Once our little sleeping quarters were in order, we headed to the Roundhouse to make our arrival known. At registration, we did check to see what our work schedule was, but the schedule was make-shift and shortly thereafter changed.
How long would one guess it takes one to walk less than a quarter mile? It takes long when you are joyously saying hello to folks you haven’t seen in a year. Besides, that is what one is supposed to do...say hello and hug your neighbor. Upon arriving at the Roundhouse, we became festive with the beat of the drums, the dancers, and the greetings that were robust and plentiful.
Where do I start? Tuesday a.m. brought the sun and the sun brought heat and hunger to weary travelers who were eager to greet the dawn as well as those who have not been greeted during the night. Hurry was had as a meeting was called to advise us of our correct shifts and what was to be expected for each shift. Each shift also has a pit boss. I find it interesting to work under different bosses as each has their own way of going about things. There was one instance where I thought a rebuild was necessary, and I stated so to a higher up than the pit boss. I was advised that if I see something that needs fixing, just do it. Much to the dismay of my pit boss for that evening (my partner), a partial rebuild was done.
The following may sound like work, but there is merrymaking in the chore. 10 a.m. is the start of field work and all are more or less expected to show for a four hour shift prior to the first fire tending shift which starts at 9:00 p.m. The last shift starts at 3:00 a.m. ends at 6:00 a.m. Fieldwork is about gathering wood from the wood shed or field (logs), loading and unloading them from a tractor (these suckers are heavy and usually require two people to pick them up), or gathering slat which either has been or will be cut so that the wood bins (which are very large) may be filled with everything to maintain a night’s or nights’ fire(s). We also build and stuff the cabins/cages, groom the circle, and create corn meal mandalas when need be. During one of the builds, I lost my sole. Yup. My Harley boot sole fell off. A friend of mine had epoxy, but after three years of wear and tear, I opted for a new pair which await me in NY. Luckily, I had my Doc Martens as backup, but those are usually only used when hauling and not tending. Nevertheless, they worked!
I don't remember what night it was, but we were running late and no one had a chainsaw to create the notches for the build. Therefore, a couple of my fire brothers took to axes. One of the blows to the wood made the axe bounce and it almost took my partner's leg off. Heck, they were hacking away only with flashlights and the light of the moon.
All was fine the first couple of days and then wham I was hit with heat stroke on Friday, July 15. Not for anything but it was 103 degrees Fahrenheit and, working in the sun with dark tight clothes and little or no water or food, you will drop like a fly. I dropped like a fly, but I wasn't the only one.
I remember feeling like I needed a Pop Tart and went over to the fire tender’s pavilion to search my bag, but luck did not have it. I then advised my partner that I was in need of something to which he later stated that I was delusional as I had wanted to walk to the grill. From what I can remember, we made it over to the Avalon camp where I sat at a table and then proceeded to the deck where I actually dropped. Before the medics got there, one of the people from Avalon said “grab some bags of ice and get her pants off.” The medics were called and my pants (mind you I go commando) were removed and ice was placed on both sides of my neck, under my arms, and in my groin area. With all those bags being applied, I only felt one. I was hit hard. Despite wanting to disobey their orders, I held to them for fear of being grounded. Grounded means getting the boot from Fire Tribe for the rest of the festival as I would be a liability in that I could fall out again by the fire and cause damage to myself and/or others.
Being the good little thing, I received an IV bag, a large quantity of water, Gatorade and some food. The problem with heat stroke is that the body rejects that which it needs. Therefore, all my intake was made into output just following the full moon ritual of which I had to be driven to and where my ass sat slumped in a chair while everyone else was having fun. After being driven back to the area of my camp, I vomited my brains out.
Saturday’s sun saw me working at the Avalon camp as I was not allowed in the sun nor was I allowed to do proper fieldwork until I improved. Thankfully, my partner was demanding as were all those who were looking out for my welfare. Luckily, I was able to do some relatively mild fieldwork towards dusk, but I was in full gear for the tending of the fire on Saturday night. That was one hell of an awesome fire. Luckily the build was already done, so only the stuffing remained.
The following week (the week of Summerfest) seemed grand save for mad headaches. Nonetheless, I participated in the rest of the week’s fieldwork and tending duties without a glitch. To some this may sound like work, but when you love what you do and love those that you do it with, then the task is a joy to endure and a sorrow to leave. Ah, the prows...not to be wasted from Sirius, were used for builds of the Roundhouse fires.
Last year we replaced a large ass log (burniture a/k/a whale) as someone thought it funny to burn the whale. Well, they did it again this year and the sucker had to be replaced. Burniture is what we sit on as furniture when around the fire. Being that these whales of a log are used for sitting purposes and are sometimes burnt, the name burniture is apropos.
After the big fire of the following Saturday, I wanted to stay up until Sunday’s dawn and pushed my partner to keep his eyes open to the coming sun. He did comply with my wishes. When the light was dwelling nicely around us, I decided to hula hoop with some massive hoop that was laying around. I was doing fine until a young fire brother decided that he would toss wood chips at me as opposed to putting potato chips on my hat.
Oh, there were a few gags going on for sure in the two weeks that I was there. Suspender tag was on thing that I was saying “You're shitting me!” to, but then again, so was everyone else. Once your suspenders have been pulled, you have to find another suspender wearer and tag him/her. You just never know when it will be you and then you are the leper to be avoided at all costs. Also too, my hat was being used to toss potato chips on. Meh! Ah, but I had my own wicked plan. Another one of my young fire brothers had a problem with falling asleep wherever. The deal was that should he be found, he would have one hand duct taped to his crotch and another to his ass while also binding his legs. He was forewarned and I did have my scouts. Even his mom said that “one of these days he is going to wake up with a banana in his ass.” The last bonfire also saw a fellow tribe member change at the height of festival from pants to a skirt and then someone ran off with his pants. When his pants finally came back, my partner tried to run off with them only to hear our brother screaming “Don’t take my pants. Please, don't take my pants!”
Sunday morning saw many people leave and it also saw me back in the med shack as I had a relapse due to the heat of the flames within the heat of the evening and my early morning hula hoop bonanza. Luckily, my partner made sure to check in on me on a regular basis (even though I was out cold) and he even brought me food that he was able to dig up. Sunday also saw most of the festival goers leave as only a few opted for one more day. The others that stayed were the seasonal campers. It was on this night that I asked for a received a burning star although I meant a balanced and burning flower. Nonetheless, a fellow fire brother did create a wonderful interlocking pentacle which upon a good burn fell into the flames.
Monday saw us closing our camp and packing our gear to head back to NYC. Even before arriving to the city limits, I was once again barfing to the tune of a mad headache. The rest of the week was spent almost in a comatose state as we both did a great deal without too much time for ourselves. C’est la vie! Hell, I can’t wait until next year!!
Hey, at least my car did not get hit by the Amish, the police did not have to be called by me or the Amish, I did not have a log fall on my collarbone, nor did my finger get squashed in a port-a-potty door. Yup. This was a good season!
My yearly festival videos have been created and are out. It seems that the community is happy with my work. This pleases me to no end.
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