As I drove our Red Pontiac up the winding ½ mile gravel road at 2:30am on Friday morning it first seemed as though we had taken a wrong turn as we came to a closed gate marked Do Not Enter. Although by every calculation we had figured that we had to be on the right path, as we had seen multiple signs all leading to the road. As we came to the gate I jumped out and checked to see if it was locked, which it wasn’t, so I proceeded to open it just wide enough for our Pontiac to slip through. After taking care to close the gate behind us, we continued up the long gravel drive. The early morning mist had become a dense fog as we trekked on up the hill, making it almost impossible to see out through the windshield.

     As another ¼ mile fell behind us, I began to wonder if we were truly on the right path or not. But my answer came as the fog became thicker, and I was forced to stick my head out the window for better visibility. The second I rolled the window down and turned off the music, I heard the first sounds of life, as the sound of the car was slowly drowned out by the sound of a funky baseline and guitar beat.

     The sounds quickly became music, which instantly energized us, waking us from our drowsy stupor. Immediately dispelling the tired cramped vibes of our home of the past 8 hours of monotonous driving. As we came to the bottom of the gravel road, the fog seemed to disappear, leaving us in the midst of a wild orgy of fantastic lights, colors, and sound. The driveway had opened into an open pasture, to the immediate right of the main stage. And even in the midst of darkness, we could make out the entire festival ground light by the bright stars of the Tennessee sky. The grounds sprawled over a 10 acre expanse of rolling green hills accompanied by a fantastic view of the mountains off in the distance.

     As soon as this wild scene came into view, we were jovially greeted by one of the workers, who quickly ran off to get us bracelets for the event. After making the exchange, he told us to drive up the grassy hill and find a spot to park and set up camp. We pulled in to a line of cars near the side of the wood line at the top of the camp, and quickly got out of the car to get set up so we could go and enjoy the music. But before we even closed the doors to our car we were being greeted by our neighbors. Who just so happened to be some of the best looking, and coolest girls I’ve ever met.

     We set up our tents in no time, packed up our soft cooler full of beer, and headed down to the main stage with our new lady friends. A band by the name of Ganacita was jammin out, and even at 3:30 in the morning there were about 500 people dancing. Grooving to the electric cool funk being pumped out of the 1000+ watt stacks lined up on the stage. You could feel the electricity streaming through the air, and after a short time sitting wasn’t even an option. The energy of the crowd was rising, feeding off of the bands perfect transitions. If you’ve ever been to a good show, you know exactly what I’m talking about… It’s that almost unexplainable force that drives you to your feet, that seemingly cosmic energy wave that binds you to the rest of the world, the music, and people around you.

     And with this type of groove going on there was no way any of us were leaving the scene. We all danced until sunrise, channeling the music into an unstoppable energy that continued on through three more days of wild ecstasy.

     After a few hours of sleep, we all awoke to start it all over again, throwing the disc around in the hot Tennessee sun, chilling out and taking in the amazingly surreal atmosphere we had all created. By the second night we had met so many people that the names started to fog, although names became seemingly unimportant in contrast to the collective whole.

     As Eddie mentioned awhile back, I almost cut my finger off with a razor sharp hatchet up at Al’s place, although up until the second night of the festival my finger was healing amazingly well and no longer needed a compression bandage. However around 3:00am the second night after having met a bunch of the band members, I was invited to play with them for a set up on stage. I immediately jumped to the opportunity and got on the hand drums to play. We started hot and were really cookin’ by the time I realized that my finger had opened up, spurting blood all over the drums I was playing; being so focused on the music, I hadn’t realized how bad it was! Luckily the drums were tilted towards the back of the stage, so no one could see what had happened as I continued to play while wiping the drums off with the sleeve of my shirt. I played for another ten minutes until I knew that I had to get off the stage, and fast, before I completely ruined my finger and the drums. So with a quick wave I left the stage to get my med kit from the car. On the way off I had to make it through a crowd of people, many who wanted to shake my hand or give me a hug, as I was forced to stick my hands under my shirt. The last thing I wanted was to worry anyone, and thankfully it was dark enough that no one was able to see the damage I had done to my finger while trying to put on a good show.

