SPOKANE WORD - sent by Andrine on Friday, July 19
Chautauqua Haiku
Heavily laden
with tents, hopes, costumes & dreams
I join the circus.
Hi Everyone -
I had the opportunity to briefly visit the first leg of the Chautauqua this week. The bus and truck left Eugene on Monday for Spokane
with almost everyone and everything in it... just a few minor glitches I understand. I had initially changed my plans to stay home but
at the last minute jumped in the car with Howard and Diane on Wednesday and drove with them to Spokane. We got off to a much later start
than was reasonable, but drove efficiently and arrived just after dark at the Riverside Campgrounds in Spokane. There was a meeting of
sorts happening when we arrived at the camp with chairs in a circle surrounding some very dim lamps so it was pretty hard to tell who was
there, but there were a lot of them. We were greeted in whispers by Tiberio, our wonderful chef, already trying to feed us. As it started
to sprinkle the group disbanded to gather up what goods had been ejected from the bus and move them to drier areas.
We hoisted our palacial tent in the dark and battened down the hatches just as the first lightning and thunder could be seen and heard
rolling over the town. The rain came in sheets ferociously drenching the campsite, and we were woken frequently by the thunder and lightning ripping the air above
our heads.
Many folks had a poor night of sleep, some also had a wet night of sleep. The morning came too early, the light brighter than it should be
for a rainy day, but soon the clouds rolled back and we enjoyed a little sunshine to dry our tents. Our campgrounds were indeed on the
"Riverside" and although the view was beautiful we were warned by Tomoki and Tasche that there was something a little gross about the water;
they had taken a dip the day before and found it funky.
After a breakfast of coffee and granola with a berry compote, we made arrangements for airport and various store runs.
Howard and I were tasked with picking up Shoehorn and Daoud from the airport at 1pm. As we drove out of the campgrounds we discovered the
Spokane sewage treatment facility upstream; no wonder the water was funky. Despite road construction and missed turns, we arrived at the
airport just in time to greet our travelers at baggage claim. In the car on the way to the theater we were surprised to find a station
playing the Teddy Bear's Picnic as performed by the Fighting Instruments of Karma Marching Chamber Band/Orchestra. It was of course KYRS
Thin Air Community Radio, the beneficiary of our fund-raising show, conducting an interview with Eben, Ray and Nancy.
When we arrived at the Bing Crosby Theater, we were greeted by our competent and friendly tech guy Tony who gave us the tour. The Bing is
a beautifully restored vaudeville house that possesses the aura and the acoustics that every vaudeville show needs. Soon the truck and bus
arrived, discharged its passengers and equipment, and everyone got to work rehearsing, sound checking, setting props, making set lists,
arranging CDs & T-shirts, and folding programs. Faith and Baby Gramps arrived in the midst of all this. Tiberio fed the masses. In the
ticket booth, Tove and I sold tickets and greeted audience members as they arrived.
There was some confusion about assigned seats vs. general admission, and whether the balcony should be opened or not, but it was such a
fine venue that all the seats were good and people were satisfied with festival seating.
The band marched in... We had a show! Howard was the MC introducing our acts:
The Planets, Faith Petric, Baby Gramps, David Clay, Stephen Bent, Haute Trash Fashion, Shoehorn, Daniel Sloan, Dream & Vern, Mamazon, Pom
& his Land Fill Harmonics, A 7-minute Inconvenient Truth & Nanda (I apologize if I forgot anyone). After the show The Planets played a set
for those who wanted to dance dance dance! Way fun!
This morning as we broke camp and most folks headed off to Troy, MT for the next adventure, I got my ride to the airport, flew to Portland
and caught the Max Light Rail, leaving Chautauqua to its own mischief. On the train contemplating my brief whirlwind tour I was interrupted
by a familiar voice calling my name and looked up to see Shoehorn with his sax and taps, a fellow traveler out of context as we returned to
the mundane.
I'll leave you with my poem-of-the-day:
Monster Cage Chautauqua
As if it wasn't surreal enough
with our cast and crew of characters
decked out in boas, hats and band jackets
wielding clubs, staves, and weird instruments,
at the theater next door there is a cage-fight match
featuring steroid-pumped glistening men and yellow-shirted bouncers,
each the size of 3 jugglers.
Imagine for a moment
a world where theaters combine
in a Monster Cage Chautauqua
with truck-on-clown action:
Thursday!! Thursday!! Thursday!!
A spectacle not to be missed!
Be There!!!
Much Love,
Andrine
Chautauqua Journal #2 - sent by Diane on Saturday, July 21
Many thanks to Andrine for her wonderful account of the first two days out on tour; as she's gone home for a while
(and Heather isn't here to do her usual colorful job of documenting NOTC's every move), I will continue the story.
Friday, July 20
We moved from Spokane to Troy, Montana in our several vehicles: the biodiesel Chautauqua bus driven by Daniel, Kevin's bus,
the cookmobile with driver Ben Thomas, Captains Sid and Tove in the Uhaul truck, Eben's "Atombus" car (Low Emission Vehicle)
chauffeuring Faith, Nancy and Tony, Pom's station wagon, Michelle's van, Howard's "Green" hydrid car with Diane at the wheel.
Many of us ran errands in Spokane before heading out, and one of the busses made a stop for a swim in Sandpoint.
After losing an hour to Mountain Time, we arrived in tiny Troy (population 974) at the appointed time for the potluck supper
put on by the town. A wondrous array of food, with strong leanings towards fake-Mex, ranged along tables in the gym at the elementary school.
We ate as much as we could, chatting with the townsfolk who joined us. While we were thus occupied, Peggy and Harry joyously swooped
in and joined the troop.
And then the entertainment began, such as it was. It was actually very sweet that these folks wanted to share with us their musical skills.
One woman sang kids songs that she'd written, some of which had one verse and then abruptly ended. The best parts were when she played a
cute little red accordion and then a cardboard dulcimer. The next 'act' consisted of a drummer who played with one guitarist and then another.
Three numbers in total were blasted at us by these teenagers. It was a tad difficult to discern what was going on - it mostly sounded like
the rest of the metal band didn't show and so the back-up guitar and a drummer were left to jam, which they did very enthusiastically.
