After the ‘beach’ we headed back to the city (stumbling past a very nice lesbian wedding with two beautiful brides in dresses on our way out of the Samammish). On a whim we decided to check out the much lauded, frequently touted, wonderfully free, Hempfest. As soon as we got downtown we followed the packs of stoners wearing fake marijuana leaf leis, bikers wearing chaps, and hippies in organic clothing towards the mouth of the Sculpture Garden. In very organized fashion the city’s law enforcement had created one ‘in’ and one ‘out’ entrance for the festival. We shuffled like cows through a maze of gates, the mood cheery and bright.

The maze opened up, bright and sunny to a GIGANTIC festival. Covering three parks, Hempfest was long and narrow, flanked by the Puget Sound and the railroad tracks. It was 5:30pm and scorchingly hot. Everyone was there: Disabled people rallying for medical marijuana, sign language interpreters standing on the music stages translating, pregnant women looking hot and bothered, people with dreadlocks coiled on their heads and drums on their backs were followed by teenagers looking for weed behind the dumpsters. Food booths covered the lawn, packs of people were splayed out on the grass, a really fantastic Guns And Roses cover band was screaming on one of the mainstages. Teenagers walked around with freshly purchased bongs wrapped repeatedly in bubble wrap. It reminded me a little bit of what Folk Life used to be back in the 90’s–all drum circles, interesting people, and earthy food. But this festival really contained an edge, a feeling of danger that I can’t really put my finger on.

“Where is Rick Steves?” I wondered. Turns out we had missed him by an hour. Booth after booth pleaded us to take political action, sign a petition, rally for the masses. The cover band was replaced by an activist yelling about the injustice of our country, how she had taken her right to smoke medicinal marijuana all the way up to the highest court and lost. People pumped their fists feebly in the air and uttered a breathy, “Yeeeaah!” in support of the cause.

After walking around for an hour and gaping, Josh and I went to the water’s edge to cool off. I waded down the rocks to dunk my feet, and I swear, everywhere I looked people were calmly smoking out. People were discreet, no one was waving it around in anyone’s face, the naughtiness was delightful. I looked out at the Puget Sound and watched an Argosy cruise boat filled with tourists slowly putter by.

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