No tickets, Plan B. Dirtboy was an acoustic genius in his days and located the ideal spot to hear an outdoor show, besides inside, during soundcheck. So we went to move the car down here and we set up camp, feasted on the magic fungus and settled in for a glorious sunsetting Fluffhead. It was really nice, lots o space to dance. eventually a scene developed of the numerous kids who were left out.

Set break. Now the back of this venue was right in front of us. A 40 yard incline to a wall with doors in it was all that stood between us and the band. easy, except for the aggro-guards, some of whom actually sported BATS!! During the break many kids broke for it and several made it in with help form the random doors that would fling open. Things escalated, and settled over and over. We just sort of observed at this point. 

Second set was chill, but I think Kesey's antics sparked the crowd to a near riot. Toward the end of the set more kids started breaking for the gate. All the action sort of centered around an area about 50 yards down from where we were.  All of a sudden, on the hill, in a gap of guard and mob, a door flew open, revealing a shining soul waving ME in. And I grabbed Carrie's Hand and bolted. I think I nearly dragged her up that hill while surely breaking my all time 40 yard dash time taboot. Untouched, we were in. And we lost our shit for two encore songs. 

I never danced to Bouncin like that before or since. This was the birth of the "Gate Crashing Gazelles," a faction that would penetrate ticket checks from the Philly Folk Fest, To Cleveland, To V Beach. And I like to think that old Dirty didn't have to crash heaven's gate to get in, but you gotta do what you gotta do!

- scarymonster

Editor's Note: That was a sick show indeed.  Ken Kesey bugged me out a little bit, but it was definitely one of my all-time favorites.