Standstill

"Trout! Trout! Trout! Trout!" The word comes out of my mouth in rhythmic unison with a sea of others. A fish isn't what I would normally chant for, yet I find myself more at home saying this than I do my own name.

Trout, or rather, Rainbow Trout Music Festival, is where I call home for three days every August. This festival, founded in 2009, began as a handful of friends took to an abandoned quarry in Manitoba to camp and fish.

Manitoba is no stranger to lakes, cascading greenery, and rejuvenating air; however, it is unique to see a beer-fueled dream transform into a sold-out festival of 700 attendees in a matter of years. Rainbow Trout Music Festival has migrated from the quarry to an expansive piece of untouched Prairie land on the banks of the Rosseau River. The owners of this land made it their priority to share this wealth of acreage, and their small-town generosity doesn't end there.

Rainbow Trout Music Festival encourages you to go off the beaten path and stray from the norm; however they warn you to only make the trek during the daylight. I found this warning to be true on my first year to the festival; I made it to the campground white-knuckled and relying on the sporadic light from flares to illuminate my journey under the dense black sky.

The accommodations are simple: they are what you bring. While there have been RV's, preference lays in pitching a tent and familiarizing yourself with the constellations alongside your neighbours. Not a single campsite has a fire pit, rather, the pits are communal, thus sparking many conversations and friendships.

The rainbow-ribboned stage of Trout comes alive with local talent from every genre in the book. Vendors transform corn on the cob into a delicacy and ensure you pack up local art alongside your gear at the end of the weekend.

The audience is as versed as the entertainment. Attendees range from city-slicking acro-yogis to silver-haired organic farmers; regardless, we all share an appreciation of the authentic grassroots festival we continuously find ourselves at.

This festival proves that exploring comes from a state of mind and escaping does not come with an account-draining price. I wake to the same Prairie sky 362 days of the year, yet here I feel a rare enigmatic clarity in my senses. My curiosity to explore the pure terrain is juxtaposed with the unparalleled intimacy I feel with the land as I fold into the grass, breathe in rhythm to the music, and grow closer to the clouds.