One day as I was doing some dishes at work I thought to myself “Man, I sure would love to dance barefoot to some psytrance with some hippies in a moonlit meadow or perhaps a dusty clearing” A few days later I remembered about Salmonstock and realized that there was a good chance of that happening (minus the psytrance unfortunately). Salmonstock music festival is an Alaskan version of Woodstock that focuses on raising awareness about environmental issues in Alaska.I had known about Salmonstock for a couple of months at that point, but I had sort of pushed to the back of my mind. I was thinking of going, yet I didn’t really want to spend the money and eat up my 3 day birthday weekend that I was going to go backpacking on. However, it felt right and I even had a ride down there (to Ninilchik, about 30 minutes from Homer) with coworkers, so I went.
photo credit salmonstock.org
I knew ahead of time it would be an interesting experience for me. On one hand I would fit in because I very much appreciate many aspects of hippie culture. On the other hand, I knew that there would be copious amounts of booze, weed, and other psychoactive substances. I also knew my friends would be into that too. That doesn’t scare me or make me judgmental, but I’m not into that scene. Furthermore, given these circumstances, I knew this would be a great place to spread the love of Jesus, which I was excited about but also admittedly a bit apprehensive because I wasn’t sure what it would be like. Uncertainty, though, is one of the defining marks of adventure.
We took off Friday evening and arrived in Ninilchik at 1 am or so. It took us a bit to find a campsite because it was dark and there were already like a billion tents and cars everywhere, but we eventually got it done. We were greeted by a heavily bearded and heavily intoxicated man who was apparently in a local band that wasn’t playing. He kept complaining about how the promoters pay out of state bands lots but rip off local bands. I said something like, “I love you bro, give me a hug.” and he gave me a hug, and continued giving me that hug for the next 30 minutes as he rambled on about his band, War and Peace, and other random things. I didn’t really mind though; I guess I was distracting him from bothering people who would mind. After we were finished chatting with strangers and I sent the dude on his way we all packed into a big tent for a night uncomfortable sleep (for me anyways). It was mad cramped and one of my friends snores like a grizzly bear.
The next morning I woke up before everyone else (as I tend to do in these situations) and got up to wander about, not in the best spirits. I knew that I was not going to spend this next night like this, so I surveyed the place for a campsite where I could set up my own tent. After wandering around a bit, getting some coffee from the local gas station, and unsuccessfully trying to set up in the woods behind the camping area I found a spot. Before I found my spot and was in the backwoods, I realized just how bad the allergens were in that area, I was dying (which is why I couldn’t camp there). On the bright side, I did find an amanita muscaria or Fly Agaric mushroom, which is like the holy grail of mushrooms for me. Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t value it for its hallucinogenic properties, but I think it’s so cool and enchanted looking (red with white specks). Though I would be lying if the thought of taking a big bite out of it didn’t cross my mind; despite the fact that I haven’t taken any mind-altering substances for about 5 years, I’m not beyond being tempted. Anyways, after setting up camp I went back to regroup with my friends and we went to the store and got some benadryl for the brutal hay fever.
We headed to the actual festival grounds, across the highway from the campsite, and waited for it to open up. I thought about volunteering to get in for free, but there were no slots, which was good because I would’ve been stuck working instead of doing my thing. The first thing I noticed was the countless food carts in there. I started at the Boombai Thai cart that is actually based in Seward. Interestingly enough I ran into Solomon, the guy who picked me up on my way to Homer. I felt like I was supposed to meet him again, so I thanked him for his kind heart of generosity and told him that Jesus loves him. I didn’t talk to him too much though because he was busy working. I then went and sat on the grass to eat my pad thai and listen to “The Shoot Dangs”. They were alright, not entirely my thing because I’m an electro junkie, but I enjoyed them enough. I even danced a bit with a couple of my coworkers, but I don’t know how to dance much (with the exception to some rave genres) so it was short lived. Somewhere around that time I went and got a tamale that was mediocre.
I went and wandered around a bit and met a woman from Anchorage who jacked up her leg windsurfing. I talked to her for a bit and prayed for her leg. When I asked her how it felt, she said “happy”. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but it sounds good. I then made a detour to the gas station and got a Nos and talked to a young guy. I saw this guy earlier and he really caught my attention, not for any particular reason, just an inward vibe that I was supposed to talk to him. He was a 16 year old living in Homer who was from Texas. He seemed heavily into drugs, using and selling. He wasn’t a tweaker or anything, but he was pretty swallowed up in drug culture. I told him about some of my drug use, spiritual experiences that felt like drugs but were meaningful and healthy, and tried to inform about the problems drugs cause. He didn’t seem too interested but he was willing to listen and discuss the issue anyways. We parted ways and I, being the Bilbo Baggins adventurer that I am, went had my 3rd lunch, which was a delicious falafel.
