Selected Articles from
The Gull Archives

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Estrella VI

Well here I go again! Yes, it's Brock's bimonthly "contribution" to the gull. Estrella gave me a new method for measuring how much I enjoyed an event. The veterans called it hell, I'd go back in a heartbeat.

I took a dragon and a horseless carriage to the site, arriving about 11:00p.m. Arizona time. The Griffin's Guard was kind enough to allow me to share their fire that night. It was Saturday morning that I found out the temperature had dropped well below freezing that night

Saturday was my introduction to war, SCA style. The closest I'd come to seeing this spectacle was tournament melee. It was quite interesting to watch the different groups maneuvering, but from my vantage points I could not tell whether Caid or Aytenvelt was winning.

I also spent a fair amount of time scouting the merchant' s quadrant of the site Saturday. Part of this time was spent as part of a security patrol that for which I volunteered. The remainder of Saturday was spent setting up my camp, and field heralding.

There was a dangerous shortage of field heralds for the event. Over the course of Saturday afternoon and Sunday, I spent five hours destroying my vocal chords. I definitely need to practice. I also volunteered for the post war shift at the Chirurgeon’s post. This was supposed to run from 4:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m., but quickly extended to midnight when my replacements did not show up.

Chirurgeon duty was a very enlightening aspect of the event as I saw everything from cuts, bruises and splinters to probable broken bones and heat exhaustion. A word to all SCAers, bring soap, Band-Aids and a needle, these were the things people most often needed. And when in doubt, especially for fighters, check with the Chirurgeon. I was surprised at the wounds, including a probable broken hand, that fighters were willing to ignore.

The night life at Estrella was great. One of the benefits of my volunteer hours was the number of people from around the continent I met. Yes, there were people there who drove from Canada and Alaska. I accepted the invitation of an Outlander to join her camp for a party Saturday night. By evenings end, King Guy and Queen Darla had coerced us to provide the entertainment at their little fiesta. After much dancing and shouting, just what my voice needed, I pooped out and staggered back to my campsite.

After Chirurgeon duty Sunday, I went back to camp. A nasty storm was blowing in, and my rain tarp was plastered up against the tent next to mine. After a couple of minutes of trying to be sociable around the campfire, one of the ladies suggested that I should probably hit the hay while I still had the strength to walk to my tent. I took the suggestion, and even the pounding of Rolling Thunder, a mercenary band with drums, did not prevent my slumber.

A short while after I crawled into my tent, the rain began. Luckily, my tent withstood the whether in spite of my missing tarp. It was an interesting sensation to have my entire tent rock with the wind though.

By morning, the storm had basically passed. I walked past the autocrat's tent, and saw about half a dozen people who had lost their tents in the storm. They had moved into the autocrat's tent overnight.

By late morning I had found a horseless carriage to take me to a dragon headed home. I arrived home and forced myself to stay awake until 7: 30 p.m . At which point I promptly fell asleep until 7:00 Tuesday morning. All in all, Estrella was a blast.

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