Entranced at Ren Fest

Last night the Hunter's Moon shone brightly as it arced across the great black canopy of night. Its hue cascaded over the clouds as if pouring pixie dust across the land. The edges of the moon were swimming in translucent rings that faded as the luminescent orb climbed ever higher into the sky. I could almost hear the cadence of the hoof beats falling upon the earth kicking up dirt and leaving a trail into the wilds of the lands beyond the horizon.
The riders, with hounds in stride, made for the distant hunting grounds in search of their prey... their sustinence. What do they talk about on the way? I wonder. Do they discuss strategies for bringing down their quarry? Do they speak of their lives and their loves. Do they partake in tales of passion or betrayal? Perhaps they spin fantastic stories of great hunters of yore.
Meanwhile, as the frost tickles the noses of the great Ursa in the north, he rushes to eat his fill of berries and what fish may be left to catch. With a swipe of his mighty paw, a struggling salmon flutters his fins and writhes one last time before its head is crushed under Ursas jaws. Before long, nature's banquet will close.

...all this from one glance at our moon. One cannot think of the night without the moon nor can I think of the moon without thinking of the mysterious past that moon has witnessed. This weekend past, I visited some of this history. And oh what a visit it was....

It started off innocently enough. A group of travelers assembled for a journey into the lands of wonder & merriment known as the Texas Renaissance Festival. "Hip Hip... Hazah" echoed through my mind as the time for departure neared.

I am reminded of one of my favorite expressions... "There's many a slip twixt a cup and a lip." And were there ever slips! The first was a sudden "pop" followed by the sound of shattered glass falling to the ground. We were loading vehicles and talking about travel plans when one of our travel companions leaned onto the glass of an open window in my truck and the glass couldn't support the pressure, so it popped and shattered. Our departure was delayed by a few minutes as we collected shards of glass from the seat and floor of my truck. My thoughts went from "Hip Hip... Hazah" to "Hip Hip... oh boy!" I guess it didn't matter much at that point, I don't have a working a/c anyway.

DEPARTURE

After a pit stop at the ATM (nothing like technology to enhance a trip into the past) we made our way to the rendevous point. My co pilot and I pulled off the road at a designated spot to meet the others. We were the first ones there. About 2 minutes after we arrived, an unexpected visitor befell us... from behind... with colorful lights spinning in quick circles. Two ambulating beings dressed in like uniforms (a little more of the modern world to see us off on our journey) walked up to the side of my truck. "May I see you drivers license and proof of insurance, please?" he asked in a tongue familiar to my ears. We weren't in the old world yet. We were still trying to escape this one. hehe
Apparently our exit from the freeway and pulling over on the side of an empty road aroused enough curiosity to warrant an inquiry into our activities. All was well, he was just checking things out. We explained we are going camping and waiting to meet our companions. Good thing he didn't ask to search the gear. I can't begin to imagine the mess that would have left. It took the better part of a whole evening just to cram everything into the boxes. I'd hate to have to do it again... on the side of the road.

My travel companion, of the female persuasion, was able to laugh with me, while eliciting the occasional honk from passersby as she stood in the road making adjustments to her shorts. I suppose that would look interesting if I were driving by at 70 mph too. Its a small wonder no one slammed on the brakes to get a closer look. Once we were assembled we made our way off. I couldn't help but wonder what hiccup lay ahead of us next.

ROAD TRIP

Much of the trip was uneventful. When traveling, "uneventful" is a good thing. That is until we hit the toll way in Houston. This was one of those days where I wished I had kept my mouth shut. "Its quicker to take the toll road." I said. It sounded like a great idea... at the time. Of course by the time we got to the camp grounds, I realized I forgot the salt and pepper... you know... for my foot. A foot in the mouth is more palatable with some spice. :-)

After a bit of confusion as to where other members of the travel party were we finally made it to the camp site.