Many of us who prefer not to have hearing loss improvised earplugs from napkins. The bulk of townspeople departed during this segment of
entertainment. The final performance, which a few Chautauquans joined in on, was presented by four women playing conga and assorted drums.
It's kinda great to see that they have an all-women drum circle in Troy. We reciprocated with a few songs from Faith, and then we all got
back in the busses and went to make camp.
Camp is on land provided by Lin, a mile past the town. We have ten acres of mountain woodland on which to roam, so it's possible to put
a tent very far away from anyone else. Howard and my tent is one of those - it is amazing to lie in the tent and see only pine trees out
of every window. The temperature drop at night was palpable - as soon as that sun was gone the air cooled rapidly. The sky was light
until past 10:00pm, which was very helpful since we all set up tents after dinner. Harry and Peggy broke out the guitars and led a rousing
song session, sans campfire.
Saturday, July 21
We all got the best night of sleep so far - it's quiet and after the singing most people crashed. The trees didn't keep the light away,
but it's at least ten degrees cooler in the forest than out in the open area, which heated up as soon as the sun was up. Workshops started
in the park at 11:00 - juggling, circus skills, vocal arts, instrument making, mask making. Joannie and Howard and I are in Eben's hotel
room (Eben uses a c-pap machine to sleep and has to have an electric outlet available), seemingly the only place in town that sprung for
a satellite dish to get wireless internet. The other place that internet access is available is the library, although it's dial-up.
The library wasn't open yesterday "because it's Friday," being the explanation, and today it's open for two hours only. In any case,
after we send our various messages we'll go back to camp, where Tiberio will have lunch waiting and Daoud will hopefully have the
solar shower going.
More later!!
--Diane
Chautauqua Journal #3 - sent by Diane on Wednesday, July 25
Hopefully you’ve taken a look at the photo journal at www.coloradoquartet.com - I will be posting different things there,
and will also include a link to all the email postings I’m sending in this format.
Saturday, July 21, continued
We had a wonderful show in Troy at the park – the town really showed up in full force. They turned the event into a carnival;
after all, we are the circus. They also joined the parade with enthusiasm and fabulous animal costumes. Two things of note
during the show, which began at 7:00 pm: Howard is presenting the short version of his An Inconvenient Truth slideshow near
the end of most of our shows, but because the sun stays up so very late here, it wasn’t dark enough for us to see any of the
slides when we got to his part at 8:45. Howard took it in stride and made amusing comments about what we would have been
looking at if we’d been able to see. The funniest one was polar bears on ice against a white background, which was basically
what all the pictures looked like anyway. The other interesting thing was a local trio that joined us (see pictures on the
webpage), which included a one-armed guitarist.
Sunday, July 22
The bulk of the troop got packed up and into the bus by 10:30, to drive to Eureka (about and hour and 45 minutes away) for
parade, workshops and show. Your faithful reporter can not give an account of the parade, because I stayed behind to help
Howard with his projection screen washing project, which involved tarps and hoses and some amount of despair. We did get
to Eureka in time for workshops, of which the drumming session in particular was energetic and well-attended. It was
very, very hot in Eureka – close to 100 degrees. We were in the park for workshops at 3:00, and the show followed at 6:00.
The band was in the sun for the bulk of the show, which was a bit draining, and all the acts that move around a lot had
to contend with both the heat and the uneven grassy surface. But it was a good show all the same. Again we had a few
local performers add to the mix, and they were quite interesting. There is a local instrument builder named Ray Jacobs
that all these folks seem to know of, who makes cardboard fiddles and guitars. Pom has brought one of each of these
instruments with him, and different players are having fun trying them out. Both instruments have wooden necks, but
the bodies are all made out of cardboard.
Gavi’s band from Portland, The Planets, is part of Chautauqua this year, and they are doing both an opening song and then
a closing set at each show. We all get up and dance, dance, dance while they play the ending set; they play several songs
and it’s a great energetic way to close out the show. A lot of the audience leaves, but some do stay and listen or dance.
We were treated to a Fantastico meal after the show – hamburgers, pasta salad, greens, watermelon, biscuit shortcake with
fresh raspberries, brownies, muffins. There was a lot of food and we took home quite a bit of leftover fruit and dessert,
which came in handy while traveling the following day.
A very scary thing happened on the way home from Eureka to Troy. Daoud (David de la Rocha) was driving the Chautauqua bus
along the twisty mountain highway when the headlights suddenly went out. He yelled a profanity, which alarmed the passengers
somewhat, and got the bus stopped in the pitch black without plunging over the edge of a cliff. Daoud then assembled a squad
of flashlight bearers in the front of the bus and drilled them on where and how to shine their lights in case the world went
dark again. They started off with the headlights once again working, but after a while they once more went out, and the light
bearers instantly sprang into action. Daoud managed to get the bus into Troy, where they providentially found Karl and his
car; Karl acted as a pilot car to get the bus back into the camp area. This incident reminded all of us (we should know
better by this time) that every large vehicle needs a pilot car. When we are in civilization, a cell phone can bring us
help if it’s needed, but out in the middle of nowhere another car is vital in case of trouble.
Just like scouts, we are now prepared.
--D
Chautauqua Journal #4 - sent by Diane on Friday, July 27
Monday, July 23
We had a leisurely day, and in true Chautauqua fashion managed to spend most of the morning packing and getting ready
to go. Before we got into our vehicles to drive we held our first circle meeting since the very first day, and
assigned the missing buckstoppers. Before the meeting, a few of us went in a pony cart to visit the neighbors, and
to see a carved chair that was made from a naturally strange piece of wood. The neighbor, Jerry, had as much of a
junk pile as I’ve ever seen, except that he had enough land so that it wasn’t a pile; huge amounts of rusting
machinery and vehicles littered his land and junk was spread all over. He has a woman living on the land, in a
trailer without electric or water, who told a very sad story. Originally from Bakersfield, she had gone to live
in rural Montana to escape from the cruelties of her ex-husband, who seven years ago beat her twelve times with
a baseball bat. He broke her tailbone and the entire lower half of her back; she was in a body cast for months.
When I asked if he had served time for this horrific attack, she said no, that his aunt was the judge and his
brother was the sheriff. She then went on to explain that she had spent four hours in jail for saying that she
would kill her ex if she saw him again – she was in the body cast at this time. She has grown kids and seven
grandchildren whom she can’t visit because she can’t go back to Bakersfield. But she lives off the land and helps
Jerry make things.
