My favorite time at Faire was around 4 or 5 in the morning when our Dragon Gate crew chief would let me and my friend, Kassandra, the elders of our crew, go early and we would wander slowly together through the remnants of last night’s frolic while the first birds sang and the trees seemed to yawn and stretch in preparation for the coming day.
My first trips to the Oregon Country Fair were as a visitor. Visitors bought tickets and turned them in for visitor wristbands which allowed us through the Dragon Gate until 7:00. Until that time, we were all free to wander the 8 with copies of the Peach Pit clutched in our hot little hands.
What is the 8, you might ask. The major trails at the Oregon Country Fair are laid out in a Figure 8. For a long time, I thought there was a hill that ran down from the Dragon Gate to the Main Stage. But when I said something about running all the way down the hill to catch a band, I was told there was no hill. Just me being tired after dancing at Main Stage and making my way to the exit?
My memories of those days are fuzzy. I think I first went with my boyfriend, Richard Lee (now my favorite ex). He had a station wagon, we brought camping gear, and for the most part stayed at the Darling Ranch, locals who opened their land to OCF visitors. I know we brought the girls at least once – the girls being my daughter Caroline and her bestie Jamie. Might have been one or two others. On one trip, Caroline and I went shopping for a drum.
Buying stacks of salmon burgers from Chez Ray’s Gritz la Ritz to take back to folks at the Darling’s. Being blessed by a trio of didgereedoos. Watching Kip Schisler knapping flint at the 10,000 B.C. site. Seeing an amazing tie-dye colored velvet cloak, priced way over my head, that I decided my children could someday buy to bury me in. (This has not happened.) In later years, I bought a great dress, hand-made brooms, hot pads, and a beautiful summer quilt that is on my bed at this very moment. Spotting Baby Gramps busking and my friend Viv leading the Dragon Dance that wound throughout the 8. A wedding party on stilts. There were so many people on stilts at the Fair that seats were made for them along the top of the fences that marked off one site from another. Wheel chairs disguised as Lazy Boys. A bicycle-powered rickshaw. White Dove Medical. Tarot readers and massage parlors. Food and earrings and lanterns made from tin cans. Kailoscopes and rainsticks. Walking the 8 you can get nearly everything you might never have known you needed.
Do it all before the witching hour of 7 P.M when the fair turns into Faire, a playground for the folks who have catered to visitors all day long and are now let loose to live and play in a kingdom they have all created. There are special bands on the Mainstage and musicians who had populated all the other stages throughout the day are free to perform where and when they will. The watchword is creativity as they don costumes and masks and facepaint, bring out all their best psychedelics, and dance the Eight from dusk to dawn.
To be Fair about it, I am informed by my personal Tech Bro/Fair Folk that referring to Faire or Faire Folk is frowned upon in some quarters. A little too twee, prehaps? I suppose. But when I first saw it spelled that way I loved it. And I'm not entirely alone. So in my mind, Fair After Dark becomes Faire. On we go ...
After 7:00, only Faire Folk who had come to Faire – those who worked in some capacity, those who have constructed this magical kingdom or family thereof - were allowed through the Dragon Gate. Decon Deke who worked on the Deconstruction Crew when the weekend was over. Kelly who worked on the Recycling Crew. Lisa who worked for Gritz la Ritz. And for a few magical years, I was one of those who checked the wristbands of those who wished to enter. I had joined Dragon Gate Security and had finally come to Faire.
I owe my admission to my dear friend Marisande who invited me along as her S.O. one year. Marisande had long been “inside” Faire, as a worker at Main Camp (administration?). I don’t remember what she did there, but no doubt something organizational. Marisande was a whiz at organizing. I was allowed to pitch my tent with Marisande’s friends there (they did something with supplying lanterns to crews, I think?), while she built a bower in the undergrowth that bordered their space. And at the magical hour when the Oregon Country Fair turned into FAIRE, I joined the Sweep.
(Marisande will probably dislike the word Faire.)
The Sweep is a process by which folks eligible to attend Faire begin at one end of the Eight, hold hands in a horizontal line, and sweep forward encouraging all day visitors to vacate the premises, sweeping them before us. There are stories of those successfully avoiding the sweep that range from hiding in a friend’s booth (highly discouraged, two friends of mine were kicked out of Faire for doing so) to submerging in the river. I’ve seen “I Survived The Sweep” t-shirts showing guys with blunderbusses routing out all the hippies in the bushes. I’ve had friends who hid with other friends inside Faire camp. I didn’t join The Sweep because I cared about getting people out. I joined because, as an S.O., I had nothing to do to help. So joining The Sweep made me feel like I was part of Faire.
And then it turned that out a bunch of folks I knew from Seattle Hempfest had the midnight to 6 a.m. shift at the Main Gate, where the Dragon ruled over all who came and went. I was added to the crew which came with parking and camping privileges. Not that the parking area was anywhere near our crew’s camping area, but I was still youngish (50’s – 60’s, I believe) and, with a little help from my friends, hauled my gear up the hill (a real hill, this time) and set up. Midnight to 6 was a good time for me. I am a late riser and I don’t like heat or crowds, so avoiding the fair for most of the day I was able to roam wherever I liked for hours before my shift began.
I loved watching the magic happen as darkness fell. When drum circles started up, laser light shows appeared in the trees, and Faire Folk of all shapes and colors danced by. Music drifted up from the Main Stage as I drifted out to the Dragon Gate, all ready now to allow more Faire Folk in for the late night revels.
Our job was checking wrist bands, which we did by slipping a finger under them and giving a little tug. The theory was that real wristbands were securely fastened, while those that folks had tried to simulate were a little flimsy. There were several more entries to the Fair, and while I would stop someone who didn’t belong, I wished everyone well who tried and succeeded. My theory was that if you belonged in Faire, then Faire would let you in.
There were maybe 5 or 6 or us at the main Dragon Gate, and as the hours crept past and there were more people going than coming, we kept each other awake and laughing with stories of other fairs and things we’d seen. But when the sky turned a lighter shade of dark and we could hear a cheep or two from the trees, our crew chief told Kassandra and I we could go. We were the crones of the crew. The little old ladies who would turn up for anything to be part of Faire, and who deserved a break. That’s when Kassandra and I became a little more than crewmates as we wandered the length of the 8 (our crew campground was on the far side). We became friends. The sky, visible only as a narrow ribbon that ran between the tree tops over looking the dusty path, turned a lighter shade of gray while we wandered along, sharing thoughts and experiences and listening to the early birds beginning to talk among themselves. Then, just before the exit to the campgrounds I might say good night to Kassandra and betake myself to the Ritz for a shower.
The Ritz was an open air shower complex with hot and cold running water and a sauna. During the day, a pianist played for those who chose to lounge around, clothes optional, and listen. The heat was supplied by a big wood-fueled furnace that was kept running 24 hours a day. I always felt for that crew. They were truly heroes. This part of Oregon can get hot in this, the very middle of summer, when Faire takes place. As a crew member, I had access to the big room of gang showers that was open to the sky. Very often, in the early morning, I had the place to myself. Standing open under the sky while the shower washed away the dust of the day left me ready to sleep the day away when I climbed at last into my sleeping bag. Grateful to be able to count myself among the Faire Folk.