HOW WE FARED AT THE FAIREST FAIRE

That first night all but I went to the bon fire to partake in the drumming, dancing, and festivities. No, I wasn't being grumpy. I just needed to unwind a little. Some down time was in order. I enjoyed a nice cigar and scribed a few pages in my journal. I could hear the rythm of the drums in the distance and the faint glow of a fire just up yonder. After a while I retreated into my ipod and finished my cigar. I wished that I had rememebred to bring my drum. Oh well, I figured on buying another one the next day anyway.

I didn't sleep in a tent. I brought one... well, two actually, but one was borrowed from friends that, sadly, were unable to join us. :-( But mine was donated to a worthy cause... a girl that had never been camping before. Who was I to deny the camping virgin a little bit of solitude behind the material walls of a tent? At least for her first time. :-)
So I made up my bed in my truck. It was quite cozy.... except for one thing....

...all the DAMN YELLING!!! There was a group of college aged 3rd graders arguing, cursing, and apparently slapping and head butting. This carried on for about 3 hours. But I managed to get some sleep after all.

The next day we went to the fair and the first thing I did was buy a new drum. I called it my Goldilocks Drum. I already have a drum a little bigger and one a bit smaller, now this one was just in the middle. And what a drum it is! Wonderful tone. I couldn't wait until that night. I planned on attending the fire that night and bringing my drum along... of course!

For me, most of the excitement came that night. I thoroughly enjoyed taking in the sights and the shows, but all day I was thinking about that night. You see, the last time I camped at the Ren Fest, there was no bon fire. There were no fires at all. Now, the campgrounds looked like a scene from some war movie where armies were camping out.

During the day our group split up and went several different ways. But we gathered again for the fireworks. Its always a spectacle. After the show I made my way to the gate, picking up my new drum as I passed the store where I bought it. Ever so eager my fingers tapped anxiously at the skin as I walked.

ON INTO THE TRANCE

Upon returning to the camp site we commenced with the preparing of dinner. Spaghetti was on the menu. I had a small problem, though. I was accustomed to tossing the spaghetti onto the ceiling to see if it was ready. No ceiling. Hence the problem. So I improvised. I tossed it onto myself. It stuck to my chest nicely. :-) Of course just about anything would stick to my velcro. If its good enough for me... its good enough for them. No one complained about the extra salt.
:-)

Shortly after eating, with my drum in tow, we made our way toward the sounds of beating drums and the noises of a collected crowd of people. I was becomming more excited with every step. As we approached the crowd, the fire was far smaller than what I thought it would be. By the size of the crowd you'd think there was a house burning... at least a shed. hehe

Apprehensive at first, I plopped down near the back edge where I could find some room on a log to sit. Gradually I tapped my drum as I was figuring the beat. I was a bit shy, but began playing a little more forcefully as I found the rythm. After a little while my friends called out to me. They had a spot for me closer to the center. After a short gulp, I squirmed my way toward their voices. I settled in near a few drummers and I had a bit of a view of the fire. There were some people dancing, mostly girls. I'm not complaining.

As my hands warmed and my confidence grew I began to play a little louder. It was noticed. A few of the dancers moved toward me a little. One of the challenges here is the sheer number of drummers trying to keep a steady beat. You'd think it was easy...

I wriggled my way closer to a guy, to whom I'd introduce myself, who was playing rather well. I followed his rythm and together we seemed to draw a few people toward us. Soon thereafter another young drummer joined us and followed our beat. The mood shifted a little as the rythm caught on... for a little while anyway.

I found my groove. We had a nice flow going, Rick & I, that is. A few more guys scooted toward us and we scooted a little more toward center. I was getting the hang of this. At one point, one of my friends was calling out to me trying to get my attention. He pointed out there were girls dancing topless around the fire. I would have to be extremely focused on something to miss that! But I cought a glimpse or two. Sorry folks... I was into the rythm.