We did finally get on the road, to drive to Browning, Montana. Eben got on the road, too, but in the opposite
direction, to go back home to Seattle. We miss him a lot.
We hit massive construction on the highway – a project which seemed to involve removing the entire road from
the ground and reinstalling it. Delays ran almost an hour while everyone waited for machinery to lumber around;
periodically a slow trickle of traffic from one direction at a time was allowed to crawl through over rutted
dirt and, if we were lucky, gravel.
Our trip from Troy to Browning was estimated at four hours of driving – add to that a swim/lunch stop and we figured
six hours. Some of us ran errands in Libby along the way, and we were all starving by the time we hit Logan State
Park for swimming and lunching. The water was wonderful, and almost everyone took a dunk. Tiberio tried very hard
to take a picture of everyone in the water in a circle, holding up their hands and yelling, “Fantastico!” This
proved to be a much more difficult project than one might imagine – we kind of got into an amoeba shape, but without
the hands and yelling part – while some photos were shot. Tiberio, in disgust that we weren’t doing what he wanted,
handed off the camera and leapt into the water to lead us. A threat of No Dinner was proffered when people
complained that they’d already done the circle thing, and everyone reluctantly got back in position. We yelled,
waved, and looked around to discover that the photographer had become completely bored and had left. No picture.
We were very conscious that the Chautauqua bus has no headlights, but luckily the sun goes down very late, and we
arrived in Browning with plenty of daylight to spare. Browning is on the Blackfeet reservation, and the vast
majority of the population is Native American. Erin McNamara, whose family comes from here (her grandfather lived
and the reservation), came out to join us, as did Jasper and his squeeze Sarah. Erin set up all the activities that
went on in Browning – she still has family here and visits often.
We stayed at a boarding school, and many stories were told about the cruelties of past eras, when the Native American
children were taken away from their families and forced to learn English and ‘modern’ ways. Through a certain amount
of confusion, many of the Chautauquans decided that the ghosts of tortured schoolchildren roamed the hallways, when
in fact this old bad school was not on this site: this is a new building. The students who attend live too far away
to commute to school daily, and they often go home on weekends. There are a few students who are taken away from
families because of abuse issues, but no one is forced to go to school here, and the native language is encouraged.
Some of the building was composed of open dorm area but there were several smaller rooms with doors, which were
understandably at high demand.
Tuesday, July 24 – a free day!
A few of us staked claims in a part of the building which appeared to be in the process of being painted, and sure
enough, at 9:00am in the morning we were summarily kicked out of our rooms and forced to relocate. It is nice to be
in a place with indoor showers and bathrooms, but most of us would prefer to be under the stars at night. Tiberio
loathes the kitchen, which surprised us. All the burners on the stove are covered with a griddle, so doing something
simple like boiling a pot of water takes forever. Tiberio describes this as a prison kitchen, intended to cook
pre-packaged foods.
Our activities for the day split into three categories: sight-seeing/hiking (most chose this), rigging the trapeze
(Sid, Tony, Daniel Neville, Alex, Nancy) and hunting for Hutterites (Harry, Chen, Daniel Milholland, Tomoki). Many
of those in the two latter categories also managed to get up to the mountains for a hike.
Erin’s uncle Alan, who lives on the res, was scheduled to take the sight-seers on a tour to Glacier National Park.
Erin suggested a leaving time of 8:30, which was soundly rejected – who wants to get up that early on a day off? So
we compromised to 9:30, and of course we didn’t get out of there until much later. The drive to the Park took an
hour and a half or so. Kevin’s bus and a few private cars went up, and lunch was sent in Pom’s car. The biggest
delays happened once we got to the Park, because the bus wasn’t allowed to go up to the starting area for hiking.
We had to take the shuttle van, which only ran every half hour. We managed to cram a lot of people in a small space,
but still had to wait for a long time.
The mountains are truly spectacular – we hiked up to the level of some snow, and bemoaned the diminishment of the
actual glaciers. We saw a fair amount of wildlife: three bighorn sheep, a herd of completely unconcerned mountain
goats, a marmot, chipmunks, birds. Since we are here during the peak summer travel season, in the early going it
was a bit like hiking in a crowd, but as we went farther things cleared out a lot. We had hoped to go to a swimming
place on the way back, but there were two choices of routes and neither would allow Kevin’s bus because of height or
length restrictions. We always seem to get home late, even when we don’t do everything we’d planned, so it was close
to dinner time when we did get home. The movie “Mirror Mask” was shown in our spacious rec room to close out the
day.
Chautauqua Journal #5 - sent by Diane on Friday, July 28
Wednesday, July 25 – Browning
Workshops were scheduled at the crack of dawn – 10:00 am – and Our People decided that we must parade through town
beforehand. Ben Thomas cleverly turned our poster into a little mini handout, 4 per page; Michelle printed them and
cut them out, and as we paraded past the somewhat desolate main drag we handed them to anyone who we could find.
The townsfolk seemed rather delighted that a parade of crazy people was going through their town, which we thought
was a promising sign.
The workshops were rather thin in attendance, with the bulk of interest seeming to lie in instrument making.
Juggling was not much of a draw, nor was drumming. Our housing was several miles out, so most of us took the bus
to town and were dropped off in the morning and stayed through until night. There was wireless internet at the
library, so a few of us plopped down with computers there. Others wandered the hot streets. I pulled out my espresso
machine mid-afternoon, and armed with a carton of milk and a load of ice, prepared iced lattes for all who needed
them.
The night before Eben left, which would have been in Troy, there was a short ceremony wherein he handed off the
band whistle to Steven Bent, assistant band leader. Steven called a band rehearsal for 2:30, his first official
leaderly duty. We ran through a few tunes and then melted away to wait out the rest of the hot day. Steven did a
great job at the show that night, which began at 6:00.
The Blackfeet people who make up the bulk of the population of Browning are not easily impressed by us white folk.
The men in particular have a cultural profile to not show emotion, and this can translate into not laughing or not
looking very interested in the entertainment. There is also somewhat of a feeling of “why should we come to see
what you’re doing?” In an effort to address this problem and be more approachable, two plans of action were carried
out. Plan one was to have a guerilla parade in the super-market and plan two was to challenge the Blackfeet to a
game of basketball. The market parade was very successful – lots more folks were in this market than had been at
the one for our Troy market parade. Mini handbills were again distributed.
