Groovey Way

We retreated back the road and found a path into the woods.
Another cool, emerald, fragrance filled universe existed in there. Like some kind of third world bazaar with dozens of Head Shops, selling posters, pipes, rugs and all things counter culture. The paths were traced through the woods with strings of lights in the trees and designated with signs like “Groovy Way,” and “High Way”.
Beyond the domination of the main stages 70 foot speaker towers, speakers in the trees played what is now called classic rock. The smells of strange incense ever changing like some kind of familiar spirit moving, hovering through the forest. Even today a shop with one of those scents takes me instantly there through time and space.
A rock wall bisected one of these paths where several people were selling various drugs of all kinds. They shouted out what they offered like newsies on a street corner in the city or hot dog venders at a ball game.