     All I wanted to do was get back on stage and play, but by the time I finally fixed myself up and got back to the stage, the music was ending. I got back on and continued to play for the last 20 minutes, although unfortunately I wasn’t able to play half as fast or articulated with my sliced up index. Moreover, I was disappointed in the fact that I couldn’t get on the guitar as we had planned; as I couldn’t hold a pick or even strum with the bandage on.

     Although the festival went on, and I was still able to enjoy some quiet time with my neighbor Abby, as well as some great conversation and dancing with all our new found friends.

     It’s pretty hard to put an entire festival into words, but one thing I can say is that every time you enter a festival gate, you suddenly feel as though you’re home. No mix of words or phase can touch the sense of knowing that you were there in that time and place in the world, for what ever it is worth.

http://www.boombutywah.com/

     Unfortunetly we had some serious problems with our cammera during the show.  But we’re working on pulling some of the corrupted data off the card.  I think we’ll be able to at least get something for ya’ll! More soon…

Here are some pictures from our first few days at Al’s house.

We have spent the last few days at a music festival in Kingston, Tennessee. I spoke to many people about the cultural differences between people in the south compared to people in the north. Through observation and conversation it is evident that the people in the south are more open and sociable.  When approaching someone to engage in conversation they are open to share their personal values and cultural norms. I am not sure exactly why the people here more friendly than people from the north.

I interviewed the owner of the property Joey who organized the whole event. His main goal in these events is to create a different culture of people who can relax, talk, and listen to music. He is trying to drive people away from the antisocial norm of watching television all day long. I agree with the fact that too many Americans sit at home all day rather than going outside and enjoying the world. People like Joey do not care about making money but instead care about the happiness of the people. In fact, he was thousands of dollars short from breaking even. However, he was happy to know that all members of the festival had enjoyed themselves. This appears to be the overall theme of these events.

Joey spent extra money on this show compared to the previous year because he wanted to create a better atmosphere for more people to enjoy. There is an extra stage so more bands can play. In addition, he included bathrooms, showers, food vendors, light shows, and additional sound gear. He spent extra money assuming more people would come to the show. Unfortunately, the economy had an evident role in the guest list this year. He was upset to not see more people enjoying this culture because of money problems.

I interviewed several different band members to see their view of culture. Many of them do not get paid for their services. They all believe in the overall theme of bringing happiness to the everyday people rather than adapting to the corporate community to become rich with money. They despise musicians who sell out to corporate America and leave behind their true fans. Too many musicians conform to popular norms to become wealthy.

I spoke with a food vendor named Bill who travels to these musical festivals every weekend. He also strongly agrees with the other people I spoke with. He claims that money does not bring happiness. Bill states that the average person seeking the “American dream” is trapped in a consistent loop of working everyday to achieve financial freedom but they may never achieve true happiness. He works at the music festivals every weekend to enjoy the culture rather than working the average job and only being concerned about money. Overall, the ideas and cultures of the people I met are enlightening. They broadened my perspective and helped me to enjoy the simple things in life.

We depart our home of Connecticut bringing along a bundle of technology. This includes two laptop computers, one digital camera, and one cellular phone. We use a GPS tracking device that is connected to a laptop via USB. We have a portable power inverter – a device that plugs into the cigarette lighter which allows us to maintain battery power on our laptops. In addition, we have Internet connectivity by connecting the laptop to my cellular phone to access the Verizon Wireless network at roughly DSL speed. This enables us to access the World Wide Web at any location in which phone service is available. This is essential to achieve communication with our professor by posting online.

We have been backcountry camping for many days and there is no internet or cellular phone service in the wilderness. To compromise for these connection problems we have been recording our experience in notebooks. We have so much to share with you all but it’s difficult to find time to upload everything. Between the challenge of managing our budget, connecting to the internet, and most of all finding a location to sleep every night! We will organize our notes, pictures, and videos to post ASAP!

we are in Shenadoah National Park. There is almost no service here because we are at 3300 ft elevation. We have over 100 pictures but i can only share a few right now because of our connection. More to come!…..

Hey all…  We are on the fourth day of our journey so far.