There was quite a nice crowd at the show and, predictably, the women were much more open about their enjoyment than
the men. But even the guys lightened up after a while, and it became clear that we had won them over. They liked
all the juggling a lot, and a song by Faith about Columbus landing and finding that there were already people here
seemed to hit the right note for them. Kim also sang a song which they found connection to, about being a white
chick who is an Indian wannabee. The crowd was riveted during Howard’s global warming slide show (he does a 7
minute version at shows and a 45 minute version at workshops).
And then someone pulled the fire alarm. Daoud yelled, “Everyone out!!” David Clay ran across the front of the
performance area, screaming wildly and hysterically, like someone trying to incite a riot. The Blackfeet didn’t
bit, but calmly filed out.
The band played us out of the gym like a parade. The heat in there had been rather like a sauna and the outside
air was quite lovely and cool. We were a bit afraid that we would lose most of the audience with this interruption,
if for no other reason than it was kinda gross inside the gym. As the jugglers threw pins around and the band played
on, one eleven-year-old asked me if this was part of our act. Soon the fire truck drove up, the heroes of the night
got out and marched inside, and the alarm was turned off.
And it was a good thing that we were able to finish the show, because the Blackfeet adored Nanda. You could see their
eyes light up – here were our warriors, the strong and brave men of our tribe. It was the perfect ending.
Except that it wasn’t really the end, because after the show came the basketball game. On our team were David Ortez,
Karl, Steven, Ben Neville, Gavi, Sean (drummer in Gavi’s band) and Tyler and Morgan Langham. Sure, we had three
more players than the Browning team, but we still were only beat by one point. We were expecting to be fully
trounced, as the Blackfeet take their basketball very seriously and had several all-State winnings posted on the
walls of the gym. The opposing team had a lot of trouble dealing with Morgan – not being used to playing with
girls, they shied away when she reached for the ball close to their crotches, so she was a kind of secret weapon.
We got back to camp late and had Tiberio’s delicious polenta and meatballs. And then we heard The Story of the
Hutterites. At the risk of not telling the story in its entirety, I will attempt to write down what I remember,
and if I’ve left anything out possibly Harry (who left with Peggy the next day and is ostensibly home now) will
chime in with additions.
The Hutterites, according to Wikipedia: “are a communal branch of Anabaptists who, like the Amish and Mennonites,
trace their roots to the Radical Reformation of the 16th century.” Originally from Austria, they migrated to the
Ukraine and then in the late 19th century to the U.S. There are colonies of them in Montana, and our first sighting
of them occurred when a Chautauqua vehicle pulled into a gas station in Browning. After an evening spent speculating
on whether they’d like a Chautauqua show, a special Hutterite tracking expedition was organized.
Harry the Hutterite Hunter drove for the safari, which included Tomoki, Chen and Daniel Milholland as
co-conspirators. (They waited until the night after the Browning show/basketball game to give us a reenactment
of the event, but the actual trip was the same day that we went to climb mountains, which was Tuesday.)
Information was obtained regarding the location of the Hutterite colony, some miles out of town. Once they were
in the general vicinity, the intrepid explorers asked directions of some linesmen, who pointed them to the Hutterite
habitat. They went up to the compound, which consisted of rows and rows of trailers with sidewalks between them,
and were greeted by Joe. And then they talked to Joseph, and then to Joe. It seemed that everyone was named Joe.
The women invited our boys to come and watch them pick cucumbers, but the head Joe nixed that idea. In their
presentation, the fearless adventurers spent some amount of time speculating on the meaning of “watch us pick
cucumbers.” There was some exchange of information about our two cultures: the restrictions of the Hutterites,
who stay away from sins of the flesh like juggling, and the love-your-neighbor philosophy of the Chautauquans.
Reverend Joe seemed to have a fascination with Tomoki, to whom he paid an inordinate amount of attention, but
despite the winning ways and persuasive techniques that we teach our tribe, the Hutterites flatly refused to
either come to our show or allow us to come present a show especially for them. It seems a bit flat in the
writing of it, but the reenactment that the brave explorers presented was hilarious. I guess you had to be there.
By the time they were done it was quite late, and we all went off to bed, with promises of loud awakenings at 7:30 am.
Gee, that made us happy….
Chautauqua Journal #6 - sent by Diane on Friday, July 28
Daoud reminds me that I left out an amusing little joke we played on Steven Bent. And I mean PLAYED. At the first Fighting
Instruments of Karma Marching Chamber Band/Orchestra parade after Eben left (which meant that Steven was now our learless
feeder), we all agreed that when Steven gave the toot-toot for Chumleighland March we’d play Washington Post instead. It was
quite flawless – we were going through downtown Browning in the morning before workshops; Steven tooted us in and a rousing
rendition of Washington Post burst forth. Steven played a few notes of Chumleighland in confusion before switching tunes, and
we kidded him mercilessly about his powerful leadership.
Thursday, July 26
A travel day, with a major expedition to Running Eagle Falls on the way. We went into Glacier National Park and then hiked
in a short way to the falls. They are a wonder of nature – the water shoots out of the middle of a craggy rockface into a
fairly deep swimming hole. The river that the falls are part of is fed by glacier melt water, so the whole thing is freezing
cold to boot. A few of us (myself included) were not interested in having that sort of icy experience, but most of the
Chautauquans boldly went forth and flung themselves into the water. And then it became clear that we are a troupe of acrobats
and circus performers, because some of the more daring folks started climbing the rock face and diving from high up. There
was also an outcropping at a lower height, and many people jumped off there, from six-year-old Jabali to x-year-olds like
Pom and Howard. Make sure you check out the pictures at www.coloradoquartet.com.
We pulled into Missoula eventually, and set up camp in Fort Missoula historic park. It was mentioned that one early use for
the area was as a Japanese internment camp during World War II. The park now houses a military museum, many rusty pieces of
enormous machinery, old artifacts from a sawmill, large parklands, army reserve barracks and some empty fields. The empty
fields are bereft of both green grass and trees, but do have an abundance of hot sun and hard ground. Many enterprising
to get shade were found, including lean-tos of tarps, setting up tents against trucks, and in the shadows of giant machines
and other tents.
