A Reminicent Entry

I have postponed writing so many times during this current adventure due to my complete lack of commitment to spending time on the computer. A dearth of high-speed internet has certainly contributed to this less than diligent approach to recounting my travels, but I must admit that I have been more attracted to living, than writing about it.
This being said, I am now in a perfectly banal suburb of Vancouver, with high-speed wireless (drool) and am finding myself reminiscing on some of the life-changing experiences fortune has delivered to me, and thought I'd might share a few here.
Where to begin.... from somewhere near the beginning seems appropriate.
After five days on the road, Yotam and I landed in the craziest festival in the Kootaneys; Shambhala. We entered this wonderland outside of Salmo, BC by traveling 6km down a dirt road finding at the end a scene of fantasy, debauchery and intestine-clenching bass lines. For six days we set up home with 12,000 [sic] of our closest friends, camping in a river valley nestled among tree-encrusted mountains. Never having been an adherent of the rave scene, this was quite the spectacle experience for me. People really and truly go all out at these things. Costumes, wigs, props, bizarre dance moves, nudity and, of course, a diverse array of substances graced the event in the highest of high fashion. All of this in the most fantastic and surreal of settings; a constructed labyrinth of stages, passageways, chill out zones and art installations all set in the splendor of the mountains.
Yotam and I gained admission at the cost of 3 days volunteer labor on the main stage. The Pagoda was an interesting looking stage, and was a lot of fun at help set up (we helped attach the lycra 'roofs' on all three stories of the structure fear of heights be damned). It was also an excellent remedy to the pent up energy we had from five days of travel.
After the mad hustle in Toronto to finance, prepare, pack and facilitate this journey these days of hedonistic relaxation and partying were exactly what the homeopath ordered. A little indulgence goes a long way.
From the swirling surreality of Shambhala, we headed into the secluded retreat of the East Shore (of Kootaney Lake, that is) our final destination... for the time being. If Shambhala was a welcomed collapse into the carefree, the East Shore was a conscientious campaign into the mountains and valleys of 'the inner'. Here I was seeking a spaciousness of self that I felt I could not find in the metro-patterns of home. And oh did I get what I was asking for...

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Part of trip: The Great Canadian Road Trip

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