The past few days have been tremendous, as we have camped, hiked, and driven over 700 miles of America’s Eastern Coast.  I have so much to share about our travels and encounters just over the past few days, however we are about to be off the grid for a few as we are entering Shenandoah National Park.  The park offers a 105 mile scenic drive overlooking some of the country’s most beautiful scenery (except when the weather is like todays).  We’ve made our way down to Virginia and are about to drive down Skyline Drive in Shenandoah National Park (This is the 105 mile scenic drive).  Unfortunately the weather is terrible, raining and overcast, with a forecast of lightning and thunder storms to come over the next few days.  Along with the bad weather, the ranger informed us that we will be reaching an area with no service over the course of the next 500 sq miles.  However during our stay in the park we will have the chance to venture out into the Blue Ridge Mountains as well as onto a portion of the Appalachian Trail to experience some true backcountry hiking and camping.

The people that we have met so far are so completely different from the folks in CT.  Everyone seems to be much more friendly, caring, and open, as opposed to some of the snobbier/closed minded people of CT.  As Eddie had mentioned before we were in upstate New York, somewhat lost and happened to stop off at the Millbrook Restaurant, about 30 miles outside of Port Jervis.

As we pulled in we saw two men standing outside talking and decided to ask them about directions and possible options for camping and sightseeing.  We ended up talking with them for a short while about the nature of our trip and overall plans, while they informed us of some of the local laws and regulations in the area.  As it turned out, one of the men was the proprietor of the restaurant and the other was a local man named Al Renggh, who spoke with a distinctive Swiss accent.  When we brought up the question of free camping, both of them started to laugh.  They continued on to explain that nothing of the sort up there was free, however very nonchalantly Al invited us to follow him up to his house to camp for free.  Also offering to show us where the closest gas station was, as we were in desperate need of fuel.  We didn’t quite know what to make of the situation, as we had only known him for about 15 minutes, but decided to at least follow him up to his place to further evaluate of the scene.  The restaurant was already way out in the sticks along the Delaware River to begin with, so Eddie and I had some cautious reservation to begin with, let alone following a complete stranger further into the woods.  However during our talk I sensed that he was an educated, kindhearted man just by his mannerism and general disposition.  But regardless, it’s always best not to judge a book by its cover.

Anyways, we jumped back into our red Pontiac and proceeded to follow Al up further into the “backcountry”.  We drove for about 5 miles through some densely wooded forest past a few summer camps before seeing his signal-light suggesting a left turn onto an uphill gravel road.  As we were driving into the way, Eddie and I looked at each other laughing, “This is how the best horror movies start!”  Although within the next 10 seconds we were in front of the most gorges house I have ever seen.  10 foot high glass panels lined the front of the decidedly European looking house on both floors complete with multiple patio type decks at varying heights of the roof.  All along the house there were beautiful garden beds, accompanied by fantastic wood sculptures and other handmade art.

The sight of the house and it’s surroundings, as well as the two other cars in the driveway immediately dispelled our doubts.  As we were getting out of the car, another car pulled up the long driveway as Al chuckled, “This place is like a movie there’s always something going on!”  It turned out to be Al’s son, who got out to say hello.  He was a well built taller man, in his late 20’s, and introduced himself with his full name.  We could tell that there was something definitively militaristic about the way he carried himself, and as we later found out, he had been attending West Point and was scheduled to go out to Arizona in the upcoming weeks to learn to fly helicopters for the Army.  Although he was just home briefly, we learned that he had already served a significant amount of time in the service, and had already been in the Middle East serving a tour in the infantry in 2004.  Although I was curious to know about what it was really all about, Eddie and I kept the conversation light as it seemed apparent that he had seen some serious action.  He told us a little about the IED’s and anti-personal mines while looking at the ground, and as he always looked you in the eyes while on any other topic, I took this as a sign that he was almost back in that time and place in his mind.  So we stopped the army talk and moved on to other topics.  Just like his father he was extraordinarily kind and generous, and made our stay so much more enjoyable.

During our conversation Al had gone inside, and as his son was leaving he came out to show us his property.  He lead us up the back steps (hand cut and laid), that neatly curved around a 10 foot wide manmade pond, beyond which stood a wooden camping platform complete with a fire pit and a wooden bench and table.  At this point everything was already so far past our expectations of what we would encounter, we couldn’t believe our eyes.

