bitterdiva

August 22, 2004

Belgium and mofos go to Cooperstown

Kris and I traveled down to Cooperstown yesterday for the Belgium festival. The day started off inauspiciously with torrential rains from Friday evening until Saturday morning. I was anticipating arriving at the festival and being told to turn around and go home, probably the karma of the weekend past still hovering over the capital region.

We arrived safely in Cooperstown with directions updated on Ommegang's website, taking you directly past Cooperstown Brewery. Perhaps it was merely the numerous complaints of the poorly directed and ornary brewery-goers that prompted the change. Regardless, our travels were made without incident and despite some miscommunication in respect to parking areas we found and made camp.

Two weekends ago, my brother gave the overall importance of camping, what to do, how to do it, including some do's and don'ts. Thankfully for his advice and the previous experience of Kristian, setting up camp was hassle free. Well, almost anyway, there was the issue of the bottom tarp not being wide enough for the tent but twice as long, we improvised and on the next purchase of the tarp, I know what to look for.

A glance upwards to the sky squashed any fears of impending rain, the dark grey clouds were quickly moving past and fluffier, peaceful clouds were moving in. The overhead tarp was not needed, which cut down some more time to when drinking could commence.

The festival was decently sized, with 34 breweries and distributors stationed under one large tent. Some of the sampled beers were: Shelton Brothers' Flemish Primitive Wild Ale, Allagash's Tripel, Applachian's Grand Cru, Bullfrog's Wit, Corsendonk Pale Ale (with a complimentary Corsendonk pen!), Dogfish's Festina Lente, Iron Hill's Kriek, North Coast's PranQster, Russian River's Damnation, Unibroue's Terrible & Quelque Chose, and of course Ommegang's Three Philosopher's. I hadn't thought that I had sampled a lot of beers, but in the little time that I was under the tent, 12 beers is a decent amount and I can't say I didn't get my $20 worth.

One of my greatest worries as a female, is the ordeal of urination. I believe that's my greatest concern in life, especially in places where I am not familiar. The gauntlet for me was the mastering of the port-o-potty squat. I will take the higher road on this leg of the journey and go no further with much relief of the unwanted mental imagery I could conjure up. Grateful to Ommegang, their bathrooms remained open up until I wandered off to bed around 10:00.

Complaints, there were few. Top of the list was the line for food, who on Ommengang's 136-acre former hop farm thought it would be a marvelous idea to have the food queue continue off into the beer tent? It did make it easy for a two-person team beer drinking queue event - with one remaining in line whilst the other ran off for more samples. An hour's wait made us more appreciative of our food, even if it was bratwurst boiled in Ommegang's witte then grilled. The veggie chili ran out along with the quiche for the moment by the time we arrived at the ordering station.

After the breweries packed up and departed, Ommegang kept pouring until 2am, well after the point I attempted to go to bed. The evening was capped with an oakwood pallete bonfire warm enough to stave off the frosty air and to create a family reunion atmosphere of all the festival goers. Judging by the pictures, it was Kris and I favorite event. There is something magical about the bonfire, drawing out the primitive spirits dwelling in humans. It has been ingrained in our race for thousands of years, it connects each of us in a spiritual sense that most people have forgotten about, especially without the use of alcohol or other mind enhancing agents.

As I departed from the bonfire towards our tent, I was looking forward to the sound of crickets lulling me off to sleep with their orchestra. The lack of light pollution enabled a sight that I haven't seen for years, thousands of twinkling stars shining down upon us. It was imagery that I wished could be captioned through optical devices, but could only be enjoyed with one's two eyes. My breath visibly escaped my body as I exhaled the exhaustion of the day. Like the vikings, I was ready to conquor sleep.

Festival goers remained in full action, partying like I haven't seen before. People up on the hills yelling to the other participants to enjoy a campfire but only if they brought beer. There was the sounding of intimate couples, of music, the crackles of the fire,and other general debauchery. I shivered. For five hours I shivered incessantly, three of those with another warm body next to me. Alas, I realized around three the necessity to dress and march along in the cold air, on the damp ground to the port-o-potties. It was beginning to grow calm on the festival grounds, as the fog swirled and danced along the air. I finally fell asleep to only awake four hours later, somewhat revived and anxious to return home.

The morning was just as magical, the sun attempted to burn away the evening's dew. If it wasn't for the cars, I would have thought I had awoke in the 14th century a medieval warrior sore from the evenings festivities. All in all, I enjoyed my first camping experience, and I look forward to doing it again, perhaps a little more wiser in my preparations.