The Shambhala Experience

Being invited to Christina lake for a week with my friend Frazier and his family was a dream come true for me, but I had no idea what was to come. When I left home I had no idea that I would be sneaking into one of Canada's largest music festivals with no money, tent, or friends and living for four days. Or how my family would be calling the Royal Canadian Mounted Police because I was "missing" and my mom thinking I was dead. Or that I would be hitch hiking with no money across Canada for three day's a beautiful girl by my side. It all started when my good friend Frazier invited me for a week of "relaxation," well a little of that, but mostly random. Arriving to the lake, I finally began to see what he had been talking about all these years, in the summer sun, Christina Lake is perfect in every way. Its warm, clean, with cliffs to jump, and beaches to lie. The lake is nestled within the Kootenay Rockies located in the South Eastern part of British Columbia, Canada. The Kootenay's stretch from the Okanagan valley in the west to the boarder of Alberta in the East. I was awe struck and fell in love with the Kootenay's by the end of my week and a half adventure, for many reason's, I want nothing more then to go back as soon as possible.

I spent five day's enjoying the lake with Frazier and his brother Jensen, and his Cousin Spencer spending our day's swimming, looking for cool girls to hang out with, and borrowing the Internet in the parking lot of the local cafe. We became idol's to the kids next door because of our diving board skills including dives and flips, and our willingness to watch them do their dance routines. They seemed to be able to bring out the kid in us, not wanting anything more then to enjoy swimming, running, and laughing. Our first night we meandered our way to one of the neighbor's houses and learned of a music festival called Shambhala, and how it was going to be taking place in the next few days. Instantly, I began to inquire about the details and try to figure out what it was all about. I soon learn that on the Salmo River Ranch a city of over eleven thousand people appears and goes on for five days. This planted a seed in me that was soon to blossom into a full blown plan on how we were going to get in. Over the next couple of days I learned a little bit more about the festival from their website and from the locals. Every time it came up I heard more, and became more and more interested.

Here's where the real story begins. The tickets to Shambhala had been sold out for some time, so we knew that we couldn't pay for tickets, that and they were really expensive even if we could scalp them. The festival was to begin Friday morning, so by late Thursday afternoon we had a plan. After a bit of research and studying the Google map, we decided on the best option. The plan was to drive the 100 kilometer's or so, bring a raft, and float down the river to where it connects to the festival, which I come to find out a few days later, is nearly impossible. We knew that there would be know way through the front gate with the super tight security on their AT V's patrolling. We had the plan and so now it was go time. We headed back to the cabin from the parking lot of Cafe with it's Internet, packed our bags, checked the rafts durability and we were off. Frazier opted not to go along on this escapade, even after I tried hard to convince him it being a solid plan. Next thing you know, Jensen, Spencer and I are headed toward Shambhala, not knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

We made it within a few kilometer's from where we needed to be to try to float the river, and then we hit a road block, literally! The Royal Mounted Police had a road block set up, looking for people with drugs and open alcohol. I thought we had nothing to worry about so I was very nonchalant and relaxed sitting in the back seat. That ended abruptly when the police man noticed an open beer can in the cup holder. "Oh no!" we had totally forgot that before we left the cabin Jensen had opened and drank a beer and accidentally set it in the car as we were leaving. To make things worse, Spencer had no proof of insurance, which we come to find out is a seven hundred dollar ticket if enforced. So here we are, within walking distance from where we wanted to go, standing on the side of the road while our car is being searched for drugs. After a few minutes the police decide they weren't going to give us a ticket for the no insurance, just the open container, which was two hundred and something dollars. Also, they decided that we couldn't drive the car until we get proof of insurance, this was a problem because when the Tow truck driver arrived he told us that he couldn't tow us to the town of Salmo because there was supposedly we couldn't be dropped off on public property, only private and he knew of no place in town, bunch of hog wash if you asked us. Luckily he didn't have the right truck to tow the car, and so another guy came along and told us we could be dropped off at his brothers mechanic shop in town. So here we are, headed to some town we'd never heard of, where hopefully they had and Internet connection so that we could print off the proof of insurance that we needed so we could continue on to Shambhala. By this point moral between the Spencer and Jensen was dwindling faster then Jensen's bank account. Between paying for the tow and the ticket Jens was now roughly four hundred dollars in the hole. I on the other hand, couldn't be more focused on what we were going to do next so that we could make it to the river before dark.

Luckily, we made our way to a local grocery store owned by the nicest family that I have ever met, whom helped got on the ball and printed off the insurance that we needed. The owners son actually called his sister who was at home down the street, had her print off the insurance info, and road her twenty one speed mountain bike at high speed to the store where we met her with complete gratitude. After about an hour of learning about the town of Salmo and being entertained by this family and their enthusiasm, we headed to a local restaurant where we could get some food. Sitting at the table talking with Spencer and Jensen I realized their focus was gone and they were thinking about turning around. As usual, I got into my persuasion mode and began my speech trying to change their minds around. I enthusiastically begin, "We have made it sixty miles, spent four hundred dollars and are within two miles of the festival and you guys are thinking about turning around?" I exclaim disappointingly. I knew that this was the crux, and we had to push forward. I go on, "This is that moment where one makes a decision, a decision to push on and see where it will take us, or time to give up home!" I was not about to give up, not after coming this far. After a few more minutes of convincing I had finally got them both to agree that we should at least try to make our way to the parking lot of the festival to hopefully hang out at least with some other people that didn't have tickets and were trying to make it in just as we were, this included going back through the road block, but now we were legitimate. It was getting dark quick and therefore was to late to try float the river so this was the next best option I determined.



