Fantastic write-up. For me, this weekend was about people. I hadn't planned on going because I didn't have enough money to pay the inflated prices that I was seeing. After a conversation with my father who said, "If I were you, at your age [26 at the time], with no attachments or responsibilities [had just graduated college...finally and was moving to CO in a few weeks], nothing would stop me from going up there, ticket or no.". So, I took one last look at craigslist and found a posting from a girl in Cambridge, MA. She didn't list the price. I called her and she asked face-value for the ticket. So, I drove down and grabbed it. Maybe it was because I waited so long, but I felt so lucky right then.
I went alone. It was going to be my last Phish experience ever, and I didn't have anyone I knew that was going. I heard Mike's message on the radio while I was on the highway (super close to the exit), and sat there for about 30 more minutes, wondering what to do. Up ahead was one of the highway turnarounds used by "Emergency Vehicles Only". So I turned around.
I took the next exit off of the highway, used a map to navigate in the general direction of the venue, and eventually found a line of cars, slowly moving. Shortly, I found a little grocery store and parked to see if I could find a sneakier way. I looked at the map and it appeared to me that this may be as good a spot as any to park & walk. It was no trouble convincing the owner of the store to take $30 to park for the weekend. As I was gathering up my essentials, others started parking there. This guy (and a bunch of other business owners) must have made a good amount of money from parking. I filled my backpack with some food, beer and ice (this was a terrible idea. never do this!), put some clothes in a trash bag, and strapped my tent, sleeping bag and sleeping pad to the pack. This thing was heavy! As I walked the 12 or so miles to the venue, it was at times (to steal a reference from another poster above) like a scene out of The Walking Dead...except that while people making this difficult trek, they were having a pretty good time meeting the people on the road and listening to their stories. There were people helping out too, still by their cars, offering food and water to walkers. I'd walk with one group for a while then stop and meet other folks. Then I'd walk with them for a while.
Somewhere along the line, the weight of the pack (and perhaps my out-of-shapeness) had an impact on my ability to walk. I had come down with Plantar fasciitis. So, I limped the rest of the way, a good 4-6 miles.
By the time I arrived at the entrance, I was exhausted and in pain. I sat down next to a group of people and started chatting. Well, they had something I needed and I had something they needed. This group took me in for the weekend. They helped me limp to/from the medical tent, the venue, etc. They offered me food and, ah...something for the pain.
There was music. There were stretches of fantastic music. There were also a lot of moments where I cringed. The "Wading in a Velvet Sea" may be something that someone who never went to the show would never want to listen to, but I listen to remember. I listen to remember what I felt made this festival special: People getting together to help each other say goodbye. I'm not sure that a dry eye existed in the venue when Page & Trey attempted to sing that song. Similarly, every time I listen to any version of "The Curtain With", I am brought back to Coventry and the mix of melancholy and privileged feelings that, while it would be the last song I see/hear Phish play live, I was there.
The walk out was far more like the "Walking Dead" than the walk in. It was all over. Phish was over, I had an injured foot, 12 miles to hike. At least the pack was lighter by 30 beers & ice. A few miles in, I found a pickup truck that was, well, picking people up and bringing them to their cars. It was then I realized I didn't know how to get back to my car. All I did was say it was at a grocery store and there was a liquor store across the street. He knew and dropped me there.
This was not the best experience of my life, but it was an experience that I'm glad I had. I am grateful for all the times that I get to see my favorite band play. I am grateful to the multitudes of people who make each experience uniquely amazing. I'll keep going to see this band as long as they play and I'm around to see them.