Get off work, arrive at the Bouquet-Boise's latest and greatest hip-hop funk offering-Kamphire Collective is due up soon. Order a drink, maybe two and the weekend is on, on like Donkey Kong. The Collective kicks off a musical and cirrhotic journey in fine style. No sleep tonight, little the next day, as there are too many miles to cover and too many road sodas to consume. Arrive, set up camp at the sunny, desolate and beautiful Gorge-this is possibly your last moment of clarity. Too many stories, and you've heard them all before: "You just had to be there ... what happens at Sasquatch, stays at Sasquatch." The sounds of 7 a.m. shots of scotch with the ghost of Johnny Cash wake you from your abbreviated and inebriated slumber. Zip the door and join the fun. The show starts at noon, plenty of time for fully clothed co-ed communal cold showers. Countless hours later you hear, "Show, what show, the beer's here," with far too much conviction. It's time to go. Arcade Fire greets you at the gates. Game on. Bands worth your price of admission: The Be Good Tanyas; Modest Mouse; Bobby Bare Jr.; Matisyahu (they really rocked the house); Kanye West and if the devil is six, and god is seven, then the Pixies are six and a half. Over your word limit and toxic, you sign off, knowing that reality creeps nigh.