Friday, July 27 – Missoula
An action-packed day. We started off with an impromptu ceremony in the huge beehive burner that marked the edge of our camp.
Beehive burners, also called wigwam burners, were used to burn off waste from the sawmill – all the little pieces of wood
that are left over after cutting. It was shaped like an upside down badminton birdie, about fifty feet tall, made out of
metal and had little doors around the bottom. These burners are not legal for use anymore, as they emit pollutants and nasty
smoke. Many of you know that Ray needs dialysis three times a week; Karl drove him each time, sometimes for hours, to get to
appointments. A while ago, Ray had an audience with a wise Tibetan Buddhist, who told him to do a healing chant twice a day,
and in the burner this day Ray asked us to join him in chanting. We made a big circle around the inner edge of the burner and
Ray paced in the middle, describing his journey and the purpose of the chant. After repeating the chant several times, he
asked everyone to “bury the blame” or possibly send it up in smoke (we were in a burner, after all). Everyone called out a
name of someone they wanted to forgive and then there was more chanting. Many people were emotionally moved by the intensity
of the ritual, and several sobbed. We also did the hokey-pokey, which seemed an appropriate and Chautauqua-like addition.
From the sublime to the physical: the camp’s next project was to set up the yurt. With Howard as yurt captain, it took a couple
of hours to erect the structure, which we desperately needed as a way to get out of the blazing sun. Howard is very safety
conscious and the workers kept being reminded to put their hardhats on each time they fell off. The yurt was a beautiful
addition to the camp, and made it feel cohesive. Another thing which makes camp livable is the shower, which Daoud put up as
soon as he got to camp the night before. There is plenty of room inside the shower walls for two people to shower, but we
have to dress outside the walls or we’ll get soaked. Very interesting to have tourists approaching, we suppose to inspect
the rusting machinery that litters our camp, and find us waving our bare asses in the sunlight.
It is very, very hot here: one hundred degrees most days. Downtown Missoula is very nifty, at least the part we paraded in.
Lots of coffee bars with wireless internet, and you can bet we took advantage of both the beverage and the access. We marched
up and down Higgins Street – it was tough to play piccolo, Nancy and I discovered. About the time I was noticing that it was
hard to breathe, she disappeared for a while, taking a break. At 3,000 feet above sea level, prancing around in intense heat
blowing really hard into little holes, we both got a bit dizzy.
Back to the park for workshops, and then a 6:00pm show. The aerial rigging had been set up in our absence, so both Alex on rope
and Jasmine on trapeze were able to perform at the show that night. The band got to sit in a cute gazebo, but the audience
stayed in the shade of the trees some distance away. They were encouraged to creep forward as the sun moved (a creepy
audience?). We had in the audience a woman named Lillian Dove, who was born in 1917 and remembers attending chautauquas
every summer in White Silver Spring, Montana. She reported that there was always a speaker and he would often draw on an
oil cloth with chalk, illustrating his stories.
The air cooled off to a lovely summer evening once the sun went away, and we noticed that the moon was almost full. It was
also really red because of all the fires that were burning in Montana. We eat our dinner in the yurt around Shabbat candles
and reflect on the luck that we have a day off tomorrow.
Chautauqua Journal #7- sent by Diane on Tuesday, August 4
Saturday, July 28 - free day
We are very happy to have a day off, and move slowly in the morning. Many of us are up rather early because of the
blazing sun in our unshaded field. Because a wedding is scheduled on our performance lawn for later in the day,
the rigging is taken down and we clean up whatever is still left from the show the night before. We have two major
objectives for this day: laundry and tubing on the river. After many phone calls and conferences, a place with
inner tubes for rafting on the river is found (one place had all 42 of its tubes already rented for the day). One
bus took off for town and Laundromat; several private cars wandered into town as well.
Due to our typical slow motion, it was already mid-afternoon by the time the Chautauqua bus was ready to leave the
laundry and head to the river. I chose to stay in town, spending the afternoon in a coffee house and working on these
journals, so I can't report on the river tubing, but those who went said it was a lot of fun, although due to the
late time they got a bit cold by the end. The tubers (not the potato kind) didn't get back to camp until well after
dark, and so dinner happened very late indeed. Tony was slated to make his famous BBQ chicken and salmon; those at
camp got pots boiling for corn and potatoes and started the coals and when Tony got there he made the rest of the
dinner magically happen. It was delicious!
The wedding in the park had taken place several hours before, but the happy people had been loudly partying all
through dinner prep and were still going when we finished eating. We decided that they needed to be raided and got
our instruments out, but by the time the band had formed up, our spies informed us that the party had ended and they
were cleaning up. Not to be deterred, the marauding band set out in the direction of another party, rumored to be a
wedding, that we could hear in the distance. We marched through fields, playing our favorite tunes, but were unable
to get close to the music we were hearing, which turned out to be several miles away. We did an about face and marched
around a different way towards home, still hoping to find some sort of gathering to crash. It was an odd and motley
pre-midnight parade, performed for ourselves. Suddenly, out of the darkness an eager man appeared, absolutely
delighted that we were marching towards him. He was beginning to clean up a wedding (sure were a lot of marriages
there that day) and urged us to march through, which we did for a small but enthusiastic group of wedding guests.
Onwards through the darkness, we arrived back at our camp. Howard issued the order, "To the burner" and we marched
into the metal beehive burner, where the sound of our small band became cacophonous and huge. We blasted and blared
out "Down by the Riverside" for a few minutes, and came to a rousing, cheering ending. At that point we noticed a
small tent inside the burner and were informed that Faith had been sleeping there when the band rudely bombarded her.
Her comment was, "What a strange serenade."
Once we exited the burner, we discovered that the non-band members had gathered in a circle so that the Chautauquans
departing the following day (Dream, Vern, Josiah, Karl, Ray, Daniel Sloan) could read their fortune cards. They each
spoke a bit about their experience and then read a card. It was a warm and bonding way to end the day.
Sunday, July 29 - Travel to Polson
It wasn't very far from Missoula to Polson, so we were relaxed about getting there. We got ourselves packed up and
headed out for the less-than-two-hour drive. We camped in a field at an elementary school, and had access to the
bathrooms, with real toilets and showers, which was great. The camping field was bare and exposed, so we had the
same blazing sun problem that we'd had in Missoula, but we also had a covered area with benches for the kitchen,
which was nice. Once we got into town, we headed to Flathead Lake like everyone else here - Polson is quite a resort
area, with the lake a major draw. Unfortunately, the use of skidoos is rampant, so a quiet swim is difficult; the
noisy machines are always within earshot no matter where you go to the beach. But a lake is a lake, and we enjoyed
swimming.
