparently some sort of VT/NJ rivalry that I couldn't even begin to understand. The crowd filled in nicely for a resplendent afternoon and emotional evening. All I'll say about it for now is that I've been a Velvet Sea fan ever since it brought me back from a spooky Tweezer at Shoreline '00, and to all you Velvet haters out there... how the hell can you spew nastiness about it now that we have this version? I'm getting misty now just thinking about it.
- The next day the shuttle services were a bit more organized and we hopped a ride in the back of a truck to return to the rest stop. We went to Burlington to check out the origins, but my heart just wasn't in it, and we were running on little more than three days' worth of Red Bull by this time. We collapsed in the Denny's, where I remember staring off into space a whole lot and repeatedly walking all the way to the back to the restroom only to find that it was still occupied.
- WAY: No
- Free Stuff: Nothing
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