North Country Fair 2007

The North Country Fair is a music festival that takes place up near Driftpile, Alberta, about 4 hours north of Edmonton. Formerly held on a leased space up at Joussard, they finally moved onto their own land a couple of years ago. Because the main area is nestled in the bend of the river, we joke about how we're in Mother Nature's womb. (I swear, in aerial shots it looks like a science-book drawing of a woman's reproductive system...)



I started doing the programme for NCF way back in 2000, writing the bios. By 2002 I had inherited the gig lock, stock, and barrel, and it's something I start thinking about every year right about this time. In return for all my hard work, I get a pair of all-access passes to the fair each year. Unfortunately, I have only been able to make it to the Fair twice during my tenure as programme coordinator. There are always other commitments, or time or money constraints, or the planets aren't quite aligned right, and so sadly it looks like this year I'm skipping it again, as I've been given a wonderful opportunity to do graduation photos for the school Isaac's Daddy teaches at.

However, North Country Fair 2006 was indeed quite the adventure. I took with me my amazing friend Laura. We slept in the back of her 4-Runner, and brought with us nothing but rubber boots and cameras.




We meandered our way up, stopping to take pictures of everything from sloughs and ponds to logs and ditches. There is decidedly some of the most beautiful scenery in Alberta to be found between here and there if you're smart enough to keep your eyes peeled. I showed Laura my favourite camping spot (Sand Hills) and introduced her to my favourite lilies.

(Geekly, I know - who stops to admire an oversized puddle with rotting sticks, half-dead trees, and duckweed?) So my big sister is a biologist, and when I told her about it she responds: "...yeh, uh, I stop and listen for frogs - which I ID by latin name because I no longer remember the common names... and, given the time of year, I'd be staring intently at the water looking for tadpoles, which can be ID'd by mouth part formation, if one is so inclined to look, and frequently by size and coloration if it's late enough in the year. So, my luv, you're a mere pup when it comes to geekiness and ponds."

(OK, Danna. You win the geek competition.)


When we got on site, we had too many coolers and shared dark secrets that first night, then got up early the second day and ventured off with our cameras.



There was this stupid caterpillar... The caterpillar had climbed up some weed, and died. He was crispy but not deflated, perfectly plumply preserved. My sister says, "...there are some insect viruses and other assorted pathogens that cause their caterpillar hosts to do that because it makes the caterpillar more likely to be consumed and therefore the pathogen transmitted to another host. Sci fi is about 300 million years behind Ma Nature, the b*tch with the black sense of humour." (You definitely win the geek competition.)

There were these really cool black moths with blue and orange markings that my sister had nothing to say about (she's a herpetologist, not entymologist, and her factoids on creepy crawlies are sporadic.)


There was the little coffee can stove I fell instantly in love with and the orb weaver spider web full of water droplets with orb-shaped reflections. There were muddy toes and candy floss covered faces, hula-hoopers, the backflip kid, sleepers at the stage, painted faces, nasty poutine and nachos, a twilight fawn, and a ride in a kayak where a very excited Laura got to hear beavers slapping their tails on the water.



There was good music, bad music, amazing music, silly music, fun music... and Tanya Tagaq Gillis, who is unlike anything you've ever heard or seen. She does traditional Inuit throat singing with her cousins, but as a sometimes-soloist, teams up with a DJ and the result is techno, rocking, throbbing, mind-numbing... Indescribable. Go buy the CD. Go see her live. She epitomizes the idea of, if you're gonna do it, make it your own. Who ever knew throat singing would be a) danceable or b) sexy. (You may have heard her Bzz Bzz song on a commercial before...)


All this, and the heady scent of bug spray and campfires.


The ride home was sombre. It was a bittersweet departure, and on the way home we stopped to play in a sandy pit before returning to Edmonton, tired and happy.


I'm very sad I won't be able to go with Laura this year. She needs a date, though, since she's got dibs on the passes. Anyone care to join her?

Comments

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

Unless otherwise noted, writing and watermarked images on this blog are copyrighted to Hope Walls.