Monday, July 30 - Polson
A strange parade at 11:00 am, led by a police car. We are taken from our camping school down a few blocks; we turn
away from the main part of town and march around dusty streets, seeing very few people. After about 15 minutes of
this, David Rain Ortez asks the policeman if we can please parade on the sidewalk through the actual town, and this
proves to be much more satisfying. The workshops and performances are at Polson High School, on the other end of town
from camp. The clever people who brought bicycles are able to get back and forth easily, but it's a long, hot walk
for the others. Buses go to the workshops after the parade, and many people are then stuck out at the high school
for the remainder of the day.
There was a wonderful turn-out for workshops, and the organizers had people sign up for the various time slots. A
contingent of special needs folks from Mission Mountain Enterprises attended the quilting workshop and Faith's song
workshop, and they were delighted by the songs in particular. Linda Halverson, one of the supervisors, remarked:
"I've never seen them so entertained."
Iced lattes and huckleberry shakes were popular afternoon refreshments, and some folks managed to get to the lake
for a swim. The show that night was in a large high school auditorium, with a small but enthusiastic audience. We
were joined by the Great Scots, a local bagpipe and drum corps and turned in our usual inspired performance. We
had a surprise waiting for us back at camp: during the afternoon Tiberio had assembled the kids into a team of
gnocchi makers, and our after-show dinner was fresh, hot, home-made gnocchi. They were divine.
Chautauqua Journal #8- sent by Diane on Tuesday, August 7
Tuesday, July 31
There was some discussion about whether we wanted to do a run-out to Hot Springs, or to break camp at Polson and
move to Hot Springs as originally planned. Because we are not so crazy about our sun-baked field in the elementary
school, where a foursome of ladies plays tennis in the early morning, literally inches from our sleeping heads, we
opt for moving. (Desperate for shade, we had hung all available tarps and large hangings on the tennis court fences,
and staked tents up against them.) We have been treated to pancakes more mornings than not, which are lovely things
to wake up to. The younger folk are usually given the task of cooking them.
And if nothing else, this is a tour of the young. At the risk of leaving out some names, I will try to now list
everyone on tour.
“OLD” guard:
Faith
Joannie & Daniel
Howard
Diane (that’s me)
Kim Trypsmith & David Rain Ortez
David de la Rocha (Daoud)
Pom
Sid & Tove (truck drivers/loaders extraordnaire)
Robyn Albro
OLDIES on partial tour:
Nancy & Tony
Eben
Andrine
Harry & Peggy
Karl
Ray
Joey
Cathy Sutherland (final show)
Frank Olivier (final show)
somewhere in the MIDDLE guard (apologies for any incorrect guesses about age):
Ben Thomas (only one in this category on full tour)
Tiberio
Michelle Bates
Erin & Dominique
Kevin
and the YOUNG set (defined as probably under 30)
Nanda (Tomoki, Chen, Kiyota, Misha)
The Planets (Gavi, Yuri, Ben W, Sean; Emily left mid-way)
Stephen Bent
David Clay
Anna
Tasche
Callie
Morgan & Tyler
Kim’s kids, Raven & Jabali
Jeremiah
Somer Joe
YOUNG set on partial tour:
Danny Milholland
Ben Neville
Jasper & Sarah
Alex
Erin’s kids, Jasmine, Django & Carmen
Daniel the contact juggler
Vern & Dream
Dream’s son Josiah
Counting that out gives you 32 in the youngest set, and 29 in the over-30 set. This is a clear majority of younger
folk, and considering how many of the older set did fleeting portions of the tour, we were noticeably slanted in a
younger direction. The young folk really stepped up to the plate, with some areas of touring and show production
solidly in their hands. We had some preliminary discussions of how to include more of the younger set in
organizational and logistic planning, and look forward to figuring that out for future tours. Maybe even get some
on the board.
But back to the actual tour – we had a 2:30 parade in Hot Springs, which is a tiny, tiny little town. We packed camp
early in Polson and got ourselves on the road in time to parade up a hot dusty hill (much huffing and puffing as wind
players became winded) to a nursing home for a march-by community show. That means that we went into the building,
marched through all the corridors and then marched back out and down the hill. Immediately after the parade, the
rigging went up in the park and workshops started. Howard had a great turn-out for his Inconvenient Truth slideshow,
the best of the tour.
The community pulled together a fabulous potluck dinner at 5:30 in a building across the street from the performance
park. It was quite hot, and we were delighted to be able to get indoors for a while. The show began sometime after
6:30, and the audience was enthusiastic and fun. One interesting component was a group of at-risk teenaged guys.
My understanding was that they weren’t actually under arrest or at a juvenile delinquent facility, but their past
behavior has indicated that they need structure in order not to end up in one of those categories. They stay at a
facility, shave their heads like the military and evidently are rarely allowed out – they sat in the front and
thoroughly enjoyed the entire performance, particularly when scantily clad young women walked near them (ahem). We
were joined in performance by a local gal who twirls knives and other sharp things and a guy who sang along with a
homemade electric cello.
The most striking part of the evening happened after the show, during the dance party. The Planets usually played
a set after each show, and in this town a dance party was announced as part of the event. We all boogied in front
of the stage, with a large number of locals, while the setting sun turned the sky to astounding fiery colors of
oranges and reds. It was sad that the beauty in the air was due to raging forest fires not all that far away (there
was vague talk of evacuating Hot Springs the day before). Alex likes to go up on the rope after shows while the band
plays, and it was truly stunning to see her against the hellish heavens.
The hot springs are the main attraction in the town, and the largest hotel has a soaking area. The water is very
sulfurous, and we discovered to our dismay that showers also spew out the smelly water, so you can’t actually wash
off after soaking. We had been given three cabins at the Symes Hotel, in which quite a few people crashed, and some
of us also managed to wrangle rooms at the Alameda. I didn’t notice any tents on the lawn, so I think the leftovers
slept on buses. Around midnight a contingent of Young Folk marched, playing trombones etc, from the party cabin to
the stage to take their merriment outside. Many of us hung out in the soaking pools until it was safe to turn them
into suits-optional pools. Despite late night noise and naked bodies, we didn’t get arrested or booted out of town.
