News (Media Awareness Project) - US AZ: Liberty hangs loose in Arizona forest |
Title: | US AZ: Liberty hangs loose in Arizona forest |
Published On: | 1998-10-07 |
Source: | San Jose Mercury News (CA) |
Fetched On: | 2008-09-07 06:42:51 |
LIBERTY HANGS LOOSE IN ARIZONA FOREST
RAINBOW GATHERING TRIBE TINTINNABULATES WITH DRUMS, B.O., BLISS
CARNERO LAKE, Ariz. -- To those who call it Weirdstock, the 27th Gathering
of the Tribes for World Peace and Healing is a freaky, funky, smelly
assemblage of anarchists, Druids, tree-worshiping pagans and hippies.
But to the 20,000 Rainbow Family members camped in Apache-Sitgreaves
National Forest, their Fourth of July event is about living without
interference on what is, after all, public land.
And to the U.S. Forest Service, the conclave is a significant environmental
impact across 1,100 acres, a critical mass of unlawfulness and an illegal
use of national land.
The Rainbows, as they have for 25 summers, greet an assortment of armed
officers with smiles, offers of herbal tea and dogma heavily reminiscent of
the founding fathers' cry for personal freedom. Allen Firesong, veteran of
20 such gatherings, said, ``It's the energy of the people . . . You have to
experience it to know what it's all about. It's an experiment in living
peacefully together. To have everybody fed, everybody happy, treat
everyone's feelings so that they are valuable and important.''
Members arrived as early as mid-June, scouting the forest to settle on a
site at the 9,000-foot elevation, near the Arizona-New Mexico border. Now,
it has a dozen kitchens, a mud-oven bakery, medical tent, lost-and-found,
outgoing mail and message center. There is a media tent, and a
sophisticated system of radio checkpoints by which the highly vigilant
security wardens watch ``front and back doors.''
Clothing is optional, sex is free, weapons and hard drugs are banned and
the air is dense with the fragrance of marijuana, incense, dust, and
pungent body odor. Trails connect Teepee Camp, Barbarian Camp (for teens),
Kiddie Camp (swings and puppet shows) and A Camp (for alcohol use).
According to Rainbow Rap 151 -- one of the gathering guidelines -- ``It is
the tradition in our family to discourage alcohol use at the gathering. The
gathering is a prayer and peace sanctuary, not a tailgate party.''
But, ever-inclusive, the family allows A Camp, at the edge of camp.
The Forest Service national incident team, formed last year to handle the
Rainbows, is there too. The gathering is the largest single recreational
user of federal forests, its camp the largest city, by far, in Apache County.
While their presence without a permit is challenged in U.S. district court,
the Rainbows protest with high-flown rhetoric that they have a right to
peaceable assembly, especially on the Fourth of July.
``Ya know, when I was at home for the Fourth,'' said a 21-year-old Arkansan
called Never, ``we never talked about what the holiday was about. Here, we
are celebrating what it is to live here (in America) . . . our freedoms.''
The Rainbow Tribe's decades-long battle with authorities encompasses:
Traffic -- 4,000 vehicles this year. Yet Rainbows complain the police
harassed them, issuing scores of citations and using vehicle stops to
search for drugs.
Garbage -- some 25 tons, all of which the family collects and disposes of.
Trash is bagged, much recycled, and even the Forest Service admits the
group has an exemplary record for cleaning up.
Water, or the lack of it, has family members importing it daily and
``borrowing'' from a local spring. Officials say local businesses removed
handles from outdoor taps to prevent Rainbows from stealing water; tribal
folk say locals give them water.
Dogs -- an estimated one per three humans. After last year's gathering in
Oregon, 100 dogs were abandoned.
Fires -- With an ban on open fires in effect, Rainbow fire wardens prowl
the site in search of violations. Storms raise fire danger, and forest
officials fear lightning-sparked blazes. Generally, the fire regulations
have been observed. Late one night, though, an unauthorized fire had to be
smothered: Drowsy fire wardens were making coffee.
Environment -- With no bathrooms for 20,000 Rainbows, the latrines cause
concern about groundwater contamination. Rangers say the ground, compacted
by foot traffic, will take a year to recover. Rainbows say they minimize
impact on trails and re-seed meadows.
Through it all, the vast, leaderless Rainbow collective's philosophy of
``whatever'' prevails. Tim, a seller of tie-dyed clothing, said the younger
folks must learn the spiritual and philosophical underpinnings: ``It's
misconstrued as a party by some of the younger people,'' he said, passing
some scantily clad dancers.