Here we go, we were back on the road and I was more determined to get into Shambhala then George Bush was to to invade Iraq in 2002. We take the turn to drive down the long gravel road to take us to the festival which is where the first security check was. Spencer had come up with the genius idea to tell the security guard that we got pulled over and towed back to Salmo to make him feel sorry for us and then Spencer continued on to explain that we were meeting our friends at the main gate at the end of the road because we were running late. It worked, we couldn't believe it! One more bullet dodged, which would be the first of many. As one could imagine, we are excited, and I'm high is a kite on sheer adrenalin. Arriving at the gate was like landing on the moon, and now all we had to do was figure out how to get past the tight security. We park the car, walk up to security, and explain our situation. We go on to tell the guy on the ATV that our friends are in the festival and that we tried calling them but had no service. He then let us continue on to wait for the "friends" to arrive to give us our tickets. By this time I had already began befriending the next security guard knowing that it couldn't hurt. Spencer and Jensen became bored and soon wanted to head back to the car for the night to wait for the next day so they could try floating the river so then they left. I wasn't about to give up, I wanted in. Next thing I knew I had made friends with a whole group of people that had for some reason left the festival and were hanging out by the gate. They took me in as one of their own and when I explained that I had no ticket and no idea how i was going to get in, they felt bad. As they got up to go back in, I followed like a lost puppy dog, in the hope that maybe there was a possibility I could just sneak in unnoticed in the group. The security guard I was talking to earlier wasn't paying attention so I slipped pass her, and now I only had one more guard in between me and the time of my life. As the guard checked every body's wrist bands, I strategically walked on the outside of the group and then it I heard a, "hey!" geared toward me, but I kept walking. It was late and so the guard lazily assumed that I must have a wrist band because everybody else had one, genius. Almost in slow motion, and complete shock, I was now walking towards the loudest bass I have ever heard along with the coolest lasers shooting in the sky as if they were directed to me beaming me home. I had made it in. Sheer determinism, luck, and sneakiness were to thank.



As I walked toward the music I thought to myself, I need a long sleeve shirt and quickly or else I would be caught because I didn't have a wrist band. Thankfully, my new friend Ryan, who looks like a mix between Jerry Garcia and Tommy Chong let me borrow his long sleeve shirt, perfect! I was set, sort of. All I had was what I was wearing- a shirt, long sleeve shirt, swimming shorts, and sandals. I would be wearing this for four days, by the end of everything was a little dirty to say the least. I stayed awake the whole first night meeting people, discovering new places within the festival, and dancing. A lot of dancing. There were five main stages, the main two were the Fractal forest and Village. Between these two stages lay a maze of trails that were easy to get lost in, mentally and physically. I spent the next four days living in this new place with a ton of new great people. I became a local over a couple days, and by the end of it I was sharing some really cool spots that I had found, like the Water sanctuary, and trails for running. On the last day I had a bunch of fruit that had been gifted to me and decided that I should give some of it away so I began walking around giving apples and oranges away as gifts. I just so happened to offer one of the Oranges to Amanda who within minutes we had decided it would be a good idea to hitch hike together west together toward Vancouver BC.



Shambhala and the eleven thousand residents really changed my view of festivals like these. Over the years I have known so many people that have been very dismissive and not understand why these "hippies" go to big festivals like these, but I now understand in a big way, maybe because I am more of a hippie now myself, I feel hip anyway. For four days I lived in my swim shorts, tee shirt, and a sweat shirt which was getting a little old. I had to wear the sweat shirt even though it was hot because I didn't have a wrist band, but once I got a wrist band that my friend Ryan gave to me from one of his friends that was leaving I instantly was revitalized and ready to party. Instantly, I jumped off a ten foot embankment into the river, which was only a few feet deep, started playing jamming out everywhere I went, and danced for hours painted from head to toe. I would have to say this was one of the highlights for sure, I love dancing, and this was the first time but not the last that I would be painted from head to toe, it was great. I am what they call a Shambhalifer because I will go probably every year here on out As the festival ended, I didn't want to leave and thought about trying to get everybody together to try to figure out how we could live off the land and not have to go home. These are the types of thoughts that enter into my head as a result of living at Shambhala for five days, a little crazy, but cool non the less. The whole time I never met one bad person, and connected with many new friends that I will remember forever.


Amanda and I were ready to start heading west and so now we were off. We got picked up by a guy who was coming down off of MD MA and was being a little to forward with Amanda, so I put him in his place by being like, "Dude, you are coming down from ecstasy and need to calm down it's not cool!" he replies with, "I know, I just messed up my chance with a girl that I met and I'm a little sad about it, sorry man." and just like that he was cool again, and we were all good. By the time he dropped us off at a town called Roseland which is a major winter skiing destination we had another good friend and he actually gave us forty dollars for a hostel for the night because he knew we didn't have any money. I actually ran out of money about a week before all this when I was back in Christina lake, so I had nothing. This is what I do while I travel, I only bring a certain amount with me because I don't want to spend a bunch of money while I travel, this way it's more of an adventure as well. We ended up staying in a hostel in town which was perfect because it poured that night and we would have been drenched if we would have slept outside. It was nice to take a shower in the hostel as well because by this point it had been probably six days since I had taken a real shower. This is what happens being a vagabond and not having any money.