I was there and had no clue what a roller-coaster ride that weekend would be. My phriends and I flew from Birmingham, AL to Burlington, picked up the rental car and headed towards Coventry through some of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever witnessed. We, being the "tech-savvy" type, had a GPS so we took lots of back roads to avoid the masses as well as take in the scenery. When we did catch up to the traffic we still had no idea of the condition of the grounds due to rain and were perfectly content listening to The Bunny and discussing what the band may play. When Mike came on and spoke of the cars being stuck in the mud, that no more cars would be allowed into the concert grounds and that we should turn around and go home my heart sank. I went from elation to despair in 9.6 seconds flat. My first words were "I didn't come from Alabama to Vermont to just turn around and go home. I'm NOT LEAVING!" We inched along for another hours or so and we saw the state troopers ahead turning people around. We had only one chance and that was to "Turn left at Albuquerque" so we did just that. I noticed an elderly couple sitting on their front porch watching the circus parade passing by and I jumped out of the car and asked them if we could camp in their yard. They said they had 20 acres and would open the land up to all that could fit on it. I began directing traffic telling each phan that they could camp here and that we were only 9 miles from the venue which was not bad considering the circumstances.

Everyone settled in for some much needed rest and discussions followed about if the band would still be playing or not. That was the the biggest showing of love and appreciation for the band by the phans in my opinion. Not that cars were abandoned on I-91 or that some walked as much as 25 miles to get there. It was that these acts were done by these dedicated loving people and nobody even knew if they band would be playing or not. All this effort for just the possibility to see Phish play? In a New York second! So day one was in the books and thankfully so. I've always been an early riser so naturally I was up by 6:00 a.m. which was a good 2 hours before the next tent was unzipped. We were camped right next to the home of the couple that had so graciously opened their hearts and property up to a pack of wild looking (some) strangers. I see the couple had set out some tables and had large urns of coffee and boxes of donuts. I asked how much for both and the man said "Is a dollar to much to ask?" I literally laughed out loud when I said "No I think that's pretty fair!" We talked for several hours that morning about a multitude of topics like religion, hunting, Phish, Vermont and Alabama. It turned out that the man was a non-denominational preacher and was one of the coolest, most kind-hearted people I had ever met in my (at that time 35 years). They quickly sold out of coffee and donuts once the masses started moving about and I decided to take up a collection for these fine people. About half of the folks camping gave something and I rounded up over $200.00 bucks and gave it to them. They did not want to accept it but I convinced them there was no way to give the money back to everyone so they relented.

As showtime approached, or at least the possibility of a show, we headed out early as we knew we had a good hike ahead of us. We only made it about 3/4 mile and found someone in a pick-up truck that was giving rides for $5.00/per head. Let me see...walk another 8 miles or $5.00? No brainer and thankfully I had to foresight to bring cash. We were dropped off about a mile from the venue, which was as close as a vehicle could get and seeing the large crowds of people started to really get excited and we felt that the show would go on after all. We headed toward the venue walking on clouds which eventually turned to mud. Oh My God the mud! I had only seen pictures of people dealing with that kind of mud at a concert. Woodstock. Based on photographic evidence this mud was every bit as bad if not worse. I watched several people sink their feet in with shoes on and pull out barefooted. The funny thing was that they would just laugh, say oh well and keep on trucking. Nothing was gonna stop these people! 30+ mile traffic jams, being told to go home by the band, cops turning them away, Boston Marathon distances to walk and stinking cow chip infused mud that could make Dr. Pol gag was mere stepping stones for the avid Phish phan! At the first sign of the stage I was back to the elation I had been feeling just prior to the emotional crash I took when Mike told me to go home. Sorry Mike, I've never been good at being told what to do

I'm not going to do a song by song breakdown as that's been done by many others that are far more eloquent at putting their emotions into words than I am. Let's just say my heart was in a blender and I wanted to cry, laugh, smile and be taken away all at the same time. I succeeded at all of that. I think everyone that was there did as well. I still get a lump in my throat when I think of that weekend and the miracles that took place, when I think of the passion, determination and tenacity of what makes up a Phish phan and when I think of the kindness of that elderly couple that took on a horde of freaks with a smile on their face and love in their hearts. I wish I could remember their names. I hope they enjoyed that weekend as much as I did. I hope the shirt I bought for the man fit and that he found it hanging on his door knob with my note of appreciation.

Peace