|
You all have
gone a-traveling far and wide to gather with others of
like mind to socialize, play and have fun. SO, I have a tale with which
many may see eye to eye. No doubt, you've all come across certain
phrases in reading event information and directions in preparing to
venture forth to parts hither and yon. Before I get to my tale, I ask
how many of you have run into these certain surefire phrases only to
find yourselves run astray of your destination? If you have, you have
run into a most fearsome beast which man only hath one weapon to defeat
it.
My tale is about a little known creature. 'Tis the dreaded critter known as the "YCPMI" Monster. (pronounced yic-pim-ee) Listen now whilst I tell you of my narrow escape from its evil misleading clutches. It was a Tuesday evening and there I was planning a nice peaceful trip to a “do.” All of the sudden I heard the dreaded, ominous music slowly start to build. There, it stopped. Good. What to bring? Archery being done, take the bow and arrows. Potluck, too. I think I’ll take that meat dish recipe I’ve been wanting to do for a while now. Bardic planned, good. Need marshals, take the marshaling staff. Merchants will be there, should bring a lot more money than originally thought (in case I have to get something I see). Okay, the event is at xxxxx, mka xxxxxxx. Now, where did my map go? Ah, there it is. What was that there in the shadows? It’s not there now. Never mind, must have just been my imagination. The site should take me about three or four hours to get there so I’ll plan on leaving work really early. There’s that music again, only louder this time and what was that just now out of the corner of my eye? What’s going on here? It feels a little chilly in here to me, better put on a sweater. There, that’s better now. Let’s read those site directions again. The site is about 10 miles north of that place. You take that exit then you turn left at this road. Then follow this road until you get to the second stop light, turn right and go about 3.5 miles and the site is on your right, you... can’t... possibly... miss... it. OH NO! LOOK OUT!! It’s the dreaded beastie, the YCPMI Monster!!! IEEEIEEEHHH!!!! Quickly, I ran for the magical Liquid Parchment, the only thing known to man to stop the Monster dead in his tracks. With a fast zig, and a quick zag I ran through the manor to my desk and whipped out my trusty bottle of Liquid Parchment.. Then with a rapid flick of my wrist that would do my fencing master proud, One-Two-Three, I beat that Monster into the Land of Nevermore. Was that ever close, or what? And the moral of this story is: Autocrats remember -- NEVER, Never, ever use such phraseology like “it’s easy to get to,” “it’s impossible to get lost,” or “you can’t possibly miss it,” to Event Copy lest you invoke this ghastly beastie again. Also, let the traveler beware when one sees these phrases. Or you too, might just barely make it out alive, like me. And, remember, keep the Liqiuid Parchment handy! (Or better known in some circles as "Boo-Boo Paint".) It is twenty-plus years ago and I remember as if it was only a short time ago. The event is a medieval re-creation event called “September Crown.” This event is being held at Burfoot Park in Olympia, Washington. Eight to nine hundred people came from all over the Pacific Northwest to witness the choosing of the next King. Smells, sights, and sounds fill the park, enough to almost overwhelm you, and each added its own layer of ambiance. It seems as if we have stepped into another time. The day is sunny with few clouds in the sky, a rarity on the coast in September. It’s hot and humid. There are people everywhere -- laughing, talking, yelling, and singing -- wandering on walkways and among colorful tents and pavilions. No one is attired in what we recognize as modern-day street wear. Each is clothed in their version of garments from sources such as paintings, manuscripts, and movies. Various smells of campfires, cooking food, and the park itself all contribute to the atmosphere and waft over the whole of the encampment. It is a Saturday morning and such a sight greets me as I stand in the open doorway of a used, rip-stop nylon tent. As I look out I feel transported back to the Middle Ages. The campground has been magically transformed overnight to this place bursting with color, fragrance, and scenes from period manuscript illuminations, wood carvings, and paintings. There is music playing, either by modern-day tape players or live performers of pieces from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. Adding more layers of sound to the background are wood-crackling fires, buzzing from flies and bees, and the murmuring crowd moving from one place to another. From time-to-time the human