A week ago (well, on this date, but I write this a week after the fact) we were encamped with 10 000 of our closest friends. That number would grow to twice that by the next day. At a music festival, ever since Woodstock (which was way before my time), everyone’s your friend. Or worst enemy. For better or worse, we took our chances.
The idea was a hatched the day after the festival itself was announced back in the early spring, and I heard that Coldplay was going to headline. It didn’t matter who else would be playing – for me, Chris Martin et al. were my primary goal. A band you have to see at least once before you die. And so I dropped significant earnings for four three day festival tix and camping on the site.
Boys’ weekend out, just me and the three kidlets. And the Element, fully loaded up with gear, and the torpedo up high.
The drive took us through to Kamloops, and then down Hwy. 99 to Cache Creek and Lillooet before hitting Pemberton. This is some mighty fine highway, and one of the most scenic. I’d been up to Pemberton once before, but never down 99. So this was all new for me.
Our plan was to get as close to Pemberton as possible, and certainly within striking distance for the next day. This idea got us to within an hour of Pem, and we camped at a closed forestry site by a raging river.
And no, that’s not a beer in C’s hand.