The morning of Wednesday the ninth I went through my usual morning routine and showed up at school at around the same time as usual. The only difference is that along with my usual bag I had a duffel containing a few sets of clothes, a sleeping bag, and some ablutionary accessories. For, you see, Wednesday morning I departed for the annual NCACS conference (and the second that I've been to), this year to be held in Paoli, Indiana.
We got onto the road at around eleven, right on schedule. There were less people attending from my school this year and thus we had only rented two vans, rather than an entire greyhound bus like last year. My van was named "Betty," the other, "Roy." Roy ran into immediate problems, and so our first stop after leaving was at the rental place to trade Roy in for a working van.
We drove on and on and on. To amuse myself between gas station and food stops, I decided to play a game with myself. At each stop, I'd buy one or two energy drinks that I'd never had before, and see how they rated in terms of taste and effectiveness. Since as a rule I am a coffee and tea person, and think that energy drinks are foul, I thought it could well expand my energy-source horizons. The end results of this grand experiment might well make a post for another time. Suffice it to say that I'm mildly surprised and maybe a little disappointed I'm still alive after pouring so much muck into myself (at one point I had the caffeine/taurine/sugar equivalent of four consecutive Red Bulls and then took a nap), and that I don't plan on switching away from whatever I end up brewing in the morning.
We stopped for the night in Ohio, more or less directly on OSU's campus. A friend of a friend of one of the chaperone's owns a tanning salon, and it was in the lobby of that tanning salon that we slept in. I foolishly decided that, since it was rather warm in the lobby, I had found a reasonably comfy rug, and one can never come off as too manly, that it wouldn't be worth the trouble of fetching my sleeping bag from the van. Naturally, at some point during the night it became evident that I had picked a spot directly under the air conditioning vents and the temperature dropped thirty or so degrees. I spent the night curled in the fetal position, alternatively cursing the heavens and lapsing into unconsciousness. At six-thirty we were awoken by someone's cellphone blaring "Eye of the Tiger" as his mother tried to reach him.
Again we drove on and on and on. I drank more energy drinks, we stopped for food, we played more Mad Libs than a sane person could possibly stand, music was listened to. Most notably the epic tale of "Piano Man" got started. I don't clearly recall how it started out, but my friend Fingers and I began to sing it. We decided to go through and write down the lyrics so we could be more effective, a feat that only took fifteen or twenty minutes but the effects of which shall be felt for a lifetime. Fingers isn't much of a singer, and neither am I, but after a couple of times we began hitting the same key more often than not. More than that, as we learned the song, we planted the seeds of obsession in the heads of everyone else in the van.
After a minimal amount of wrong turns and choruses of "are you sure you know where you're going?", we arrived at Lazy Black Bear Farm, where this year's conference was held. The first thing we say driving up were chickens running amidst the underbrush. I didn't know then and I don't know now whether that was a good sign or not. Driving further into the property, it was clear enough that it was going to be a place more unlike what I've seen before, even compared to last year's in Tennessee. The architecture was not unexpected, being half-ramshackle and employing lots of found objects. Everything was designed to complement or accommodate nature rather than go against it.
The vans were parked and people begun erecting tents. I had more or less defaulted into being in the same tent as a teacher and two proto-teachers. Our tent was magnificent; an eight-person tent, it held only four and was thus quite pleasingly spacious. It could have held any other tent in the campground easily. We dubbed it "Waffle Manor." The original intention was "Waffle Shack," but as the sign was being made, I leapt to the conclusion that it was to be "Wayne Manor." Thus a compromise was reached. The jealousy was clear and obvious among the other campers, and a minor rivalry developed between the Waffle Manor and the so-called "Pancake Palace."
We milled around, ate dinner, and went to the first night orientation. All that really happened there was a guy stood up and talked a little bit about this year's conference theme: biocracy.
- Biocracy
- A form of governance in which all life has participation; a concept that recognizes nature as the force regulating the physical universe.
