I left Bonaroo feeling better, but still not very well. My mouth was all swollen and I was tired from the meds. I decided to camp out at Rock Island State Park just North a bit.

The Ranger loved Hemphry, and invited me in to the park. He told me where other Bonarooers were, and really welcomed me. I drove around the loop and was flagged down by some guys who had space on their spot. He said to pull it right in, so I did. They had a tarp system all set up, and were happy to have me. We stayed dry while sharing Bonaroo stories. We talked about all sorts of stuff. It was a good debriefing.

The next day, they took me to a beautiful waterfall. We chilled there for a while before they hit the road. There were paddlers enjoying the swift river, there was a nice breeze, and the sun was shining. What a great day for recuperating! Before Tony and the other guys split, he pointed me down the trail to the swimming hole.

I spent the rest of the day hanging out beside the water, chatting with locals. I ended up meeting some people who lived about an hour north in a town called Cookesville. They invited me there, so I went. I spent a couple nights getting to know the local circle I'd been introduced to. I got my last update finished there, and Hemphry got his valves adjusted.

SPAC I left Cookeville, Tenn. early on Thursday Morning, hoping to make it to SPAC by Friday night, which I did. I arrived on the lot about Six pm, and I was waved up to the front by the parking attendant. Give Thanks! I'd been praying for a good spot towards the front. I was in the rear lot, but was really close to the venue. The people who parked beside me had an extra ticket for the lawn. I was happy. The chance of rain was high, but I wasn't worried. He traded me for some Pure Hemp rolling papers and Hemp energy Fuel bars. Give Thanks! I already had a ticket, and I didn't have to go anywhere!

Before entering the show, I traded a Fuel Bar for a goo ball, from the dude I was parked behind. He had his son with him, and he was making a big batch from a Tupperware container. They looked so sweet as I said goodbye to them, leaving for the gate with the guys with the tickets. I walked along, munching on my goo-ball, so happy to have made it, with a ticket, and for it to be dry out. I had driven in the rain all day long. It had been raining in Virginia and all the way up on 81, and it dried up just as I got North of Schenectity. It had rained so hard, for so long, that the windshield wiper on the right-hand side got loose, so I took it off.

After hanging out selling papers for a while, I decided to go, in before the show actually started. I tried to write out a setlist, but my pen wasn't working, but it was something like Here Comes Sunshine, Mr. Charlie, Old El Paso, Dear Mr. Fantasy, Baba Jingo Looks Like Rain, Something, Something, Lovelight. Joan Osbourne had a blast with Lovelight.

The second set was also spectacular! I think it opened with a sweet Drumz & Space and at some point, Mike Gordon showed up and rocked the house with Phil. They played Eyes of the World, which is always so sweet. One of my favourite points was a ripping Other One intro, where Phil just came out of no where and slammed us with that killer Ba da-da-ba-da-da-dah?.! I was up at the back spinning, having the time of my life, they went into Cryptical Envelopment during the Other One, and it was totally high. I had a really good show.

As I wandered back to Hemphry with papers after the show, I was attracted to the melodic, resonating vibes of an amplified udu. Brother was a local potter, and had a whole selection of hand-thrown, two-chamber udus. If you're not picturing it. It's a vessel with two openings that you slap or cover, and you can bounce the sound in one way, and out the other, or back and forth. They let me try the miked one, and it's a very fulfilling sound. It would be lots of fun to play in a drum circle. Soon he was gonna leave, but all these people had left backpacks in their car, and hopefully they'd show up soon. I agreed, as I said thanks and continued on toward the shakedown so far away.

Out by the back gate, I met a mamma named Christine? who had some great veggie burritos. We hung out and chatted as another girl came up and told us she was raising funds to get her friend out of jail. He was busted for selling ganja food in the lot before the show. Holy smokes! That sucks, I thought about the goo ball I'd had, and how it would have sucked if my guy was busted. A little while later, this girl's friend was there and we were all talking about the situation, and he mentioned the dude's name, and it all clicked. It was the dude who was parked in front of me. He had been busted, and he and his son were taken into custody. I couldn't believe it! I mean I could, because I could remember how they looked as I said bye to them, they were vulnerable. Right out in the open. Now that I knew who they were talking about, I was able to lead them to his car, where they met up with the rest of their friends. Wow, what a trip.

I was about to leave, but then I thought I'd check on the Udu guys. They were still there, quite frustrated that no one had shown up to pick up their stuff. I was laughing, because it was pretty funny. There were three bags left by two different parties. One was a couple who were local, and they just left their daypacks with him, and the other dude was on tour, and he'd left a pretty big tour-pack behind. It was quite mystifying, how two different groups didn't make it back, and it wasn't like the udu guys were hard to find. As the cops were stepping up their "GET OUT", we agreed on a plan. I took the tour pack and they took the local's. Hopefully I'd find Marcus at the next show or two.