Wednesday, August 1 – first of two travel days
We overwhelm the kitchen at the Symes for breakfast, where they are used to two or three people ordering all morning.
Continuing the pancake theme, many of us order the enormous berry pancakes and breakfast stretches out past noon.
Tiberio had the night before announced a pasta making class at 10:30 am. Fat chance that anyone would do anything
that early when we’d stayed up half (or all) the night, including Tiberio. Finally, two hours late, the pasta class
begins on long tables next to the bus. About fifteen people follow Tiberio’s directions, mixing egg into flour and
then kneading. The doughs all rest while a sauce of garlic, fresh tomato and basil is concocted. Michelle and I wash
wine bottles and take off the labels during this time, and then the bottles are used to roll out the pasta. Strips
of dough are cut into pappardelle noodles. Tiberio admonishes us for rolling too thick, mentioning that in Italy
we’d be thrown out of town but it will still taste okay. And it does, much more than okay. Everyone vows to go home
and make a pasta dinner.
People had been working all morning (not everyone stayed up all night): the rigging was taken down, and Michelle
spent a huge amount of time working out directions for where we’d stay the coming night, halfway to Boise. After
several people chimed in with opinions, it was decided that we would spend the night in Elk Bend, near the trail
to the magical Goldbug Hot Springs. The Elk Bend Lodge has a large lawn for camping, and as this is the scene of
the first Ben show, we agreed that it will be a great place to finally do this year’s Ben show, which hadn’t managed
to happen yet.
Since we had been messing with pasta, the various vehicles didn’t get on the road until mid-afternoon or later.
Confusion cropped up over where we would eat dinner: Daoud made arrangements for the Elk Bend Lodge to feed us,
but this info never got to the bus drivers, who stopped for Chinese in Salmon. By the time the buses arrive, it
is 11:15 at night, but since we don’t really have to move very early in the morning, the show began at midnight.
Many funny bits, and a lot that make fun of people in the real show. “Jasper the Friendly Ghost” roasts our MC
Jasper nicely, and Mr. Crappy Pants gives David Clay’s Mr. Happy Pants character a trouncing, complete with Ben
W in drag, humping it. Morgan and Callie do a very sweet skit about what they’d like to do in the circus (flying
acrobats and lion taming), and Robyn goes to bat with a Noodleini impersonation. Jasper premieres his new character,
Luthor the Strong Man, whose best trick is to squeeze a lump of coal between his ass cheeks until it turns into a
diamond. Sean as a bear makes a brief appearance in this skit. Tyler does a very scary and hilarious impersonation
of Dream as part of “Drunk and Dream” (with Ben W as Drunk? details slipping away….) And David Clay pulls out his
Tony Woo character, instructing us to shut up and just listen to him in order to gain enlightenment.
Thursday, August 2 – another travel day
More confusion about what exactly is happening this day, so one bus doesn’t leave Elk Bend until quite late. In
the meantime, several people went up to the hot springs at 2:00 am. A few came down around 5:30, but a bunch stayed
up all night. It takes an hour to hike up to the springs, but it’s well worth it. Many pools – hot, cold and in
between – are tucked amongst rocks and the tumbling stream. Howard and I furtively packed up our tent and belongings
at 7:00 am and when we were on the trail at 8:30, we met the hardy band coming back down. Howard and I needed to
go to the Boise airport to get Andrine later on, so we grabbed our magic soaking time early. Apparently another
Chautauqua contingent went up around noon, but we didn’t see them when we came down around 11:30.
We all drove over rugged mountains as we passed from Montana into Idaho. The air was thick with smoke for
hundreds of miles, although we couldn’t tell where the wildfires were. Some folks stopped at a roadside hot
spring in Sunbeam – not anywhere as satisfying as Goldbug, but still nice. At the top of a very high pass,
right where Montana and Idaho meet, is a rest area and ranger station. Many of the vehicles stopped here for
a stretch or a pee. Kevin’s son Somer Joe was one of those needing to pee. There hadn’t been a rest area for a
while. Finally, at the top of the pass, the rest area was sighted, and with relief Kevin pulled the bus over.
It was about 5:30pm, and the restrooms were already locked for the day. Kevin and Somer Joe went off to pee in
the woods; Kevin was going about his business when suddenly right behind him a voice said, “This is Officer Kline.
May I help you?” Kevin replied in the negative, and the officer again asked what he was doing. “Duh, taking a whiz”
was the obvious answer, but Kevin restrained himself, zipped up and faced the federal policeman (this is a low-level
position, ranking lower than a park ranger). The officer was quite belligerent to Kevin, demanding i.d. and making
comments such as, “How would you feel if people came and peed on your front lawn?” “You people have come here and
your children have crapped and left toilet paper.” Kevin called for help from Daoud, who works for the justice
department, and the officer was similarly obnoxious to David, demanding to see his documentation and then declaring
that his identification was a forgery. “This is obviously fake; this is the worst forgery I’ve ever seen.” David
laughed a bit at that, admitting that his paperwork looked pretty crummy but that he didn’t have control over the
quality of the justice department’s official i.d. After refusing to let the guy make a copy of his i.d., the
incident started to wind down. Kevin came out of it with a printed warning, accusing him of public urination.
It was the perfect run-in with the law for a Chautauquan: a ticket for peeing in the woods.
Friday, August 3
We are camped at Eagle Island State Park, a nice enough place except for the fact that there are trees everywhere
but in our field. Another blazing sun campground. We huddle tents together, hoping to shade each other, and pull
buses and trucks in close like we’re pulling the wagon train around. This is also to make it look like we’re a
village, because we are in a public park, right next to a parking lot. Many curious people stroll by and stare at us.
Ben Thomas has been in charge of the kitchen since Hot Springs, when Tiberio and Michelle left us, and very nice
meals are appearing on schedule. The flying things are menacing, however: we started off the tour with hordes of
wasps; now we are eaten alive by mosquitoes at all hours of the day, and yellow jackets divebomb us. Morgan, who
rarely wears shoes, steps on one and is instantly stung. Out comes the lime, Tiberio’s folk remedy. You cut the
lime, squeeze it to get juice and hold the cut side on the sting for 5 minutes. Then you liberally apply salt to
the lime, and put it back against the sting.
