Camp Bisco Stories

Camp Bisco 2010 was awesome. That would be the short version of it. I could surely fill up pages and pages of a journal but I will keep my story to one. Everyone had the experience of a lifetime but few witnessed what myself and a few others did . It was a Friday morning.

After drinking a gratuitous amount of beers in the heat of the day all afternoon on Thursday and staying up all night with the help of some friends Saturday morning should have been something to look back on with anguish rather than satisfaction. As the sun began to rise (around 5a) my buddy and I sat around our car with a small group of friends we had recently met and spent the night with. Relatively uneventfully sitting around, talking and enjoying a smoke, the most entertaining thing that happened after the music was silenced was when the giant bag of sour patch kids was busted out from the back of the jeep. Great decision. I don’t think the shape, color, size and most importantly taste of the small children has ever been done with so much care as we did that morning. As we discussed the quality of the red ones vs. the green ones the weather and the scene were perfect. Although describing the day, someone assertively stating “It will only get hotter from this moment on” was a mind blowing statement to the group nothing could have prepared us for the scene that was about to unfold in front of our eyes.

As it was around 5 or 6 am and  many people were resting and silenced,  so the golf cart driving around was somewhat noticeable. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that it had taken a turn down a small opening in the aisle that understandably could have been taken for an access route to the main road. Strangely after making this mistake it took a sharp turn into an area full of campsites and tents. As I peered around the car in front of me I heard it before I saw it. Attempting to pull a U turn the golf cart had ran over a tent pole, cracking it in half and collapsing half of the tent. Startled awake from his driven over tent and air mattress I recognized the weathered hippie from earlier in the day. Surveying the damage to his tent, the weathered hippie began loudly explaining that he had just bought that tent 2 days earlier because he wanted a good quality, reliable tent to take with him to festivals.” (After the fact he pulled out the receipt amidst the trash in his car door!) Damn that sucks dude.

Slowly waking up with anger the weathered hippie began chewing out the guy driving the golf cart. As he got louder a few more people began to take notice of the commotion and take a look. There was a very attractive girl with the guy as well who was out of the cart and seemed to be doing the apologizing and explaining. While the weathered hippie was furious he wasn’t scary or violent, just aggravated that his tent had been destroyed and his girlfriends head nearly ran over while sleeping on their air mattress. The driver of the golf cart was awash with unspoken apologies. Looking like he was crying he could do nothing except hang his head on the steering wheel and look like he was going to break out sobbing any second. The weathered hippie just keep lambasting him and the poor guy just looked sadder and sadder.

When the pretty girl went to console the driver of the golf cart a friend of mine went over to the hippie and whispered something in his ear. Suddenly the hippie shook the guys hand, wrote his phone number on something and handed it to the pretty girl. Loudly he then began proclaiming “Ugghh MOTHER FU<ER…AHHH MAN…DEAD CREW FOR LYFE! FRIENDS OF FURTHER UNITE BITCHES, THE BISCUITS SUCK! GOD DAMN MAN !!! WHOOOOOO-AHHHHHHH!!!!!! -“I KNEW THAT WAS HIM!!” Someone shouted from the tent over from us.

“Hell Yeah man”, the weathered hippie said, “Barber from the Disco Biscuits got twisted and just ran over my tent with a golf cart… Got his own festival and thinks he can do whatever he wants…damn, im going back to sleep”

And that’s how I watched a Disco Biscuit run over a tent and nearly a person while on my first trip to Camp Bisco. I can’t wait to go back.

            Sparkleberry Lane blossomed into existence the moment we popped up our E-Z up at Camp Bisco 9.  Our campsite, marked by the beloved “Sparkleberry Lane” street sign, became a special place during the festival.  Located a tent or two away from Shakedown Street, Sparkleberry Lane was the site to be at.  We kept our space clean and comfortable at all times, welcoming anyone and everyone to come in, take a seat, and tell us about their lives. 

            Many beautiful friends came together in those long-lived three days.  Dreams, and opinions were shared, and you could always find a friend on the Lane to walk to the next show with.  The Sparkleberry love was so powerful at Camp Bisco that at one moment, sitting in the sun enjoying the company, seven of us exclaimed “We have to start a website!”  We literally didn’t want this amazing vibe to end!

            The power of our collective mind kept growing post Camp Bisco.   We established Sparkleberrylane.com within a couple of weeks after Camp.  We viewed the challenge of living in separate states as an opportunity to “spread the sparkle” further than we had imagined.  Sparkleberry Lane has now grown into a sharing post for like-minded people.  We’ve dedicated our site to two separate blogs “Berries and Jam,” which is strictly music coverage, and “B-Conscious” which speaks to our readers on multiple levels whether it be raising awareness, teaching meditation, or encouraging hobbies like hooping.

            Sparkleberrylane.com would like to thank Camp Bisco for infusing the festival with an infectious positive energy, and bringing people like us together year after year.  Camp Bisco 9 was a perfectly played festival for all involved, and we are grateful for all the musicians and the creative minds behind the magic of it all. 

