Sunday, May 30, 2010
Steph woke around 6 with full excitement of the up coming race, she pecked me on the cheek and took off with gusto. The sound of the rain on the outside of the tarp was magnified by the tent, making it sound like it was raining heavily, also it was slightly chilly, meaning I stayed in bed until about noon, enjoying the sounds of the rain and my warm sleeping bag. Venturing forth, I discovered it wasn’t raining hard at all, quite the auditory illusion. My friend Julian who looks like chuck norris was similarly shocked at the lack of rain. Exploring a segment of the camp site I hadn;t been to yet, I got to meet Jessica from new york, who rode quite well in the slide comp, and I found out later won it. She told me she worked at something called school of rock, she teaches kids who to emulate all their favorite rock stars, as well as helping coordinate orrigionals bands and material. A pretty blond girl offered me the end of her oat meal and a fellow with dreads complimented on my music friday night. They offered a spot in their car to the big race and grabbing the banjo we were on our way. Arriving at the race spot, Daryl called to me and I joined the parksville crew up on a hill. Sitting with those folks reassured my deep connection into the fabric of that little town as well in the greater longboarding, BC and freedom cultures. Since Daryl and I have become friends, he’s taken a radical shift in his outlook at approach to life. Once he worked hard cutting grass, bought and smoked copious amounts of pot, drank a lot, then skateboarded and played punk music when he could. Now he picks mushroom in the woods, had delved deep into taro and seems to have a calmer existence, albeit with many more tattoos. We played a board game on the side of a hill and watched racers explode around “carnage corner” the one deadly corner in an otherwise calm and relatively easy race. We witnessed some wicked wipeouts, recoveries and rene bail, loose her shoe, recover, put it back on, and continue down in front of other racers. The race seemed anti climactic, not much emphasis put on the final runs of the competition, but still incredible to witness such skill and precision ridding. Pilling bails of hay into the Uhal was a fun team experience, my red and black sweater was covered in hay, a fellow with a blow wand gave me a blast of wind. Some free sausages were enjoyed slowly, a bite every few minutes and ANOTHER banjo was enjoyed on the shuttle back to camp. At the site some young locals and a native queen named Tina, all hung around picking and grinning. Molly Kennedy is a name that folks should put in their memory banks, this young lady is a fire brand. Her banjo and singing skills were superb for someone playing eight months, but she also works hard and grows her own food. Pushing Dominique on the tireswing, doing yoga shirtless, teaching youngun’s to play clawhammer was all lovely, then ross the sound guy and hoodie came up, talking amongst themselves I over heard them saying the intended to play before the awards ceremony had cancelled. I offered to play and hoodie asked if I would. After packing up a drum kit we were rolling away in the green painted station wagon of the green team, ridding in style. The kit was set up, someone asked if I wanted a drummer, and all of the sudden I was performing for a packed house again. Some of the tunes were repeated, but the general group clap/stomp/singalong was achieved again. The best part was shouting “ I say danger you say bay. Danger!...” The gig was smooth and wild, calling out to green team, red eye and the various nationalities was a crowd stoker. Ross motioned on more, I was at a loss, the rene said, “big balls”, then came my version of the song “tiger woods” by dan bern. During the set, Striker and hoodie were tossing much merch, it was humorous to see kids of all ages scamper to dive for boards, t shirts and stickers. The awards were a pleasure to see because of the appreciation the organizations, sponsors, riders and fans have for those that push themselves and those top spots and evolutions. The green wagon was full afterwards, so Hoodie and I and scoot’s sister waited in the warm evening. Back at camp, back at the fire, watching, warming, bands playing, then wild techno dance party taking, into the loco and back. Steph and I missioned for various treasures, which we found, then crashed.