I followed the line of cars, passing a few pedestrians, feeling vibes, but no one was hitching. As I turned right out the lot, there was a guy with a guitar on his back and his thumb out, so I stopped. He was wearing black, and had a broad smile, and he asked if I was going to the campground. "Yeah, I'm going to Lee's."

He got his stuff in, as I cleared a spot for him. I felt like I recognized him from the lot, and he told me his name was Owl. His breath smelled like the recent cigarettes and beer. I asked him not to smoke and told him he couldn't drink while I was driving over to the campground. Not even in blissware (a reuseable cup). Driving in the Hemp van, I do all I can to reduce any possible confrontation with the law for whatever reason. Plus, I don't like the smell of stale alcohol, which is a likely side-effect.

We went to Lee's, paid twenty dollars, and found a spot near the river. My friend Dave had reminded me about this place from last year's Phil show. It raged all night long, with a band playing beneath a willow. I was attracted to the jams, like a moth to a light, and soon after, I realized I was beside Dave and his cousin Tim. Dave used to be my neighbour and he took me to my first show, which was Phish at Darien Lake in 1997.

We split for town around Eleven Forty-Five, with the Post Office in sight. I was trying to get there before noon, so we were cruising. Luckily a local jumped in for a ride back into town, and he showed us the quickest way there. We made it, but my birthday card and package hadn't, oh well.

The package has 1,000 of these 9-11 dollars in it and I'm really hoping to get them for Dead Tour. We stopped at a little deli on our way out of town, because there was a smoke shop beside it. They liked the papers, so I got us a grilled veggie sub. Owl was broke, so I helped to feed him. Hartford was a couple hours away and we departed slightly after high noon.

The Meadows Owl's major drama was that he hadn't seen his girlfriend in a long time and he was hoping to see her at the show, but didn't (he got drunk though), and she was leaving for St. Louis, and everyone was telling him that they were breaking up, but he hadn't talked to her, and he didn't have her number, and "Could I smoke a cigarette if I hold it close to the window?"

Owl is a beautiful Rainbow who's just spent four years in NY in and out of apartments, off and on the streets, playing guitar beneath trees and in open Mike's and meeting and greeting folks in the biz. He has a cd, he's made it. It's his. He's an A-camp welcome homer, And has put thousands of miles on his thumb. He's tired from the road and has a rock star type of personality, where he will only play guitar or spange to live. His main goal in a day is to get drunk. He's also in love with Andy, but sometimes he has trouble showing it. "Wake Up and Rage!" His eyes were deep and his smile is one of a kind.

We arrived in Hartford in the rain and all the lots were twenty bucks, so we drove around until we found the free parking which was a parking garage a while away. Finally we parked, and the next thing I knew the people who were beside us came over and wanted to trade us some stuff for two tickets. Sweet!

I brought some boxes and the dude, Marcus? backpack on the walk over to the lot. There was a pretty happening lot, and maybe he'd turn up, it was worth a shot! After a while, making some trades for food and a goo ball, I found a chill spot to stash the backpack and my bag in some peoples rooftop carrier. Just before going in, I was miracled a 200 level pavilion! Sweet! I now had a ticket to kick down! I was hanging with Dillon from J'lai in Montreal, and some other folks and we were talking about last night's show, and I was saying how Lesh just came in on that Other One! and everyone was like yeah, and as I said that, there was a dude beside us with a trading card picture of Phil Lesh, playing his bass. He showed it, as I was saying that, and dude was looking for a miracle and the timing was so perfect so I laid it on him! I traded the card for the ticket, which he was stoked for and so am I! That Phil card is on the dash of Hemphry as I speak!

We all went in, and chilled on the grass for a while. I went down into the show and hung out in the two hundreds which was pretty stuffy, but close. The first set was pretty quick. The Wheel got me moving, and I went out to find Dillon with a stub during Touch of Grey. I kind of screwed up because I borrowed this dude's ticket during Touch, saying I'd be back before intermission. I should have known I couldn't have made it! Because I didn't. That part sucked. Getting Dillon and his friend in helped, but I couldn't find Owl. The second set was pretty hot, starting with Feel Like a Stranger and I think a Playin?

It was a good set, but throughout it, I decided to head back to SPAC to pick up my mail on Monday, because Santanna was playing on Sunday night, I wasn't feeling drawn to Boston and maybe also to shake Owl. Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind his company, but I could tell he was more into being served than into pitching in, and I didn't feel like carrying him around. I met him after the show, and told him about the plan to go back to SPAC. He seemed indifferent. I told him he could come, if he wanted. I really wanted to pick up the Nine-Eleven dollars, so I could hand them out on tour. We wandered around through the misty rain. Every now and then I'd yell, Marcus I got your backpack. Just, I mean just as we headed back to the van, I yelled Marcus I have your backpack! I hear You do? I look over and he's shocked as shit. I was happy to find him and I'm sure he was happier to find me. The rain let up so Owl and I could walk back to the van. Give Thanks!

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Johannes Chapman, Pure Hemp Caravaner
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