After two days of travel and lazy starts, we must spring into action. The yurt crew goes to work across the drainage
ditch (aka stream) that divides camp from lovely, green performance lawn. The rigging crew gets the aerial rig up,
and the shower crew installs the shower. I am invited by Joannie to take a real shower in a house, where I will
organize directions to the venues we will visit that day and send email journals. I step into the yard at the house
to admire the chickens and am instantly attacked by a mosquito. “They are fierce here,” I am told.
We grab lunch and head out to two community shows at Alzheimer’s facilities. Frank Olivier, who has a brother in
Boise, has flown in the night before and his presence adds a zaniness that is almost more than these old folks can
take. Luckily, a lot of them are too out of it to perceive that Frank on his towering unicycle might fall on them,
but most enjoy the shows immensely. After the shows we go to the Universalist church for pizza dinner from Frank’s
brother’s pizza place. We do a short pre-show and then the main event happens: Howard’s full-length slideshow of An
Inconvenient Truth, which few of us have seen in its entirety. After the heat and wildfires of the tour, we nod
our heads sadly at the examples of global warming, and sigh with familiarity at the photos of Glacier Park and its
nearly-gone ice.
Saturday, August 4 – Eagle, Idaho
First up is a desultory parade in Eagle, a weird place that until recently was a sleepy farming community outside
Boise, but which has now been developed into a high-end tract-housed perfect community. We are told that the ideal
spot has been chosen: a gazebo across the street from the farmers’ market. This does sound perfect, and when we
first get there we are encouraged. We’re on the main drag, it’s Saturday and there are lots of people shopping and
walking around. We parade through the farmers’ market, which makes many of the patrons and sellers pissed off rather
than delighted. There is a reaction of “who are these strange people and why are they blasting noise in our faces?”
Working on the idea that everyone loves a parade and will follow one to a gazebo, we are dismayed to see no one
coming across the street with us. While the band plays on, a few brave Chautauquans go out to the corner and try
to lure/wave/beg passersby to come over to our teaser show. A straggle of onlookers hangs around the fringe of our
little piazza, not coming closer, and we realize why. The sun is fierce, the sidewalk is baking and the pathetic
shade is far away from where we are playing our little hearts out, trying to gather a crowd. Some brave souls
stand in front of us, squinting vigorously at us and the sun which inconveniently is right behind us. When there
are approximately the same number in the audience as there are on the gazebo, we do a quickie show with Kim as
MC, and then hi-tail it back to camp for workshops.
The workshops aren’t much better – attendance is low. The mask workshop has several people happily gluing and
cutting, but Pom has only one person making an instrument and David Clay has only one walking his slack rope.
Other workshops fare similarly, as do the many merchants who have set up booths around the perimeter of the
performance lawn. Turn-out was estimated at 500-1,000, but that proves to be over-optimistic. Upon looking at
the entertainment section of the newspaper, we discover that we are competing with the Soul Food Extravaganza,
an all-day event now in its 15th year. We are also not in Boise, we are out in Eagle, which has a large population
of high-income, non-hippie households mixed in with more sensible folk. When show time rolls around (6:00-ish) the
audience is not only rather thin, they are really far away because there is no tree covering for a huge expanse of
lawn in front of the stage. They are repeatedly admonished throughout the show to move forward into the shadows that
slowly creep towards the stage as the sun finally goes behind the trees.
But audience or not, this is a good show. Joey does a great trick where he swallows glass that is fed to him by an
unsuspecting audience member, Cathy is elegant high in the air on the hoop (her Velone Sister Martha couldn’t make
it, but she performs solo and we love it), and several of the new bits from the Ben show are added to this, our last
hurrah. Frank, who never fails to make a very large impression, is completely insane with his rendition of Purple
Mane (did I get that right?), wearing a bright purple wig, riding his very high unicycle, juggling torches and
playing a flame-throwing guitar. There was an additional thread tying the evening together: in honor of his 25th
birthday, our MC Jasper got pied THREE times. After the 2nd time, he recalls thinking that he was safe, because
they couldn’t possibly pie him three times. But he was wrong….
Sarah put together a little birthday party with fruit, cake and beer, so after the wind-down from the show, we hung
out and enjoyed those treats. Late in the evening we moved into the yurt for our closing circle, which lasted until
2:00 am. That was tiring. Then we got up relatively early to take down yurt, rigging, kitchen and all our personal
stuff for the last time. We were industrious and we got all packed up sometime around noon. And then Kevin tried
to start the bus, and a leak in the fuel line was discovered.
Kind of a bummer ending for a bunch of people – both buses ended up in Eagle for an extra night, but the truck
and all the other vehicles had split, so none of the tents were there. People had only the small luggage they
took on the bus. Locals helped out where they could, feeding and putting people up, and miraculously, both buses
got on the road at 7:00am Monday morning. They stopped in Portland around 4:00pm to disgorge passengers, and then
Stephen drove the truck down to Eugene. We’re all exhausted – sad to be done with the tour, happy to be sleeping
in our own beds tonight, and I for one can’t get the band music out of my head. The summation of the tour was
(like most Chautauqua tours) that a whole lot of things could have been run better, but that it was a really good
tour, with great shows and good impact on the communities we visited. Some communities, like Browning and Hot
Springs, were visibly moved by our presence. That felt good to us all.
A few words on the final day, stuck in Eagle with the broken bus, from Pom:
As you know the big bus had a breakdown at the last minute. I stayed around and acted as delivery vehicle fetching
parts as long as the part store was open (till 7 pm), then I ran for Spokane, a solid 7-hour drive through mountains.
I was exhausted by time I got there. But the day of waiting was actually quite fun and the whole gang played fun
games like bingo-with-Joannie-prizes, and the ‘Bali call-and-response song, and who can look and sound most like a
cow (I think Joey was winner), and other cool stuff. A great new theme song for Noodelini was composed, and
embellished. We all watched in awe as Jeremiah learned a two-up juggling routine. I learned to play more things on
the trombone. The hero of the day was Danielle, who stayed around to help Kevin and immersed himself in the engine
of the big bus throughout the entire ordeal.
All pictures are now online at www.coloradoquartet.com