Sparkleberry Lane is ready and willing to participate in Camp Bisco 10 and onwards…

To read more about Sparkleberry Lane or get involved with our mission visit our page here!

2002-08-23

Hey, you wanna go to a festival? Don’t know much about the headlining band, but it seems close by in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania. I hear they attract a lot of electronica-based groups and heck, it’s only for two days and like 40 bucks.

These are the words that spark the epic journey from north Jersey to Amish country in the late summer of ‘02. If you don’t know the area, you’re not missing much. The ILCC at least has a pond.

Darkness at 2am Friday morning, figure we get there early for once since it’s relatively close and establish prime seating position. After a few gas station stops for directions and half an extra tank of driving later, we arrive fourth in line at Salansky Farms. The tent bought from WalMart and returned immediately after is set up stage center in what looks to be an overgrown backyard. Unfortunately, the vendors set up practically in front of us as well, so everybody move 15 ft right, but not too near the port-a-johns!

Within hours, we realize everybody in camp, including Golfcart Brownie, stops by our table due to the high traffic area and an available horizontal surface. The jams commence along with everyone’s propane stoves within a twelve foot radius and I recall a really hot girl offering lobster, corn, and a baked potato for $20. (Still the best and strangest offer ever made at any show I’ve been to.) The snake-dancing setbreak divas are forever etched in my mind’s eye and holy floodlights, what a performance! My first Run Like Hell and I think Barber had a cold. Don’t remember much the next day other than vendor gooballs almost ripping my fillings out with melted marshmallows and a mix of Captain Crunch and Kix, but again, more pretty lights, first and only Texas Pussy, and I think I saw god dancing on the hilltop. He wore an astronaut suit and gave a high five.

One flat tire replaced with a donut later and I arrive home Sunday to stark reality and my parent’s basement. When’s the next one, has turned into what’s the lineup, even though I moved away and live in Arizona. Can’t wait for the celebratory anniversary of my Biscuit addiction, see you there!

Well, Saturday during the day was hot as hell so the fact that a storm was brewing was probably the best thing that I could have heard that day, what I should have realized was that it was foreshadowing one of the strangest and funniest nights of my entire life. I came to camp with my best friend Becca, a kid we call Ted Williams, and Clayton. Ted had found himself in a hippie tent on the other side of the camp no where to be found when we heard of the storm coming in and the same was to say for Clayton(who I found finally on Sunday right before we left) We parked my truck and met up with our other friends Carl, Gary, and Sam Wise and dubbed their site as ours as well since we didnt bring an EZup, they did. During the evening our friend Gary was acting a bit strange, if you will, and asked Becca to come into the tent with him. Shortly after they entered the tent Becca came FLYING out followed closely by Gary who had apparently stripped down to nothing and before he could attempt anything on Becca he came out of the tent and LITERALLY came out announcing that “Well, since that didn’t work I have to tell you guys now that…. I’M GAY!!” This came as a surpirse to all of us since Gary was not gay up until the onset of the excitement he found at camp. After he announced this to us he began to ask questions like “How does this gay thing work do I just go hit on dudes and get it in with them or is there like a handbook or something?” he also tried to call his father, which we immediately stopped by locking his phone, along with Carl’s keys, in the truck. With his newfound sexuality Gary ran off into the crowd on the hunt for whatever he thought would make him happy. Once the storm had started and Gary was on his pursuit of happiness our good times continued to roll. All of my friends were at base camp under are EZup tent just watching the clouds come in and the lightning storm light up the sky from a distance coming closer every stirke. Sam Wise, a dear friend now, and I decided to go on an adventure to get a case of waters from my truck to save us from making the trip and missing any of the storm/sick line up Saturday night had in store. As we stepped out from the EZup and walked a few yards it began to sprinkle a little so we hurried to my truck that was in the adjacent field to get the waters. Once we made it to my truck and started back the skies opened up and started to pourrrrr. Making the final bend and heading down the main aisle there were only a few other people in our sights. Just as we could see the aisle base camp was in we saw a person jogging towards us the same distance away that we had been from the turn down our aisle. As we get closer and closer Sam Wise asks me “Does that look like Gary to you?” Unfortunately, I couldn’t tell until it was too late. Somewhere between coming out and running around, Gary had taken all of his clothes off and was running towards Sam Wise and I in the pouring rain. As he got close enough to us where we could hear what he was saying, one of the longest most illuminating lightning strikes struck down almost as if it were directly behind Gary revealing his fists pumping through the rain and his voice chanting “I’m gay guys I’m really gay, thank you soooo much I love you guys but guess what… I’m GAYYYYY!!!” Gary continued to run past us chanting and pumping his fists as Sam Wise and I could not believe the image we just had burned into our minds. We had questioned if that had really just happened but it most certainly did. When we made it back to our campsite we didn’t even tell anyone what had happened because we were bascially in shock still. Gary had wandered back to camp, fully clothed at this point, acting as if none of the previous events had happened. He began to ask us if we hated him or anything clearly coming to the conclusion that he had just done some crazy things and with the assurance that none of us hated him we all loved him very much he put a smile on his face and went to what we all thought was the disco biscuits show. It turns out the next morning when we all woke up Gary had called a cab, gone to the Albany bus station, and took a bus all the way back home to central NH. All and all, everyoe expect for Sam Wise and I remember Gary’s episode as a funny little side story at Camp Bisco, but for us and along with whoever else saw naked Gary, we will forever have the image of him running through Camp chanting that he was gay burnt into our minds just as the lightning strike lit up the sky. As for Gary now, he stays away from the fun stuff at Camp and just as in Vegas, what happens at Camp Bisco, stays at Camp Bisco!!

