My friend Peter and I missed out on Woodstock. In the summer of ʼ69, we were simply too young to make the trek. But we did get to go to an all-Canadian version of that historic festival. Held in a campground near Orangeville, Ontario, over the Labour Day weekend, the Freak Out at Rockhill Park featured no fewer than twenty-one of Canadaʼs best bands on three stages, including one on a small lake. My parents drove us up from Toronto, actually right into the campground, which proved to be both a curse and a blessing. On the one hand, as sixteen-year-olds, we were mortified that we needed a parental escort at all, when most people had driven themselves or hitchhiked. On the other, being in the ...
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