public address system comes by announcing the latest news. Finally, there is the unmistakable rhythm of hammer upon metal sounding out that another piece of armor is in the forge. The wake-up odor of coffee fills the whole encampment, alerting all present it is time to start the day. Dried grass, blooming flowers, and the surrounding trees mix with the smells of wood burning in fireplaces and the tantalizing whiff of bacon and sausage cooking. Blending in with these is the tangy-sharp smell of metal and leather heavy-armor suits. Perfume and incense add the memorable final layer filling the air. Each century, culture, and country known to have commerce with Europe during the 5th through the 16th centuries is represented in the tents, clothing, and accessories. Vikings, Scots, and many others were portrayed in the way the populace dressed. Modern ice chests, camp chairs, pump pots, and lanterns have been disguised to not detract from the overall impression. Tents and pavilions representing various cultures are seen in Viking A-frame tents, Mongolian yurts, and 12th century Norman bell pavilions. After dressing and breakfasting, I walked the whole encampment to see more. A pennant-adorned rope stretched between posts marks the fighting area used by the heavy-armored fighters to separate it from the spectators for safety’s sake. Surrounding this area are pavilions and shades set up for spectators to watch. A prominently placed decorated shade is for VIP’s to view the upcoming fighting. Inside this structure are two high-back chairs, well upholstered for comfort, sitting side-by-side. Behind them are two banners depicting two crowned black lions against a yellow and white background. In front of them is a long flat pillow on the ground with needlework of the same design as the banners. This is where the current reigning King and Queen will sit. The fighting area is where most of the excitement of the day will take place. Today is the day for gallant and courageous fighters inspired by their gracious and virtuous Lady to prove their worthiness to be the next King by right of arms. There are tents and sun shades containing displays varying from armor and weapons to books and fabrics. These collections are on display to share and promote their own pursuit such as the Costumer’s Guild. There are also displays of wares for sale. This is how I discovered that it was possible to combine two favorite pastimes: shopping and camping. There is more to see like a couple being married according to medieval custom of some sort, full of symbolism and ceremony. Later, after the fighting is over, the King and Queen hold court. The majority of the common people gather in front of where the King and Queen sit leaving enough clear space for people to pass and come before Their Majesties when called to do so. Assembled to the sides of the Crowns are their assistants, an MC sort, guards, ladies-in-waiting, and royal champions. The whole group waits for the MC type to announce that “court” is starting. Court business includes handing out of awards in art, service, or arms, gifts to the Royals, gifts from the Royals, upcoming event announcements, and two gentlemen seeking royal permission to marry their perspective brides. Royal permission is granted after the brides-to-be have been seen by everyone. Court ends with hip-hip-hoorays for those who could not be there and for the entire group. The smells, sights, and sounds of another time allows me to reach out and touch history just a tiny bit to experience it in a tactile way in the doing and participation. The September Crown is a good way to learn history and for it to come alive. This particular year May Crown, later to be known as one of the May Drowns, was being held in a luscious emerald setting in the mountains of the Three Mountained Barony. The meadowed clearing of gently curving slopes was carpeted in new green grass and surrounded by sweet-smelling pine and cedar trees. All were gathering to witness the contest of the heavy-armored fighter who would best all opponents for the right to wear the Crown and the honor of crowning his inspiration and noble Lady as Queen. The afternoon was sunny, cloudless, and warm. The air carried the fragrant, earthy smell of the grass mingled with the pleasing, woody odor of cedar and the clean, fresh tang of the pine trees. My late lord husband, Alain, and I arrived and set up camp high on a slope in the late afternoon light. Alain set up the camp alone while I did what could and yet not over-tax myself in any way as I had just left the care of a surgeon's hands a scant 5 days before. Upon refreshing ourselves and have bit of repast we went for a stroll around to see who else had come and what else there was to be had for