Posted: August 23, 2006 in Uncategorized

The Lane County Fair, the annual summertime collection of teenagers, livestock, food on a stick, and has-been 80s bands, is an interesting phenomenon in a town like Eugene. While the town is an outpost of liberal hippiness and anarchism, and most large events in the city involve at least one drum circle and plenty of tie-dye, the LCF brings the surrounding conservative farming community into the dead center of town, like having a BBQ beef stand at a hemp festival. But this fair is so old and so engrained, nobody really thinks twice about it. If anything, it just reminds this little liberal island how the rest of the state lives.

I personally hadn’t been to the fair in nearly 10 years, so when the opportunity arose, I jumped at the chance to go and see it in full swing. Lucy, Price, and I made our way over on Friday evening and arrived just as Styx was enthralling a crowd of die-hard fans with Come Sail Away. We wandered through the livestock area, ate all the fair junk food we had the same nostalgic memories of, and rode rides of questionable construction aimed at making us as nauseaus as possible. It was fantastic. To her delight, Lucy had spotted a mechanical bull near the exit, so as a capper to the evening we headed towards the country music booth that was hosting it and she proceeded to break her wrist riding it trying to convince Price and I to take a turn. But she was a trooper, and brushed it off as a sprain.

Saturday morning, she could no longer deny that an x-ray would be a good idea, so I took her to Urgent Care to eventually get it splinted and outfit her with some pain killers. We had planned to head to Smith together for the weekend, but the discomfort pretty well put her out of the running, so I made sure she was as comfortable as possible, then headed out to Ben and Katy’s housewarming party, where I proceeded to drink too much beer.

Sunday everyone was mildly hung over and the temperature spiked into the mid-90s by 10 AM, so climbing plans were put on hold until late afternoon, and instead we had a very long breakfast and an even longer stint of lounging and napping in the grass at the park. Eventually we did in fact climb, although the rarity of my climbing this season had taken its toll and my attempts at Cruel Sister and Crack-a-no-go sucked more than a Thai hooker. Still, a bad day climbing is better than a good day doing almost anything else.

Lucy meantime has gotten a much more permanent and comfortable cast just in time to head home for a month. Think I’ll use the time to take care of this climbing problem.

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