There were five of us for TRF this year: myself, Mike (AKA "The RenGeek") and Pam, our neighbor -- Linda -- from across the street and Kyleigh, who flew in from Wichita Falls just for this weekend. I first met Kyleigh at the TRF campground in '99, when she and her SO, Jerry, were visiting. We got together again for Scarborough 2000 in the Spring -- and started making plans then for TRF in the Fall! So Thursday night we picked her up at the International Airport nearby, then we all went out together to Pappasito's for a huge Mexican dinner. Ay, carumba: what a feed!
And we then had to come back to the house to pack and cook for the weekend. After all that Mexican food first, the smell of frying bacon [erp]...!
Needless to say, Friday morning was just a tad frantic. What with five Rennies and all the gear, garb and grub we had to pack out to the campground, we wound up taking three vehicles: my little truck, Mike's van and Linda's station wagon. But we didn't proceed as a caravan. Each of us all had last-minutes errands: banking, get gas, buy more supplies for the weekend -- so we all took off in seperate directions.
Now this was the first time I had actually driven by myself to the TRF site, alone. I could have gotten hopelessly lost, wandered around the Texas backwoods for hours and finally had to call in for help. But no problem. As soon as I turned off I-45 toward Magnolia, I spotted a little Toyota truck just a few cars ahead of me. There was a tent, tarp, several pillows, a wooden frame of some sort and several long staves with their heads carefully wrapped and tied in cloth sticking out the back of his pickup. Hmmm, looks like Rennies to me, methought: and I was right!
All I had to do then was follow them through Magnolia, right to the TRF campground!
Interestingly enough, I arrived just a few minutes after Mike and Kyleigh, with Linda and Pam showing up but a few scant minutes after that. Talk about perfect timing!!!
We set our pavilion up first. Between my EZup and Mike's, we had a spacious 10x20 area for "McDane's Tavern." Kyleigh had also handcrafted a beautiful banner for Mike, which we carefully unfolded and attached to one section of our pavilion (Photo, above right: Linda and I holding up one leg of the Tavern canopy, together. Photo by Michael McDane Harris, AKA "The RenGeek"). Her craftsmanship was outstanding, but it wasn't until much later that same evening, however, that we discovered the truly marvellous nature of her work...
Mike, you see, had brought some portable black lights with him to the campground -- just for fun, you understand. When we turned them on, the words "McDane's Tavern" just about jumped off the cloth, they were such an brilliant shade of electric blue! What with flashing lights on a long pole out front, tiki torches all around and Kyleigh's wonderful banner overhead, it was difficult not to notice our campsite. It all really looked great!
Five pairs of hands sure makes for light work...
In just slightly over two hours, we set up our three tents behind the pavilion, pumped up all our air mattresses, laid in our bedding, set out chairs and tables, organized our coolers and cooking gear and even rigged Mike's portable shower between two nearby trees. Once everything was arranged, "McDane's Tavern" was officially open -- and it was high time for a rest. But not for long. We had hardly opened a jug of "Thor's Hammer," our homemade hard cider, when our first two patrons -- Billy and Guy -- showed up.
They were actually looking for a mutual friend of theirs, but they spotted our pavilion first, read Kyleigh's banner and decided to drop by for a quick visit (Photo, left: Sir Guy in full "Cavalier" garb at Sherwood Forest on Saturday. He's definitely NOT me: he's too tall, good-looking, cuts a right dashing figure -- and he has HAIR!!!). It turned out Billy was also ex-Navy, so he and I got along just great. Naturally, we got to swapping sea stories. For one thing, he noticed my coffee mug on the table: the one with the permanent, unwashed dark-brown stains in it. Now any "Old Salt" knows you never really wash out your coffee mug. You might swirl some fresh water around in it to "wash" it out, but you never actually clean it. After all, we sincerely believe the "buildup" over time helps mellow out the acid bite of Standard-Issue Navy brew...
Anyway, Billy told us how one day his fastidious Filipino housekeeper scrubbed out his mug -- the one he had carefully "nursed" through four years of midwatches and sea duty. The look of remembered horror on his face when he discovered that his favorite mug was suddenly clean was priceless. I mean, I could really feel his pain!!! [grin]
Seeing "McDane's Tavern" on Kyleigh's banner, Billy also told us a great Scottish joke:
There's nothing like camping to give you an appetite...
