Woodstock wrap-up OR The grass from the other side (is greener)

Speedway meadow: we didn’t know exactly where it was, but the early morning haze of of backlit smoke that floated its way through the trees and across the street gave us a pretty good clue of our intended destination.  As it turned out, the aforementioned smoke had a delightful barbeque aroma to it. What kind of smoke did you think I was talking about?

…a short while later…

As I muddled about, still processing the fact that I was backstage with all the performers, Hendrix licks reached my ready ears. This was an organized mini-event coinciding with the 40^th anniversary Woodstock West Fest in which 3000 guitarists were attempting a world record Hendrix event. Leading up to the event, I had developed worries that everyone would be plugged in and out of both tune and rhythm; however, those who knew what they were doing (including Leon Hendrix, Riki Hendrix, and Vernon Ice Black) led the performance. At this point, I came to the realization that I was allowed in the photo pit! And thus, photo-taking ensued.

I don't think the patient readers need a play by play, so let me allow you in on some of the more entertaining stories from the day:

1) A woman got excited when she saw that I had a camera and a VIP pass and asked if I was a young rock photographer. In a crowd of musicians from Woodstock, I figured the term "young" was relative, so I agreed. My buddy, 3 years my senior, walked up and she asked if he was my dad and thought it was so cool that we could share this experience. He's still hearing about that comment.... She was supposed to introduce me to a Rolling Stone photographer, but we could never find her again.

2) Another woman was discussing the lack of paranoia she feels when on marijuana and pointed out the pinhole effects of her eyes thanks to a little acid. Mid-sentence in a statement about not being paranoid, she points at the sky and starts cursing about how they're doing it again. She goes off about the government spraying us with chemicals, how they would, of course, do it on the day that all the hippies were outside, that her friend had put a tarp out overnight only to find metallic dust on it in the morning, etc.  ---------- We looked, she was pointing at contrails. Sometimes, it's hard to keep a straight face when talking to people.

3) Midway through the morning, I noticed that my friend, Oona, was playing on the Rock the Bike stage. Determined to find said stage, we asked security, musicians, other VIPs, and assorted hippies. No one knew and her set time was getting closer. We ended up finding it just in time, where I made a new fan out of Scott and we both took way too many pictures. Why is it called the Rock the Bike stage? This particular stage was powered by five or six bicycles, so audience members had to take turns exercising if we wanted the band to be amplified. I took a brief turn on a bike while shooting photos, but an injured knee, unsteady camera, and an awkward situation involving a tripod strapped to my back and the book rack on the back of the bicycle cut my exercise short. For those checking out Oona, my favorite song is "Next Queen of Belgium"

No question about it, West Fest made for a memorable day. If only it were two days...or three....or monthly. The day wrapped up with a brief handing down of photography knowledge. You know me: I'm all about sharing what I have or know. A photographer friend that's new to the game was picking my brain and I did a quick demonstration of the "Rule of Thirds". I didn't even pay attention to what I was shooting, but the result was one of my favorites of the day. It nicely sums everything up: Music is timeless,  the festival brought contentment, and sometimes one needs to improvise to find a way to relax.

LOTS more pics here