| As a native Calgarian, I was raised to love the Stampede. Each year my mom would take me and a friend down to the grounds to stuff our faces, go on the rides and hopefully win a giant Smurf somewhere along the way. I even worked there for a couple of years and thought that was pretty cool.
However as I got older, the Stampede lost its glamour for me. Where once I would be excited to ride the Polar Express, I found myself doing everything in my power to avoid the Stampede entirely. Stampede party downtown? Count me out. Wanting some mini-donuts? I can get them at the Farmers market. Drunken antics up and down my street? I’ll wait until the next hockey season.
This year I’ve decided to put aside my disdain for all things "yeehaw" and see if the Stampede can win me back. I’ve been taking my vitamins, been getting plenty of sleep and pre-purchased my herbal detox kit from the health store. Bring it.
11:13 a.m.
Driving around for parking – $15 to park on some company’s lawn? Are you kidding me? We finally find reasonable parking on someone else’s lawn, we get our act together and venture towards the gates.
11:45 a.m.
In the gates, surveying the scene, noting the lack of boozy/barfy/deep-fried smell in the air. Well, it is early – we’ll give it some time. My spirits are up, and my enthusiasm is, well, moderate.
12:00 p.m.
It’s too hot already and I’m worried about getting a burn, so I shell out $7 for a kid’s hat, complete with whistle. It’s the only one that will fit my tiny head.
12:30 p.m.
Posing for a couple of pictures with some ungodly stench coming from somewhere behind us. There are carnies wandering around all over. Their small hands, kinda freaking me out a bit.
12:50 p.m.
Watching the Stampede Show Band! Wow, these guys really know how to… umm… rock it. "Call Me Al" has never sounded so, umm… yeah. And there’s dancing. And a giant horse mascot. Do people really enjoy this?
1:15 p.m.
Played my first Stampede game in years – one of those water-target things. Kicked all of those 10-year-old’s asses and walked away with a stuffed "Stewie" doll. That’s right, I’ve got me some good eye-hand coordination.
2 p.m.
Superdogs? I see nothing super about this other than the fact that none of them have managed to defecate on the obstacle course. Although I do admit to getting a little caught up in the hysteria for about two minutes.
3 p.m.
Starting to fade, so there’s a lot of sitting on benches and people-watching going on. A tour through the Roundup Centre reveals trucks, RVs, fudge and cleaning products. Is it wrong that I am drawn to the cleaning products? Dang! Love ’em!
3:30 p.m.
We stop to have barbeque beef on a bun. And by that I mean half of a cow on a bun. That’ll take a few months to digest — and to think that people eat like this regularly? I’m starting to get really tired and cranky. I turn on James, the photographer, for making fun of heartburn. Hey, people suffer man. Show some compassion.
4:00 p.m.
The Heebee Jeebies. Yeah, I got nothin’.
4:30 p.m.
Are we done yet? Guh.
5:00 p.m.
I am hot, sweaty and fatigued. Maybe I need more food. Wandering around the grounds in a circle for a million hours is wearing me down. How do people do this more than once every 10 years?
5:15 p.m.
Okay, so maybe the Ferris wheel isn’t even considered to be a ride for most people but when you’re scared of heights, I’m not gonna lie to you – terror.
5:30 p.m.
Corndog. So. Gross.
5:40 p.m.
Aaah, Weadickville. Shade and sitting are my new favourite things. I think we need to take a break from all of this. Is there a bar around here somewhere?
9:00 p.m.
I’m a bit more "refreshed" but getting really tired of the walking and the seizure-inducing lights and the various smells. I need to go home. Please. |
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