This report is a non-linear hodge-podge of my recollection of the week of June 15th -21st. Most of what I describe is what I experienced and does reflect what my Spice felt or experienced. Only they can give a full review of their encounter. Also, I can’t cover everything that happened last week, but I can tell you, I’ll be coming back next year.

On the Saturday before PSG, G constructed a cage work to fit inside the bed of the truck. When he has finished, he’d made a framework that would hold most of our camping supplies, and allow us to take both bicycles (mine and R’s) to the Wisteria Campgrounds. It towered over the truck and almost cleared 8 ft. I remarked that all it needed was a crotchety grandmother perched precariously atop the pile in a rocking chair. By weeks’ end, it would be known to all as the HMS CLAMPETT.

Sunday started early with G and I getting things packed. Checking our list, we started to load things into the truck. Well, that’s not true. We started to move things outside and G tried to formulate how the hell everything would fit in the truck. By mid morning we were on our way out of Illinois and headed towards Ohio. (Still forgot the bowls and the peanut butter. Blah!)

G drove HMS Clampett and we followed behind in the sweetie-mobile. After much begging and whining on my part, R let me drive the rest of the way after lunch. The roads were clear and we kept checking each other cell-phonically (it’s a word now, so bite me.) every 50 miles or so.

B was keeping in contact with us, and acting as 3rd navigator. She’d called us after we’d started out and said she’d just started packing. (Strangely enough, we passed each other a couple of times without making visual contact and she still beat us there.) Checking back and forth, B told us that we hadn’t gotten lost and were on the right track.

We gained an hour by traveling 2 states to the east. The drive to the site was less than 6 hours and we rode into Wisteria feeling triumphant that we’d finished the trek.

We settled just outside of Chaos Camp. This was the name where R and B’s friends camped. We did manager to find a relatively level spot which proved to be fortuitous against the rain.

That evening we set up the tent and the pavilion and slowly settled in. We reviewed the schedule of workshops, performances, rituals, and lectures and chose our favorites for the week.

The storm came in sheets of rain and guts of wind on Monday. R was smart enough to suggest that G cover our tent with the plastic sheeting we brought. This kept our kitchen/porch/reading area from getting soaked and blowing away. The level spot we camped in and the tarp underneath kept the rain from getting in the tent. The first 2 nights in the tent (Sunday and Monday) were marked by rain and wind.

Tuesday and Wednesday stand out in my mind because of the workshop that we did on the Ma’at (read Mah- Hot) tarot with the artist that created it. I was amazed at the myriad of painting that she created for this deck and the reinterpretations she came up with for each of the cards. (Even the minor arcana). I’m still working on my interpretation of the reading.

Later in the week, R and I did our volunteer work. We chose to go to the kids area to look after the tykes and make sure they didn’t kill each other for 3 hours. That was easy as most of them were well behaved. (That was another thing that had changed over the years. There were a LOT more kids at the gathering and most of them knew how to act at a gathering. i.e. None of them were rude or uncontrollable.)

We’d brought our bicycles in hopes of riding around the campsite. That didn’t happen. It was much easier to walk everywhere. R and I walked the campsite several times. She had her umbrella and a good coat of sunscreen. I skipped about forgetting to reapply the SPF 75 and got burned all over my back and arms. (I never said I was smart.)

We went to a concert performed by the band “Coyote Run” at the main stage in the center of camp. I was happy to hear them do their version on “Oak and Ash and Thorn” as well as a Gwydion song called “The Wintry Queen”. Several people started dancing in front of the stage during many of the songs. When the mosquitoes started to get fierce, we left and went back to our camp.

We spent several nights around their campfire drinking lots of good mead, talking to the wee hours and then stumbling off to bed.

What surprised me were all the people that would walk up to our campsite and start talking with (or in one case, start performing for) us for no reason than that they could do so. I guess I’d forgotten how friendly folks can be at a gathering.

