The Oregon Country Fair experience began at the front gate, where on Saturday a woman wearing pixie wings and blowing bubbles was among those waving in visitors.
“Proceed with the forward,” she said with a tranquil tone, elongating the vowels of each word. “Proceeeeed with the forwaaaard.”
When asked about the fair, most people sigh, struggle to find appropriate words and express feelings ranging from adoration to indifference to loathing. Nearly everybody says the event is memorable.
The fair’s numbers are staggering. This year, the fair saw 44,000 visitors, 250 art booths and 50 food vendors.
But as event spokesman Robert DeSpain said: “What people come here for is people-watching and sightseeing.”
Though organizers tamed the 32-year-old fair four years ago by selling tickets in advance and by banning drugs and alcohol, the event is still a spectacle of human eccentricity.
Every sense was stimulated almost beyond comprehension.
Colors brilliant and muted, sounds staccato and sustained and smells appealing and unpleasant swirled around the dirt paths that trailed through the wooded area in Veneta. The crowd was so dense that people didn’t walk but rather surged like blood through veins.

When the eye did focus, it was typically on something bizarre:
A man lying blindfolded on his back while another man scanned over his body with a didgeridoo.
Dancers wearing everything from their birthday suits to a blocky costume resembling Optimus Prime from the Transformers.
Mass juggling in an area dubbed the “Monkey Palace.”
Topless yoga.
A man peddling a bike-powered blender, banging a tambourine and tooting a kazoo.
Vendors standing in a trail offering free flower sniffing, just as Hickory Farms employees offer cheese and meat during the holiday season.
People lining up to listen to “Nirvana Tubes,” which were six-foot pipes tied to trees that offer an effect similar to listening to a seashell.
If these people were on a street corner, passersby would either donate spare change or call the police, but at the Country Fair, spectators are more likely to join.
Still, most people said they went to the fair just to watch, shop or listen to music. Art booths sold goods ranging from $10 finger puppets to $200 didgeridoos. The food court, which represented dozens of cultures, smelled like some sort of world casserole. Music was everywhere and included a massive drum circle, pre-registered folk, rock and jazz acts and impromptu musical gatherings at the sides of paths.
The echo of the 1960s hippie movement that can be heard at the Country Fair was best summed up by a conversation barely discernible over the ambient noise:
“Where’s the drum circle?”
“Everywhere.”