If Prince George covertly hosts a litany of electronic music fiestas, then let me in on the secret! Until then, here stands the evidence that such things actually exist in this fair outpost.
Instead of hiding in the dark recesses of an icy winter’s pitch dark, the party kicked off @ noon on February 22nd. Busses picked up the guests all over town, then deposited them into an icy specter, an island of imagination, a Mid-Winter’s Dream.
Not a worry, nor care, polluted the freewheeling spirits populating the party. The hot cacao cascaded from the brim to the dregs and chilli combusted in the bellies of the cold. As twilight fell upon the electric village, flashes of strobe lights and bonfires glinted off the blades of skates as they carved rhythms into the frozen pond.
A wicked wind wound its way to Prince George that evening and dropped the temperature to below -20ºC. The dancing went on, unperturbed, as DJs bounced beats from the Barn’s porch. As the mercury dropped the dance floor became progressively more popular, as the preferred way to warm up.
Around this time, two weary EDM junkies drifted into the temporary Neverland. The pair had missed the announcements pertaining to bus schedules and pick up locations. Such information found its way to most invites, but some folks, you just can’t reach. Though the duo had honest intentions of arriving onto the scene of a Mid-Winter’s Dream, they soon realized their awaken state in the gritty city. That aside, a sympathetic voyager listened in on their plight at a local café and interrupted the sorrow. This serendipitous navigator steered us through the fog of uncertainty all the way to the mythical farm just short of the YXS airport. The ætherial emissary went by the name of Penelope. She had just moved from Ontario to beautiful Prince George, BC, and had already begun to spread her goodwill. What luck to have come across such a beautiful stranger during such a daft predicament, and then to walk out of it into such a surreal plane.
After moving past the weapons-and-alcohol-free gates, Superman’s Lair caught my spangled eyes.
While spelunking through Superman’s Lair, I began to comprehend the gist of this event as the cave deepened: unassociated, hypnagogic, free, and fun. The needle-like sound of electro pierced these ideas and strung them together forming a veil we could all hide behind together, if at least for one night. Nothing could have driven this home harder than Superman's personal art collection, which included a life size Gummy Bear sculpture. The smell of smoke drifted within the veil’s protection, and I sniffed it out near the Lair’s maw.
A bonfire. Not one, but two! It takes a Superhuman to dance all night, hence the lair, but if someone needs a break and still wants to keep warm, a fire offers the perfect solution. The temperature also afforded a great excuse to wear an excessively fuzzy hat.
We could have spent all night on that farmyard growing like a crop of electric dancing icicles. Instead a fleet of busses arrived and took us out to the enchanted Blackburn Community Hall.
Dancers peeled off multiple layers once they arrived inside. Stacks of speakers sprayed their songs onto a pool of once coy dancers. The action glowed under an array of black-lights, and dream-catchers refracting any tension into psychedelic energy. Smells of samosas began to waft from the kitchen. The bar opened simultaneously. Much joy and relief washed over the parched, hungry, crowd.
Robots came and went. Beats transitioned in and out of funk, house, techno, and groove. DJs mingled as Vikings berserked. Dancers danced. Busses came and went. Those with sufficient foresight strategized their drop-off locations, or simply pre-registered with a bus to drop them off at their homes. The party wrapped up right on time to catch Gold Medal hockey match at 3a.m.
I drifted off on the bus and missed the downtown stop to catch the hockey game. Probably for the best anyway. I managed to get a hot chocolate at Timmy’s and hitch my way home in time to catch the game still engaged in first period excitement. Drifting off on the couch, every thought I accessed came up positively glowing. The luck carried on through the game as we snatched Olympic glory from the Eastern reaches of Russian Crimea.
What to do on a Prince George Saturday night…