O O Ø O O O O
Pob’s Knob
“I’ll take you someplace higher, where there’s no view!” *
The Winnipeg Folk Festival Organizing Committee
#203-211 Bannatyne Avenue
Winnipeg, MB Canada R3B 3P2
Hello happy organizers;
There’s a bump in the middle of a park in Manitoba, many kilometers outside of Winnipeg. The park is called Bird’s Hill park. The bump is called Pope’s hill. This knob is apparently the subject of some controversy. I think we need to have a talk about this knob.
Before I get started, though, let me congratulate you on your festival—the Winnipeg Folk Fest—this year in its 31st year. Every summer for the past five, my wife and I have been making the trek to friendly Manitoba to take in the music, the culture, the experience that is the Winnipeg folk fest. I’m sure you’re already aware of this, but your show is easily the best live music festival in all of Canada, and probably North America, too. How else can you explain 40,000 people braving the hummingbird-sized mosquitos you breed out there, year after year? Even scheduling the thing smack-dab in the middle of Stampede isn’t enough to keep us away.
How else can you explain 40,000 people braving the hummingbird-sized mosquitos you breed out there, year after year?
In truth, there are two reasons we make the 13-hour, two-hill drive to Winnipeg every summer. (There used to be three, but the KFC in Moosomin stopped having its Monday, “all the chicken batter you can stuff in your face” lunchtime buffet.) The first is the obvious one: the music festival. Four days of it’s-folk-if-you-can-play-it-live music, and all the beer tents, samosas, and handcrafts that go with it.
But for all it’s merits, the official event alone would not be enough to keep us coming back. Despite popular rumour, we do have live music in Calgary also, and we don’t usually need tennis-racket-sized flyswatters, or 98%, melt-the-plastic-off-your-shoes, DEET spray to enjoy it. Along with the official festival, Winnipeg has the unofficial draw: the Festival Campground. The not-even-remotely-quiet camping experience, with its 120 hours of non-stop drumming, dancing, glowing, and impromptu piano bar construction projects.
Honestly, the festival campground is a sight to be seen. It is remarkable to spend most of a week camped in a field with 5,000 of your closest friends, and not have to fear any untoward incidents. People drum. People dance. People sing. People play. People glow. People, er, well, you know. Music is made. Talents are shared. A general feeling of happiness and festivity pervades. Rarely are there any unfortunate incidents. (Apart from the token Sunday-morning arrest. Honestly, you would think people would learn not to camp next to the access road—or at least keep their bong in the tent.)
Honestly, you would think people would learn not to camp next to the access road—or at least keep their bong in the tent.
But, sooner or later, the inevitable happens, and people are drawn from their tents to the only visible landmark for several hundred kilometers: A tiny little mound in the middle of a large field, nestled in a huge park, far, far away from the city.
Yes, I’m talking about Pope’s Hill.
It’s hard to believe that this stupid little knob was the subject of a near-legendary standoff not that many years ago: when the teeming masses faced down the hordes of police officers and park rangers that encircled its base to finally break through, storm the hill, and, er, stand on it. For as long as we’ve been going to the festival, the congregation on Pope’s hill, though technically outside the boundaries of the festival campground, was tolerated. (Even encouraged, if you consider Nash the Slash’s impromptu midnight show a couple of years back.) I can appreciate there’s a sort of illicit thrill to visiting the hill. I can also appreciate that it’s the only thing remotely not-flat within a day’s hike, and hence, is a natural congregating spot once the official festivities are over.
And now, upon visiting your web site, I see that Pob’s Knob has once again become a subject of some contention. I quote:
“The Folk Festival’s lease does not include Pope’s Hill. Violation of our lease jeopardizes our ability to provide camping, and ultimately the future of the Winnipeg Folk Festival as a whole.”
I have a perhaps revolutionary idea for you:
Lease the hill.
Seriously. Include it in the lease. Let the masses keep conquering the hill, year after year, thinking they’re doing something vaguely illicit. No harm, no foul. Besides, all the police officers and park rangers in the world aren’t going to be able to keep these people away. They don’t sleep, remember? I’m sure you and I can think of many better uses for 120 police-hours-worth of our taxpayer dollar. Let the masses take the hill. Let them have their fun. Let them drum. Let them dance. Let them glow. Just ask them to clean up after themselves. They’ll probably even comply. After all, they’re not really storming the hill as an affront to your authority. They’re just excited. And who wouldn’t be! It’s a hill on the prairies.
And prairie folks don’t get to see hills very often.
Think about it. And thanks again for a great Festival!
Sincerely,
Kjell Wooding
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
PD DCLVIII
* This phrase was uttered (to one of our esteemed Pint Day Saints) by a Saskatoon Police Officer, on the roof of a parkade, one cold day in February. We still have no idea what he meant.
The Reply
I mailed this letter just before leaving for the Folkfest. I had a reply waiting for me by the time I got back. Thanks Trudy!
Postscript
It has become a tradition for some campers to congregate on Pope John Paul II (Pope's) Hill after the Main Stage concert. This year, the Folk Festival has been given special permission in its lease with Birds Hill Park to include Pope's Hill. This agreement has been granted for a trial period basis for 2005, and will be renewed only if certain conditions are met this year...
Never underestimate the power of the pode.