Feeling fat and bloated, I laid down on the grass and listened to a band called Deadhorse Highway who were from Portland — they were alright. I just sat there in the sunlight and people watched. There were a lot of cute hippie girls with hairy armpits spinning hula hoops and such. The first time I saw a woman with hairy armpits (about a year earlier) I was a little taken aback, but it doesn’t really bother me anymore. I eventually went and danced with one of those hippie girls, basically holding hands and jumping and swinging around (I guess that’s how you dance to that kind of music). I told her she was awesome and she gave me a big hug; I later found out she was in The Super Saturated Sugar Strings. I was reluctant at first to dance because I thought “Man, this isn’t my scene, I don’t listen to this kind of music”, but I eventually put my genre snobbery behind, got over myself, and decided to participate. Yeah, it’s not really my scene, but it was fun anyways. Other people were dancing hilariously too. Some older people were just going hard. At first I thought “wow you look so ridiculous” but then I was thinking “Yeah, I do half of the time too, it doesn’t even matter, we’re all having fun, do your thing.”That’s what I love about these types of places: you can be ridiculous and the majority of people don’t care — they may laugh or whatever but it’s all in good fun, people aren’t too judgmental. I hope I stay like that when I’m old. It reminds me of a time a few years back when I saw a 40+ guy at an Infected Mushroom concert in Phoenix just going to town with his glowsticks — he probably was in a cubicle 2 hours earlier, I love that guy!
I took a break from the music and wandered around to talk and pray with people. Part of me wanted to and part of me was not into it, but the Lord was telling me to keep at it. I struck up a few conversations that petered out pretty fast, prayed for some people with injuries, and then went and bought a big bag of saltwater taffy and gave it away to strangers. After a while I just was stressed and couldn’t handle the crowd and noise anymore so I wandered off to my tent and then to get some food. After I calmed down and got into better spirits I went back to the grounds and watched The Super Saturated Sugar Strings –at about 8 or so. I regrouped with my friends and wandered around with them a bit. They were fairly drunk at this point, but I was feeling pretty stoned on the Lord so it was okay . In fact, one of my friends and I were just sort of acting goofy together and high fiving strangers and stuff; it was sort of an interesting situation haha. One hippie-ish guy gave me a hug for my birthday — one of the best hugs I’ve ever gotten (I got a lot of good hugs that day in general).
While we were high fiving people and stuff this one guy walked by and was talking about mushrooms or something and I put my hand on his shoulder and said “Jesus thinks you’re amazing bro”. A bit later, he asked, “So what brings up Jesus?” I’m not quite sure what I said, something like “He’s awesome man, it’s all about Him.” He said how he went to a Christian program at one time . He said something like “I’m a sinner, but the Lord knows my heart.” I said something like, “I mess up too bro, but it’s not an excuse to make a habit of it.” “I know it’s no excuse but nothing ever changes.” Oh, that stung my heart on his behalf. Man, I wanted to help that guy out, but he changed the subject quickly and walked off before too long.
After a little more wandering with my friends, I wandered off by myself to watch the headliner, Ozomatli, and some fire dancers. I offered this other dude a spiritual high and explained it to him about the presence of God and the Holy Spirit while we were waiting for the band to play. He said he wasn’t ready for that and his friend looked at me like I was some sort of freak lol. The band finally played and they were alright, not really my style, but talented, lively, and creative all the same. What I was really waiting for was the rave that was rumored to go down that night. After Ozomotli I made my way to where the rave was taking place and jammed there for a little bit. It started out decent, playing mostly house music, but after an hour or so it devolved to top 40 type crap. It was funny seeing people at a rave wearing Xtra -Tuffs though, knee-high, brown and tan neoprene boots that are common in Alaska; I can’t really talk though because I was wearing jorts and hunting boots.
All partied out, I went back to camp and cooked some of my halibut filets over a campfire and hung out with my friends and some other people. All said and done, I crashed at about 3 am or so. The next day I hitchhiked home and did pretty well on rides. I met some cool people and had some good talks too. All in all, it was a pretty good birthday weekend.
Pilgrim's Map 