entertainment. After a very restful night's sleep, the morn did dawn clear and bright with only occasional bits of white fluff in the sky. The cool morning air held the promise of warming soon and was fragrant with the smells of salty smoked bacon, pungently spicy sausage, and the wake-up aroma of brewing coffee coming from the surrounding camps. Our night's fast being broken, we journeyed down the slope for a gander and some shopping on Merchant's Row before the first rounds of combat commenced. The booths at Merchant's Row contained a cornucopia of wares such as leather goods, blades, and ready-to-wear clothing to buy off the racks. Craft merchants displayed rainbow colored candles, perfumed handmade soaps, and games. Food merchants offered a delightfully delectable diversity of foods to take pleasure in from sausages on buns to roast birds. Colorfully clad folk were coming and going everywhere laughing, conversing deeply, and discussing their day's plans with the occasional lone person striding with purpose to some unknown destination represented diverse cultures and time periods. A herald strolled from time to time throughout the site announcing Their Royal Majesties' morning greetings, time and place where armor inspections would be held, and other information to be shared with the populace. After visiting Merchant's Row, my lord husband and I found an excellent viewpoint from which to watch the proceedings. The fighting began with the earliest contenders for the Crown being eliminated in the opening rounds. While the matches continued, hunger called us to return to camp for a mid-day meal before returning to the matches. During lunch the air cooled considerably and held the almost-metallic scent of coming rain as the clouds closed ranks. The dampness quickened as the temperature chilled one to the their bones. Still the matches continued until our next King was chosen even as the weather worsened. A fine, sharp mist hit and a cry was heard for warm bodied volunteers and extra blankets were needed at Chirurgeon's Point to aid those afflicted with hypothermia. Upon hearing this, being a good Kingdom citizen I quickly volunteered. Under a thick layering of blankets, another gentle lady and I warmed up more than one victim until he or she was well once more. The mist swiftly turned to rain and soon came down in sheets of water. Soon body warmers began losing their own body heat. Kind citizens came to the rescue and fed us all hot soups and hot drinks in their heated yurts for our restoration. Unbeknownst to us the bouts came to an end, the winner announced, and closing court speedily commenced to bestow awards and announcements. The unrelentingly inundated valley continued with wetness all around, grass was heavy with wet whilst gentles' pavilions were flooding under the deluge. After restoration to full warmth and health once more, my fellow body warmers and I ventured out in the wet again to discover the rainfall had turned to sheets of water and that the King was holding a short court to bestow awards, thank volunteers, and make the announcement that the event was now called on the count of rain. The exodus began as all made beelines to break camp and load up as hastily as possible while the valley could no longer abosrb the extra water. Those with trucks drove into the valley to load people and goods and convey them to their vehicles. Others who were ready to go in turn aided their neighbors in carting and vehicle loading. The rain kept coming down heavier as the standing water in the valley crept up higher and higher to the level of an average person's knees. There were even tall strong men carrying kids and smaller adults to higher ground for safety. Anything and everything that could be done was being done to aid the mass exodus of people to clear out of the flood water as soon as possible. I returned to our camp to do as much as I could whilst my late lord husband helped those in the valley. Having done all I could, I watched as a magical scene unfolded below me before my eyes. One that I will never truly forget. I saw the magic of An Tir as I had never seen it before that day. The crisis brought out the best in all of its citizens. It was with wonder as I watched the frantic activity resulting in campsite after campsite clearing out in a short time. For I saw An Tir at its best in the valley below that day and witnessed that the virtues of the Middle Ages still existed for I saw courtesy, chivalry, nobility, charity, compassion, and self-sacrifice alive and well on that day. May I live long enough to see it once more. The smallish round lady quietly takes a bow, thanks the audience for its attentiveness and patience, and resumes her seat to hear another storyteller spin their tale. |