Less than 36 hours after returning from Red Rocks, Max, Mike and I hopped in Sam's Ford Explorer for a 1,000 mile drive to Wisconsin to complete the rest of Phish's summer tour of 1996. We did the entire thing in one shot, crashing at Shawn's place outside of Chicago. The first show, on August 10th, was in East Troy, WI, at the famous Alpine Valley -- the same venue the Dead recorded their live movie, "It's all Downhill From Here." The traffic was awful, but the show was magnificent. A solid second set was highlighted with a hilarious cover of the Allman Brother's Whipping Post, courtesy Mr. Jon Fishman. My first Contact was appropriate for my 25th show after driving my longest stretch (at that point) to see Phish.

After the show, we sought out  "Bong Recreation Park," a Wisconsin camping facility recommended by the Phish information packet. Arriving at its gates, we  pulled up behind an SUV that was being searched by policemen with flashlights and rubber gloves. Two Phishheads were sitting beside their car, with their heads hanging down and their cuffed hands laying in their laps. As a state-owned park, visitors were entitled to be searched. We hightailed out of the state as fast as possible, finding a sketchy Knight's Inn many hours later.

The first of the two shows at Deer Creek was a peculiar concert. Three personal debuts in the first set (Weigh, Dog Faced Boy and Oh Kee Pa), but weak versions of all of them and a flubbed Suzy to close. The second set wasn't much better for me except maybe for a ripping Antelope. The encore, Sample in a Jar, seemed appropriate. We found a nearby camp called Shady Acres and set up our new home, Sam's yellow North Face tent connected to Max's old brown Italian one. (He's Italian, so his tent must be). Unlike the quiet, woodsy camp in Indiana, this was private land full of phish fans. Some dude with a lot of land overcharges kids to sleep on his lawn, no cops allowed. Nitrous tanks hissed through the night, venders of all sorts displayed their wares freely, and a band rocked 'til sunrise. Below left, Mike cooks up breakfast for the entire campground, making great gas money. Below right, Sam chucks marshmallows at me after grocery shopping.

Getting from Noblesville, IN to Hershey, PA for the next show was a difficult task. We had to drive across Ohio (Ohio is very big), and Hershey is on the other side of Pennsylvania. Once at Hershey, we got stuck in awful traffic, causing us to miss Adam, Andrew and Mara, as well as the show's first two songs. It's hard enough to get into a show after missing its start, but that night, Phish didn't help. The venue was awful, with awful sound to boot (to boot). Phish played an extremely standard show, with the single exception of Fishman's comedic covering of Neil Diamond's Cracklin' Rosie, which Sam had somehow predicted. After the show, we all met up and headed off to King of Prussia, PA, to follow Trey's direction.
 

During my fifth show at the Hershey Park Arena, Trey gave a wonderful narration explaining Gamehendge and giving directions to its center, the rhombus in King of Prussia. At the time, I didn't understand, unaware that King of Prussia was the name of a city in Pennsylvania. Listening to the show on tape later, my friends and I agreed a sojourn to Gamehendge was in order.  We drove on back roads through the middle of the night and found Wilson Road, as described by Trey. We followed it to its end to a park with a small playground. We cruised the area, finding Phish references all over the place. An enormous electric tower lurked over the playground, creating an ominous atmosphere. With huge electric legs straddling the park and arm stretching high above, I was convinced the tower was the inspiration for AC/DC bag. The park was a small scale version of Trey's imaginative fairytale; we had found Gamehendge.

Wandering the eerie park, I envisioned Trey and Tom Marshall tripping out, fantasizing Gamehendge and its story. At the end of a clearing was a gazebo which appeared to be mysteriously floating. Its supports were hidden by telephone poles, and the dark silhouette of the top of the gazebo created a black rhombus which seemed to hover over the park.  We could have been completely off, but it all made sense to us that night. And in my mind, that's all that matters. We drove home and made in to New York by sunrise. Max took the photo to the right while we unload the Explorer, ending the tour. In front of Sam and Max's apartment on Broadway, Mike dumps old cooler water and moldy American cheese while Adam, me (wearing a hat), Sam and Andrew look on.