So we said farewell temporarily to Billy and Guy, promising to meet them at their camp later that night, then drove to the nearby town of Magnolia for dinner at the Hickory Hollow Restaurant. Admittedly, it's just a tad "country" for our tastes. For one thing, they were promoting a "country hoedown" later that night in the restaurant itself, complete with "setups" -- glass, ice and mixers -- for those who BYOB (Bring Your Own Bottle). We did not advertise our "Rennishness" openly there, needless to say!
On the other hand, they sure did know how to put on a feed. I tried the "Hired Hand" Special: a chicken-fried steak with mashed potatoes and sald bar on the side. It turned out to be a huge chunk of meat which easily covered half of the medium-sized pizza pan it was served on! Truth be told, it was all I could do to "clean my plate", even tho I plied both knife and fork with gusto. I never even managed that trip to the salad bar! All that set me back just slightly over eight dollars -- and the rest of our party fared just as well!! Man, were we stuffed!!!
We returned to the campground just as the sun was setting (Photo, right: "McDane's Tavern" at night). Talk about more good timing: we had just enough time to set out our lanterns, fire up the Tiki torches and throw back a few snifters of "Thor's Hammer" before the drumjam began. About then, James Huckabay (AKA the Tavern Knight) and his SO, Pat, showed up briefly for a visit. Pat is also known as the Psychic "Madam Fatima" at TRF this year in her own booth in the Moroccan Bazaar. Regretfully, we only got to chat for a short moment, however. As soon as the drums started pounding, I was off...
As long anticipated, the Friday night drumjam was awesome! There was already a full circle of drummers, Dragon from Chaos (our local Houston fantasy group) was present as "Master of Ceremonies" and several attractive young ladies were dancing and swaying to the beat when I arrived (Photo, above left: for some reason, few guys will readily join the dancing in the drum circle -- so the ladies just have to make do without them, sometimes). As an extra, unexpected bonus, there was also a "firespinner" weaving his fire magick off to one side (Photo, below).
As usual, we broke out our shakers and rattles and passed them around to the gathered spectators. The "shakers" we made earlier at home out of empty Pringles cans, painted black with a gold Celtic knot on the outside and a small handful of popcorn kernels, inside. The "rattles" were simply empty plastic film cannisters -- again, with a few kernels of popcorn inside "for effect." Surprisingly, they all could give off a most pleasing sound, especially when 20 or 30 patrons were using them simultaneously at the same time, together.
Mike also dragged over one of his coolers from our campsite, passing out cold bottles of water for the drummers and free beer to the crowd. Billy showed up about that time with his friend, Jason -- and a bottle of Mead, which he freely passed around. Jason, it soon turned out, was a real drumjam "monster!" Altho he had been to several faires before, this was his first drumjam, ever. We stuck a shaker into his hand and let him go -- and man, did he ever go! Every time I spotted him thereafter, he was dancing and shaking, hard and wild!! Like, he really got into the BEAT!!! [grin]
This evening's session was just a tad more formal than usual. For one thing, there were definite "sets" with short pauses between when the drummers stopped for quick gulps of water. That also meant that there was a definite "mix," with some sets being slow and sensual, others hard and fast. Personally, I prefer my rhythms hard, loud and fast but hey: I can also appreciate that fast, continuous drumming is really hot, hard work! Besides, Dragon used those pauses to lead the crowd of patrons in raucous cheers of appreciation and loud "Huzzah!s" for all the drummers! I really had no complaints, myself. The drum circle didn't break up 'til almost midnight...so I got to enjoy almost four hours of really great drumming!!!
The evening drumjams at the patrons campground at TRF are most unique events, indeed. Outside of Hawkwood and Bristol, there are very few other MidWestern Faires that even offer anything like it. When Elvendrums played Kansas City back in '97, for instance, their opening set was billed by faire management as a "drumjam". True, their drumming was fantastic, but it was part of their regular performance: their audience simply sat, listened and applauded enthusiastically. The only other real opportunity to hear good drumming during the year is to sign up for a New Age weekend -- starting at $500/person! -- where drumming is offered as a meditation technique!
After the drums ceased pounding and the final "Huzzah!" was sounded, we all trooped on over to the Chaos encampment to end the evening. There we passed the Mead around their campfire some more and talked quietly 'til nearly 2am. By that time, Dragon had vanished so we made our farewells and staggered wearily back to our own camp. Praise the Godz but the flashing light over our campsite never looked so good as a beacon to wayfaring sailors and other lost, benighted souls! I was seriously "feeling no pain" by the time I crashed onto my air mattress and slipped into Oblivion...
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