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“It looks like it’s going to rain all night” Julia said to me.

Camp Bisco 9 thus far had been the best experience of my life. Every musician I have ever wanted to see only yards away from me at any given moment. Aisles of endless vendors filled with people selling everything from “moon mats,” to cheeseburgers, to jewelry. There were people with their personalized hula-hoops doing what seemed like magic tricks anywhere I looked. It truly was out of some dark, twisted fairy tale and I loved every moment of it. The Disco Biscuits, an electronic jam band based out of Philly, had started the festival. I had yet to go and watch a Biscuits set the entire time I had been there- the Disco Biscuits, the headlining act, and my aunts be-all, end-all of bands. Now, it was raining and I was bummed beyond belief at the thought that I might miss the Biscuits.

“All night, this thunder storm could go all night long.” Julia said again in the front seat of PJ’s car. Charlie sat quietly in the drivers seat as PJ and I, finally meeting for the first time sat smiling in the back. Both of us were tired from the events of the day, but tired with an excitement that was unmistakable. We all had gotten our second wind after hearing that music happening in the dance tent. For about two hours now, everything had been shut down. The tarp that we had all lived under for two days was blown away somewhere, and everyone sat huddled in their cars awaiting news of music. The only thing that could undo this storm that seemed like the end of the world was news of music only a short walking distance away.  However, I knew that this was the true calm before the storm. Something wonderful was about to happen.

At this point, nobody cared if we got dirty- we were already disgusting from having walked all the way from the Hill Stage back to the cars during the rain. The sky was so scary and erie, thunder and lighting clouds that looked apocalyptic. On our way back, lagging behind the others, I remember laughing for a good five minutes at some guy who remarked repeatedly to anyone that would listen to him, “Guys! Does anybody want to hold this metal pole for me? I’m a little bit freaked out right now.” So many hilarious things were all happening at once; it was too sweet to imagine a thunderstorm might ruin the night.

As soon as we received news that the dance tent was up, and that the Biscuits were playing their set, we all sprang from our car in a matter of seconds and ran over to the stage. PJ held my hand the entire way. It was no longer pouring rain, but a nice warm drizzle fell over everyone and we were all so happy. I cannot explain the euphoria that filled me at that moment, listening to the Disco Biscuits play- they truly amazed me.  And since this, they continue to be one of my favorite bands of all time.

I was there, with what seemed like my best friends in the entire world, it didn’t even matter that I had just only met half of them. The one moment that I remember specifically, as being the highlight of the best night of my life was when the Biscuits started their laser light show. I looked up into the sky, and as tiny drops of rain hit my face, I finally felt a part of something bigger than me. The lasers all moved about one another in a dance. The clouds were so low, and the tiny droplets of rain continued to move through the lasers in a gleaming sparkle, so that every time you looked up, you saw illuminated tiny dots of light, and a thick glittery, dazzling smoke that was beautiful beyond words. It was the crossing of two worlds, a toxic mixture that produced something more beautiful than words can truly describe. I will never forget that night. The night when my boyfriend of six months to come and I stood there, admiring the beauty of music. The night when I realized my purpose on this earth- and what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. A night where nobody but my best friends, and I, stood there hugging and crying with each other out of pure happiness. From now on, this is what I live for. This is what I live for.

Check out these old picks from the Adam Foley collection… Brought back some memories! Who remembers the string art? The guys look so young and so… Check ‘em out! http://www.adamfoley.com/bisco/campbisco2k/1.html

The story of how camp has morphed over the years from a quiet festival into one that doesn’t sleep much can be summarized in the pre-dawn walk I take each night, soaking in the mud, sweat, and beers that permeate the air.  Originally, meaning early 2000, this stroll was like trying to find a mating call in the dark, where hopefully someone had a spare seat so I can chill briefly for a second and perhaps share a light as I tried to burn off extra energy from the days carousing.  However, recently it feels that there is no need to dry off because the spectacles and floodlights are still going.  For the first time it seems as if camp has been given a catalyst to a bazaar identity and has reached out to those of us still mindlessly wandering the grounds remembering when times were less stressful.  The ability to occupy your senses at random all night rather than listen to crickets and voices is a much needed break from the barfly routine and however much Bisco is a vacation for me, now it just feels like I’m coming home again.