Full Moon parties were a must do. The grapevine would run from South of Cairns to Cooktown, and all communities and groups between. So it would be nothing to hitch hike from Cedar Bay to Kuranda or beyond for a Full Moon party.
There were three guaranteed happenings at a good word of mouth FM party. First, there would be random campfires all over a paddock or beach, with groups of people around each. Secondly, there would invariably be a guitar, or harmonica, or flute, or some instrument at each campfire, in the hands of someone who could actually play said instrument. and lastly there would be good food (and good psychedelics) for those who were hungry.
When I was a hippy…
If someone carried a guitar, they could, if nothing else, play ‘Wish You Were Here’, ‘Needle and The Damage Done’, ‘The House of the Rising Sun, and something from Bob Dylan.
‘Trippin’ Around’ was the same as ‘Walk-a-bout’, but didn’t mean you were actually going anywhere in particular. It merely meant you were leaving the spot you were at, and you were going to see where the wind blew you for a while. Of course, you could end up anywhere between Ravenshoe and Karumba, but that didn’t matter.
When I Was A Hippy…
I stayed celibate (voluntarily), for 8 months. Ironic no? Living in a culture that espoused and practiced ‘free love’, with no consequences, and I was self-proclaimed celibate.
I smoked less pot, and had less psychedelics when part of the Far North Hippy culture, than I had in the corresponding period beforehand living in Brisbane. I just didn’t need it, nor did I hunt for it (or grow it).
When I was a Hippy…
A walk of 20 kilometres had as much fun and adventure as a journey of 2000km. I hitch-hiked to Brisbane in the Winter. The first 500km took four full days, three spent on the road between Cooktown and Cairns, when the majority of it was dirt, and no better than a goat track. The last 1500km took just over 36 hours. After 5 days in Brisbane with my toes refusing to thaw, I hitched back up. Three days to Cairns and another week before I got back to the Far North. The journeys were always the reason why I ‘Tripped Around’. However, if I was ‘On a Mission’, then I would head off with a destination in mind, and (to this day) rarely remember the journey itself. Just the departure point and the arrival. I would sometimes walk for six hours and not recall most of what I passed or trekked through, be it creeks, beaches, overgrown tracks or roads. I would be lost inside my own head.
When we gathered together, discussions would range from how best to use soursop fruit, to what was happening in South Africa, if anyone knew of course. Mostly it would be keeping up to date with what was happening in the different groups between Cooktown and Kuranda etc. Grapevine stuff. News was 99% word of mouth from the gypsy type Hippies, that *always* tripped around. In the ‘inner circle’, there were us ‘freaks’, and the ‘ferals’, meaning they followed the fruit seasons, not that they were ‘feral’ in todays terms. You could get news from far and wide when the ferals dropped into the Bay.
Anyway, I only posted this because I was reminiscing, and decided to put it on ‘paper’ so to speak. Go back to your normal routine now 🙂 Oh, and if you want, click on the images to get a full size, uncropped view (but ‘member, I own copyright on all my pics-ask please). Cheers.