Here’s my write-up of Shambhala. I’ll add links to pictures later when I’m not tired out.

GETTING THERE
Shambhala is located on the outskirts of Salmo, BC, just over the Canadian border about three hours north of Spokane, WA. Approximate driving time from Seattle: eight hours, excluding any border wait times. Expect to be searched at the border and come prepared with your passport and a smile. Do not bring anything even mildly shady over the border (drugs, produce, booze, etc) and do not lie to the border guards about where you’re going. The festival is 10 minutes north of the border and they know that anyone who appears to be going camping is headed to Shambhala and is therefore going to get searched. All three of the cars in our caravan were searched, and the most adorable part was when Dawn’s Westfalia got searched by a French-Canadian drug dog. The dog’s handler kept directing the dog to different parts of the vehicle and saying Q’est-ce que c’est? Q’est-ce que c’est? (”What’s this? What’s this?”) I am proud to say that my crew of thirty-something partiers travel clean and that there was nothing for le chien de drogue to find in any of our cars.

The eight hours of driving does not include the time you may spend in your car waiting in line at the event. The worst part of getting to Shambhala for us was the seven-hour wait in line to get in. When we arrived on Thursday, we were told there would be a four-hour wait. Cars were being thoroughly searched for alcohol (which is not allowed at the event) and there was an inexcusable shortage of security to search vehicles. During the course of our seven hours in line, most of my group of friends declared we would never, ever be coming back to the event. We’ve all been to many large-scale festivals, and none of us had ever experienced such a long entrance delay. It was ridiculous. By the end of the festival, of course, we’d all changed our minds.

THE LOCATION & ACCOMODATIONS
The festival is held at the Salmo River Ranch located on some gorgeous farmland in a valley nestled between hills and intersected by the Salmo River. Most festival goers camped in the grass cow pastures, but there was camping in the trees for special folks (ie, talent, early arrivals, etc). Camps are not nearly as fancy-ass as they are at Burning Man, but people do bring some shade structures and pop-ups. That said, we totally had the most awesome camp, what with Dawn’s amazing shade structure and lights, combined with Maggie’s gorgeous Indian fabric lanterns. There are no portapotties at Shambhala — instead, festival goers use outhouses that surprisingly smell way less bad than portapotties, thanks to charcoal air filtration systems (no joke!) and the lack of blue chemical smells.

THE STAGES
The six stages at Shambhala brought a sense of wonder back into my jaded life. Seriously. Each space I walked in to would squeeze a “Whoa…” out of me. Fractal Forest, which I found even more lovely during the day, despite the insane light shows and projection screens at night. The Village, with its multiple elevated walkways and 2000-person dance floor felt like an Ibiza superclub transported to the middle of the forest. The Portal was too trancey most of the time for me to be there, but there was no denying the beautify of the space and the 360 surround-sound. I didn’t spend much time at the main stage or the rock pit, primarily because I couldn’t tear myself away from my favorite stage — the Living Room. Basically, imagine a kick-ass amazingly decorated party right on the banks of a waist-deep river. Heaven!

THE MUSIC
Oh wait, how can I talk about the stages without talking about the music. My favorite downtempo producer was there (Ott) as was my favorite uptempo DJ (Bassnectar). In between these two, there was just about every strain of downtempo, breaks, trance, dub, and even some rock and house (although I didn’t catch much of either). Basically, this is a hippie festival with mostly electronic music. A hippie raver’s delight! That said, the musical high points of the weekend were definitely Ott’s two sets. First his Saturday afternoon set at the Living Room, where you could alternate between dancing on either a wooden dancefloor or a dirt one … and then cool off in the river before going back to dance even more. It was simply heavenly. HEAVENLY!

THE PEOPLE
I’m a catty bitch who is not afraid to stereotype, so in that spirit, let me break the festival attendees down for you:
55% Hippie ravers in elvish, gypsy, circus gear (almost all Canadian, but a few folks from Seattle, SF, LA)
15% Rednecks (but Canadian rednecks, who are different from American rednecks!)
15% High teenagers
10% Clubbers, including wiggers, thugs on E, girls who look like prostitutes, etc.
5% Aging burnouts of various sorts (defined as over 50 and very, very high)

WHY IT ROCKED
I was camped with a magical collection of people … we were all a little above the average party age (most of us in our 30s) and all stayed relatively sane for the weekend. No one got all cracked out and nasty. Most of us slept six or more hours every night.

It also rocked because of the production values. HOLY FUCK. I have never seen anything like it. The decorations, the art, the stages, the altars, the paths through the forest. All of it. Magical. Amazing. You’ve seen the pictures.

It also rocked because it was a lot of my favorite music. Downtempo, breaks, etc.

Our joke for the weekend was that for every amazing thing that happened, we knocked about half an hour off the seven-hour wait time to get in. We were all ready to come back by the end of the weekend.