Through the drumming and chanting, ``you can feel a sense of God, you can
feel the power,'' Tim said. ``There have been a lot of positive changes
brought by people who come to places like this and were able to get out of
their personal situations long enough to take a look at the bigger picture.''
Checked-by: Mike Gogulski
RAINBOW GATHERING TRIBE TINTINNABULATES WITH DRUMS, B.O., BLISS
CARNERO LAKE, Ariz. -- To those who call it Weirdstock, the 27th Gathering
of the Tribes for World Peace and Healing is a freaky, funky, smelly
assemblage of anarchists, Druids, tree-worshiping pagans and hippies.
But to the 20,000 Rainbow Family members camped in Apache-Sitgreaves
National Forest, their Fourth of July event is about living without
interference on what is, after all, public land.
And to the U.S. Forest Service, the conclave is a significant environmental
impact across 1,100 acres, a critical mass of unlawfulness and an illegal
use of national land.
The Rainbows, as they have for 25 summers, greet an assortment of armed
officers with smiles, offers of herbal tea and dogma heavily reminiscent of
the founding fathers' cry for personal freedom. Allen Firesong, veteran of
20 such gatherings, said, ``It's the energy of the people . . . You have to
experience it to know what it's all about. It's an experiment in living
peacefully together. To have everybody fed, everybody happy, treat
everyone's feelings so that they are valuable and important.''
Members arrived as early as mid-June, scouting the forest to settle on a
site at the 9,000-foot elevation, near the Arizona-New Mexico border. Now,
it has a dozen kitchens, a mud-oven bakery, medical tent, lost-and-found,
outgoing mail and message center. There is a media tent, and a
sophisticated system of radio checkpoints by which the highly vigilant
security wardens watch ``front and back doors.''
Clothing is optional, sex is free, weapons and hard drugs are banned and
the air is dense with the fragrance of marijuana, incense, dust, and
pungent body odor. Trails connect Teepee Camp, Barbarian Camp (for teens),
Kiddie Camp (swings and puppet shows) and A Camp (for alcohol use).
According to Rainbow Rap 151 -- one of the gathering guidelines -- ``It is
the tradition in our family to discourage alcohol use at the gathering. The
gathering is a prayer and peace sanctuary, not a tailgate party.''
But, ever-inclusive, the family allows A Camp, at the edge of camp.
The Forest Service national incident team, formed last year to handle the
Rainbows, is there too. The gathering is the largest single recreational
user of federal forests, its camp the largest city, by far, in Apache County.
While their presence without a permit is challenged in U.S. district court,
the Rainbows protest with high-flown rhetoric that they have a right to
peaceable assembly, especially on the Fourth of July.
``Ya know, when I was at home for the Fourth,'' said a 21-year-old Arkansan
called Never, ``we never talked about what the holiday was about. Here, we
are celebrating what it is to live here (in America) . . . our freedoms.''
The Rainbow Tribe's decades-long battle with authorities encompasses:
Traffic -- 4,000 vehicles this year. Yet Rainbows complain the police
harassed them, issuing scores of citations and using vehicle stops to
search for drugs.
Garbage -- some 25 tons, all of which the family collects and disposes of.
Trash is bagged, much recycled, and even the Forest Service admits the
group has an exemplary record for cleaning up.
Water, or the lack of it, has family members importing it daily and
``borrowing'' from a local spring. Officials say local businesses removed
handles from outdoor taps to prevent Rainbows from stealing water; tribal
folk say locals give them water.
Dogs -- an estimated one per three humans. After last year's gathering in
Oregon, 100 dogs were abandoned.
Fires -- With an ban on open fires in effect, Rainbow fire wardens prowl
the site in search of violations. Storms raise fire danger, and forest
officials fear lightning-sparked blazes. Generally, the fire regulations
have been observed. Late one night, though, an unauthorized fire had to be
smothered: Drowsy fire wardens were making coffee.
Environment -- With no bathrooms for 20,000 Rainbows, the latrines cause
concern about groundwater contamination. Rangers say the ground, compacted
by foot traffic, will take a year to recover. Rainbows say they minimize
impact on trails and re-seed meadows.
Through it all, the vast, leaderless Rainbow collective's philosophy of
``whatever'' prevails. Tim, a seller of tie-dyed clothing, said the younger
folks must learn the spiritual and philosophical underpinnings: ``It's
misconstrued as a party by some of the younger people,'' he said, passing
some scantily clad dancers.
Through the drumming and chanting, ``you can feel a sense of God, you can
feel the power,'' Tim said. ``There have been a lot of positive changes
brought by people who come to places like this and were able to get out of
their personal situations long enough to take a look at the bigger picture.''
Checked-by: Mike Gogulski
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