Now, I am not a hippie. I think things like sustainable use are great. I'm genuinely afraid of what the large corporations are doing to this planet. Global warming freaked me out before I saw
An Inconvenient Truth. When it comes time for me to buy a car, I'm planning on getting a hybrid or electric if at all possible. I worry about conserving energy. I use unscented hygiene products. Nevertheless, I am not a hippie. I felt out of place at times. I like plumbing, and hot water, and bug spray. I am more than willing to sacrifice a little bit of nature-friendlness in exchange for convenience and/or comfort.
Solar showers blow. That's my main point here. The first day it was overcast out, so I waited until late afternoon for my shower. It was frigid, completely intolerable. I stayed long enough to get the topmost layer of gross off and got out. The next day was sunny and I waited until around eleven, when they ought to have warmed up. It wasn't as cold and I was able to tolerate it for around two minutes, when the slightly-less-than-freezing water ran out. It was miserable. I ended up standing out during the rain to feel better. How I longed to be home and in my shower. Sure, it randomly cuts between blisteringly hot and gaspingly cold, but at least there's variety, and it averages out to a pleasant temperature. Thinking to the moment when I could get into a real shower became a sustaining thought.
The conference this year was smaller than last year. My school was represented in greatest force. Most of the other schools that were there last year were also there this year, and the same school got kicked out before the conference was over for the same reasons. My school was also probably the most recognizable, if only because of our resemblance to a traveling circus. I'm not joking. Everywhere we go, we bring hula-hoopers and jugglers and other kinetically-inclined sorts of things. I'm in the juggling crowd, although I did discover on this trip that I can hula-hoop too. I'm gifted that way, and I contribute where I can.
On that note, one of the highlights of the conference was definitely the talent show. A bunch of my friends went up, to sing or play guitar or juggle or what have you. Other people did, too, most notably to tell an impromptu story that was really quite entertaining. Fingers and I and a few other people ended up going up to sing "Piano Man," and it was epic. Maybe we weren't the most talented singers to go on stage that night (although we definitely were better than some of the other people), but we were for sure the most enthusiastic. I got my friend Audrey to
take a video with my camera for me, so that the joy could be shared with more people. Later on Fingers and I realized that we need to sing for this year's Sonic Yearbook, so we're going to try and record some time next week.
I didn't go to any of the workshops at the conference last year and it was the same this year. There were two workshops that sounded interesting. One was on identifying edible flora in the wild, for survival and suchlike, and the other was just called "acoustic workshop." I figured the acoustic workshop would probably just be kids showing up and I was too apathetic to show up to the flora one. Looking back at it I kind of wish I had bothered, but hey, there's no telling how different the wildlife is between here and Indiana. It might have ended up being irrelevant or even dangerously misleading.
One of the greatest things about really any trip is getting to know people better and getting to meet new people. Given that I'm an introvert, it's always been the first thing that's been the greatest aspect of an extended trip. I did see my friend Carae that I met last year. She lives in Tennessee so the next time I see her will probably be at next year's conference. Getting to know people better is awesome though. You generally don't get to choose which people they are but I've never regretted it. Being stuck all confined like that will either drive you pretty close together or make you hate each other but I was lucky enough not to end up hating anyone.
I managed to go nearly the entire trip without any great mishap. I avoided leeches, bears, three kinds of ticks, fleas, coyotes, dogs, spiders, mosquitos, chickens, water snakes, and horseflies. I did get scratched by a cat, but cats are jerks. Then, after our van arrived back at school, and I'm walking to get into my own car so I can go home and take that wonderful warm shower, one of my boot laces hooks onto the other boot and I go down on the three feet of gravel between the grass and the car. I took bits of flesh out of my hands and knees. My shower was warm and horrible as I had to clean my wounds. That which I had waited so long for… Spoiled. It was a priceless moment.
Labels: pictures, pretension