After setting up camp, we went down to the gas station with Al for gas, beer and other miscellaneous supplies.  Upon returning to his house he showed us the inside, which was also distinctively European and all custom built.  Inside the first door from the driveway was a paradise!  What we expected to be a mud room, consisted of a slate floor with a small indoor pond for fish, a circular table as well as a countertop equipped with a sink, coffee maker and other kitchen supplies.  We found out that Al was a mason by trade, but there was no doubt that he possessed an awesome ability in every other conceivable area work as well.  I didn’t think it could get any more impressive than the fact that almost the entire house was built with his own two hands, until he started to explain the engineering…

(I will conclude the details of our stay at Al’s when we reach service! Look forward to PART II)

Within the week we should be able to post what we have written down in our notebooks over the course of the past few days in the mountains!

As a quick aside, we are currently at about 1,700 ft elevation overlooking a seemingly endless expanse of valleys, streams, and rivers! More in a few…

Day 1

We’re off on the road and I am driving. Our target for the day is to drive 8 hours to skyline drive in Virginia. After two and a half hours we stop at a rest stop to collect our thoughts and decide on our next move. We find someone with a broken down car and try to jump start it. Unfortunately, there car had a bigger problem than just the battery. We take a small walk through the woods, stretch out and Peter takes his turn driving.

We take a detour and arrive at Port Jervis, NY. We come across a small military surplus store and talk with the shop owner Joe for 20 minutes. He gives us a brief history of the town including its main tourist’s attractions. The main attractions are the Delaware River which is a popular location for camping and rafting.  Joe suggests that we hit hawks nest which is near where we are.

We are now sitting in the parking lot contemplating our next destination and Peter is playing with copper-head snake. We then drive 30 seconds down the road and find a tag sale. Peter picks up a guitar tuner and a book by Abbie Hoffman for 3 dollars. The people give us a small toy for good luck. We grab directions for hawks nest again and we are on our way. It now starts raining and Pete says, “How the f@#k do I operate the wiper”

We drive through the beautiful scenery which includes the Delaware River on one side and the mountain on the other. The hawks nest is a windy road that is known for this scenery. We continue to drive aimlessly as we see people boating down the Delaware. Our gas tank is almost empty and we pull over at a local restaurant to ask for directions to the nearest station. In addition, we ask if there are any free camping sites in the area. We meet an older fellow named Al and we follow him to his house up the road. He allows us to set up camp in the back yard.

Upon driving up the drive way we are amazed by what we see. There are various wood sculptures and other works of art. The house is absolutely incredible. Everything in the house is a piece of artwork. There are indoor ponds with plants and various décor throughout the house.

We are extremely grateful for this stranger’s generosity towards us. In fact, he cooks us a homemade meal that consisted of sesame chicken, peppers, and fried potatoes.

We spoke with Al’s son and he is a member of the US army. He served in Iraq in 2004 and he informed us on the lifestyle of living there. In The culture of Iraq, it is normal for people to carry weapons.

Peter forgot to bring his camping hatchet, so Al let us have one of his extra ones. Al sharpened it for us because it was pretty dull. Peter proceeded to flip the hatchet and try to catch it. The newly sharpened hatchet cut a 3 inch gap in peters finger. We patched up his finger with gauze and put antibiotic on it. We then drove out into town to ask directions to the nearest hospital. Unfortunately, the nearest hospital was in Brooklyn NY and it was 45 miles away. So, we pulled over and inspected his finger. The bleeding stopped and we determined that he did not need to go to the hospital. We turn around and drive back to Al’s house to reminisce on the “amusing” incident.

Peter, Al, and myself sit at the table drinking Budweiser and discussing various topics which include the comparison of political views and current federal and state laws. This conversation was very intellectually diverse, turning out to be an eye opening experience. Al is originally from Switzerland and informed me on some of the laws down there. One law is that every private property in a sense is somewhat public property. This means any person is allowed to set up camp on your property as long as they do not cause any damage. This information made us realize why Al was so open to us staying on his property.

Overall, day 1 was a very interesting experience. The people here are all very friendly and open to offer help. Even know we haven’t traveled too far off from Connecticut I can already tell the difference in the attitudes of the everyday people. I hope to meet more interesting people throughout the country. However, I do not expect to find a house as beautiful as Al’s.