Then came the pinnacle of the night for me. There was a brief lull in the drumming. Drummers were drinking water or beer, or whatever was nearby, rubbing their hands and taking some deep breaths. So I started up again.... forcefully and with confidence. It took about a minute then Rick picked up my beat. Then another and shortly thereafter all drummers took my beat in.... that's right... MY beat. It may not be a big deal.. but at that moment... at that point in time in this vast universe I started a wave and hundreds of people were riding it! Yeah baby... and the beat went on.... and on.... feverishly I played that drum tirelessly. I wasn't about to give up the beat. People were playing, dancing all in unison to a rythm that I established. I was entranced. My arm was on fire for a while but I did not yield. Sweat saturated my shirt and kilt. I would not stop. There was a crowd of girls dancing all around me... their skirts and hair brushing my skin. I could barely look up... I was so engrossed in my drumming I wanted nothing to distract me. I had to keep the beat. I had to know that I could. And that, my friends is what it was about. I had to know that I could! And I did!

At one point a strange woman jammed a bottle in front of my face offering to pour me a drink while I continued to drum, but I refused.... no distractions, remember? Besides.... "Who are you and what the hell is in that bottle?" No thanks. I could see the headlines now... "Scottish wannabe found in the woods with kilt around his ankles and drum between his legs" Enquiring minds want to know!

Folks, I know this is a long entry. But if you are still with me, then thank you!

Most of our group have dispersed by now. One remained with me. The mood kind of faded when we were constantly asked to stop drumming and move farther back. So a small contigent of us moved beyond the arc of the large circle and kept drumming, but to our own rythm now. There were too many drummers in the center trying to be soloists. Its OK though, I had my moment!

I looked over to my friend who was sticking around and he looked tired. He looked like he was drumming because he had to now. He suggested calling it a night. And I agreed. I was quite reluctant to stop. I wanted to experience that "feeling" again. What a rush it was. So we departed and hobbled back to the camp site. We were tired. My hands were very warm. I was worried that I would be sore the next day. I half expected my fingers to swell into stubby little sausages, but they didn't. I was quite surprised to find that I was fine in the morning. My elbow was a bit sore, but not to the point where it hurt.

ANOTHER DAY AT THE FAIRE

The second day was less eventful. It was more tranquil. I donned "regular" clothes. My kilt was so damp from the night before and the humid morning I decided against wearing it again. As a result, I was the one taking the pictures that day as opposed to being in them. Oh well. :-)

We took in a little more sweet food this time. Perhaps to replenish what we spent the previous day. We left the park by 2:30. We packed up slowly and gradually made our way toward Houston and on toward home. But we weren't there yet.

WHEN A COKE ISN'T A COKE

On our way out of Magnolia we made a pit stop for some road food and gas. I felt the need for a sweet carbonated beverage while the gas was filling. So I make my way over to the soda machine (of which I am notoriously distrustful). I usually avoid beverage dispensing machines.
But I figured that I wanted to get my drink and get on the road as quickly as possible. All the while, my travel buddy was stuffing her face while amusing herself at my shenanigans.

I put my dollar bill in the machine followed by two dimes. The dimes didn't register. Nor did they fall through the coin return. I told the clerk about the dimes and he seemed confused about how to proceed. So he came out to the machine and looked at it sternly. "I tried that already" I told him. So he offered to refund my dimes. But that wouldn't help me get a coke. I still had my dollar in there. Dollar bills don't generally fall through the coin return.

So he gave me a quarter. At first I thought "What about my dollar" then it dawned on me that he was giving me the quarter to put in the machine... duh! :-)
So I did and the money registered. I breathed a small sigh of relief as I pressed the "Coke" button. I waited a moment as I heard the gentle rumble of something happening inside. But still no soda. Then the "Sold Out" light came on. Figures. So I pressed the next one. Same result. Then I pressed the third and last "Coke" button. I heard the gears and the machine sounded like it was finally going to surrender its booty. Just as I began to smile at the thought of a cold coke washing down my throat (while my sandwich is marinating in mustard, mind you) my soda appears.

It was a Sprite.

So that, my friends, is my tale.

In honor of the Hunter's Moon and the drumming and dancing of this weekend past, I leave you with this video. It called "The Hunt". Enjoy.

Be well.