4 PM park in lot 380, walk over to the stadium
4:15 PM Queued up to head in, at least a couple hundred people in front of us
line is in the shade, yay, but it's impossible to hear Soundcheck… It's all just unintelligible thumping noise from this side of the stadium
folks are more smashed in than usual… As if they expect to go in any second, even though the line won't be moving for awhile. Silly kids!
just after 5 PM the line starts moving… It's a fiasco. I try not to freak out. No point getting upset about events outside your control.
racing as much as possible, I break through, and end up down on the floor a couple minutes ahead of Ting. No love up front at first, but things work out eventually… Major props to Greg Fogle for giving me the thumbs up. Just exactly perfect now, dead center, 15' back.
the late afternoon sun is blazing hot, and it's amazing how much nicer it is when tiny clouds move across it's face. Little by little, the clouds grow thicker and darker. Tut tut, piglet, it looks like rain!
By the time show starts, the sky is rather dark and ominous, but with the limited sky slice from my spot down in front, it's hard to know how much the darkness is just typical evening light versus something created by storm-clouds.
It begins to sprinkle during NFA, and as the rain intensity increases, we begin to cover up. Major props to Ger for encouraging us to bring rain gear! A few minutes into Cold, Rain & Snow, Bobby steps up to the mic to announce that the show is being put on weather hold, and the stage is quickly evacuated while the crew cover up the gear. Further announcements (made over the stadium PA instead of the show PA?) are completely unintelligible to us: think of pronouncements from Charlie Brown's teacher. Later on, we hear that the message was the same as that posted on the giant video screen at the back of the stadium, something to the effect of “Seek shelter! More bad weather coming in!”
* Huge numbers of folks from the stands stream up and into the field house and other structures, but down on the floor the situation is not so rosy. Getting out of the weather isn't an easy option, so we shelter in place, huddling under a small tarp/blanket brought in by Greg. Many folks are not so well prepared, and they get soaked. My lower back and butt are damp where the waterproofing on my coat has worn away, and my front is wet from leaving the coat open instead of zipping it shut. My feet are completely soaked, but happily, the rain isn't too cold, and we're mostly spared from the cold gusts that must be pushing the clouds around up above.
When sheets of water being pouring onto us off the stage roof we relocate our huddle about ten feet further back, moving against the aluminum walkway for a small bit of additional shelter. It beings to hail, and when a piece strikes me on the index finger at the base of my fingernail, I yelp in surprise and drop my hold on the tarp. Didn't see that one coming!
Fortunately, the storm soon tapers off, and while there are intermittent gusts of cold air and short periods of additional rain, it's nothing compared to the short storm front that shut down the show.
We wait. And wait. And wait some more.
Eventually some anonymous mucky-muck grants the all-clear, and the show resumes. Yay! We dance on through to the end of the allotted time.
Pumpkin says we got an extra 20 minutes as a consignment to the weather.
I'm reasonably happy about the outcome. I wouldn't elect to experience the same thing again, but as part of my on-going Grateful Dead adventure, I'm sure the event will become part of the lore for future camp fire tales.