Despite the unbearable heat wave throughout the afternoons

despite the untraceable body odor lingering throughout the crowds

and inescapable wafts of marijuana

and some mysterious skunk stench that came and went as surprisingly as the breeze

despite the lousy organizational skills from the FreePress camp

despite the pain in your ass, literally, from sitting at a hard angle on a hill

despite a rain scare on Sunday

despite crazies on acid frolicking around

Yes, despite all the adversities, we managed to have a hell of a time on top of that hill. And for two memorable days in August, we sat together and watched some amazing performances take place on that small stage.

I walked away that night feeling satisfied and kind of sad because the weekend was over too soon. But it made me feel better when I thought about Ro’s stupid joke, “maybe we’ll mend our circle of friend’s broken social scene.” Well, it was something to remember for sure.

A snow explosion during their performance of A Sentence of Sorts in Kongsvinger. [The camera shaking that you notice and absolutely hate at the moment is me having difficulties viedotaping and balancing on a slippery hillside]