As, I said before we walked everywhere and took in everything that event had to offer. We ate some of the food we brought and ate at least one meal a day at Caffeina’s and the other food stands they had on site. There were also a number of shops that offered everything from hand thrown clay chalices, to body painting, to fire spinning supplies, to lovely clothing, to talking drums. It was the closest thing you’d expect to a Pagan Mall.

R bought a few dresses (not in black, if you can imagine!), a Herne tapestry, and a sarong for me. (I wore it for the rest of the gathering and little else.) We kept ourselves from buying too much. We could have easily dropped a few hundred dollars on all the lovely pretties that everyone had for sale. R picked up a copy of the Ma’at tarot. For a completely redone tarot made from the oil paintings of the artist, it’s quite the impressive deck.

Another presentation was the “Mead Meet and Greet”. Great meadmakers brought in some of their best wares and shared with the group there. Altogether I think there was over 150 years of mead making experience. Flavors ran the gamut from straight mead, to cherry, to stout, to pineapple. I was delighted to be able to share and started to imagine new ideas for my next batch. I brought 2 bottles of the mead B and I made. One for the meet and greet, and one for sharing around the fire later. For my first mead it was well received and made me puff up like a bullfrog.

Monday marked my birthday and I delighted to be skipping around the camp celebrating the big Four-one. R had gotten me the sarong and huge Olive toned Herne tapestry (I bought the complement “Green Man” tapestry later). B gave me a copy of the mead makers hand book and later snuck in to the tent of massage therapist and prepaid the massage I wanted to get for myself. Quite the ninja move, I must say.

Tuesday, G and I found the Fairie Shrine at the opposite end of the camp. It was quite the walk around the ritual space of the turtle mound and the stone circle.

Later in the week, B took me back there and showed me some things I’d not noticed before. Gifts to the fairie included: CD’s, beads, string, shoes, statues, miniature houses, casts of hands, books, shells, drums, skins, money, and jewelry. B stood quietly as I made an offering of song to the shrine. I don’t sing in front of people, so to be able to share that with her, meant a lot to me.

On Wednesday, I went to a workshop in preparation for “the Hunt”. I wasn’t quite prepared for it, but I was willing to give it a try. I’ll try anything once. Twice if I think it’s fun. I felt priveledged to have been a “hunter”.

As an act of goodwill, R found some folks willing to help me with the hunt. the Ghetto Shamans agreed to come and aid me. One of their members had also signed on as a hunter. They had adopted me for the rest of the gathering. They also gave me a “weapon” for the Hunt that was deemed unbreakable.

I think I made some new friends. Certainly M counts as one. Perhaps S, B, P, M, and others count me as a new friend too.

The Hunt was the next evening (Thursday night) and proved to be quite the mental, physical, and spiritual challenge. I was painted up to look like a STAG and readied myself for the event. At the end I was scratched up, achy, and all my joints had swollen up to 3 times their regular size. After, I’d pieced together what had happened to me I went and explained to R who interpreted some of the experience.

Later, I went and related it to B and R who told me that my prey had “fought back”. B said that she didn’t recognize me after I’d emerged from the woods.

This was the only formal ritual that I attended and it turned out better than I expected. There was real magic in that night and everyone that participated what moved by what had happened. Oh, and the staff that I was given, that was supposed to be unbreakable, I shattered in two blows.

For all you Pratchett fans: One of the ritual areas was named Turtle Mound. Someone snuck in and placed a setting of four elephants and a flat circular atlas atop them. So, I refer to the Turtle Mound as Atuin. The week ended with many good bye’s and thank you’s. We said most of them Friday and loaded up the HMS Clampett Saturday morning. B saw us off and thanked us for coming to PSG. She was very sweet and generous. She always is.

We made it home without getting lost and enjoyed having the extra hour we’d gotten back traveling west. Unpacking went quickly and we all went to bed early that night. Sunday came again with no rain and good memories of a very magical week.