My buddy Roc and I had been planning on hitting Lemonwheel for months now. Our mail orders tix were in hand, and accommodations had been made. The plan was this: Leave Dayton early on Wed, Aug 12, head to Roc’s old college, and crash with his fraternity peeps in Geneva, NY. Then, leave Geneva and drive through Canada to Maine in one shot, arriving in Limestone on the evening of Thursday, Aug 13. I’d made arrangements at a local campground to spend that night, then we'd head to the venue on the morning of Aug 14. All well and good. Except….

Our first mistake was the assumption that the Rand-McNally Trip software I’d bought for my computer was right when it said that the drive from Geneva to Limestone was to be 10 hours. But, I’ll get to that.

Wednesday, August 12 – 8:00 am – Dayton, OH.

Easy day ahead. 8 hours to Geneva. I hop in the car, gas it up, and head over to Roc’s place to pick him up. When I get there, he’s REARIN’ to go, so off we went. All in all, this was a pretty easy day, with only one minor direction flub. We were in high spirits and getting psyched by listening to LOTS of the Boys. We got to Geneva, and hooked up with his old college friends. Well, one thing led to another, and we partied like damn rock stars. 

Roc got it into his head to get a few of the people to say that I was an old-school alum (I’d never even BEEN there), just to mess with people. I was game. BIG mistake. Those people we decided to mess with decided to play a rousing game of “Trash the Alum.” By the end of the evening, I was almost passed out on the steps to the house where we were crashing… Not feeling well. Yikes.

Thursday, August 13 – 9:00 am – Geneva, NY.

I was dead asleep on the couch, Roc snuck downstairs into the room I was in and cranked on a line-dancing video that had been lying around to start my day off. I about shit myself. And, like that, we launched northward to Canada for our “10-hour drive,” with me hung over like never before.

The first glitch was the US-Canada border. The guy took one look at our car, packed to the gills and covered in stickers, and pulled us right over. One hour lost right there, due to the search. Afterwards, we headed off into Canada. Things were progressing just fine until we hit Montreal. At rush hour. In the summer. With construction. IN FRENCH! We ended up missing a turn on the highway and spent the next three hours lost in suburban Montreal, desperately trying to find our way to the highway.

Right about now, as we finally hit the highway at 6:00 pm (remember, we had a campsite reserved that evening in Limestone), Roc tells me he feels really bad – his hives started to act up, and they were making him really woozy and lightheaded. The upshot? I’d have to drive all the way.

Rural Quebec is very flat and lonely. It’s not for the faint of heart at night. Finally, FINALLY, we hit New Brunswick, at something like 1:00 am. We had told our wives that we’d call when we hit Limestone at about 6 or 7. This is where Rand-McNally LIED!. We had to wait to call from the States, so we just kept plugging away at the miles. Eventually, we knew we were close to the crossing we were going to take. We stopped at a gas station/convenience store and talked to some other headie-types and headed off again, for the final leg.

About 50 feet out, we noticed something odd. Our headlights weren’t working. They had been working just a few minutes before. We pulled over, and checked it out. For the life of us, we just couldn’t figure it out! All the wires were connected, the switch was on, everything! As Roc looked at the lights, I crawled under the dash, and checked the fuses. Evidently, I bumped the high beam switch, and nearly blinded Roc. We had LIGHT! Off we went, pissing off everyone on the road!

We made it to the town with the crossing at the VERY northern tip of Maine. We were almost there! We were all alone on the highway, Roc asleep next to me, and I passed a car on the side of the road. Out of instinct, I checked speed, seat belts, etc. All good. Well, sure enough, on come the lights. We got pulled over by two of New Brunswick’s finest. Now, to their credit, they were VERY nice and respectful. We were just really bushed by this point. They had us wait by the side of the road while they got a dog out. We weren’t stupid enough to bring anything, so we weren’t worried. We all chatted about Phish, the drive, Lemonwheel, etc. They seemed very interested.

After they let us go, we crossed the border ASAP. Oh, this crossing? It took two minuets total! No sweat. Finally, we were in Maine! Almost there. About one hour south, and we’d figure out what to do then (as we were sure our campground was long gone) – maybe find a Denny’s or something. So, at the first pay phone we saw, we woke up our wives at 2:00 am. They were relieved, and we were again off into the night. Into the late Maine night. Into the FOGGY, late Maine night! WITH ONLY HIGH BEAMS!

By this time, we were gone. Our sense of reason was out the window, and we were giggling at everything due to sheer exhaustion. We couldn’t see ANYTHING except fog, and a little bit of the road. At this point, Roc popped in a tape with “Fog That Surrounds,” and we just laughed and laughed!!!

After about an hour, we started scanning on 88.9 for Went Radio. Then, slowly, seemingly out of the mist, we started to hear something. We crested a hill, and at that moment, the radio blared out Went Radio clearly, and we saw the lights of the venue! WE’D MADE IT!!!

We decided to hit the campground, figuring maybe, just maybe, there’d be something that could be done. We got there and it was deserted of staff. Damn. We drove up to the office and I saw a flyer attached to the door. I hopped out of the car to check it out. It said: “Welcome! Just grab a spot and we’ll settle it up in the morning!” Cool, thought I. I read on, “Or, alternatively, they opened the concert site early at 10 pm, so you can go there, too.” They weren’t supposed to open until 9:00 am the next morning! WOO HOO!

We hit the line of cars and waited to get it. At this time of night, it wasn’t all that bad. Finally, we got in. I will remember this until the day I die. After we got those wristbands (that I still have), the guy pointed us along the flight line and said, “Go grab a spot. You made it. Welcome home.” Roc and I were speechless with joy!

Finally, at 6:00 am, we had set up our tents and taken a walk around the camping area. It wasn’t even half full yet. After a brief walk and a quick chill in front of the tents, we climbed into our respective tents and passed out until mid-day.

Lemonwheel began for us. The drive home? That is another story entirely!

 - Adam Dickson