The Dirty Sole Society's
			Spring Pandamonium Carpet Camp '96

				Information

	Filed by: Richard K. Frazine, Mike Berrow, & William Shakely
	Location: Thomaston, Connecticut, USA
	Dates   : May 17-19, 1996.


	FRIDAY,	MAY 17
	==============

	I was awaken'd at some ungodly hour by a telephone call from
	Mike Berrow informing me that his flight was delay'd and that
	he and Gareth would not be arriving at Bradley until 12:09PM my
	time. I used the extra time after seeing Charlie onto the
	school bus to do a bit more housecleaning. (Bit of a laugh,
	that:-o) I managed not to notice the "NO BARE FEET" sign on the
	door of the terminal building, but no one gave me any trouble
	during the hour or more that I found myself there before the
	actual arrival of the flight at 12:48PM. Mike an I greeted each
	other with a much needed hug, and soon we had collected the
	baggage and were on our way back to Thomaston.

	Mike Berrow writes:

>	Gareth and I arrived at San Francisco Airport at 10:00pm (nice
>	and early for our 11:30pm "red-eye") only to discover that the
>	flight had been delayed for 2 hours (to 1:30am!). Well,
>	checked the bags and made the best of it. We spent the time
>	wandering around barefoot, with me mostly giving Gareth rides
>	on the luggage cart. We even saw another barefooter.
>
>	Finally, our flight was called and we temporarily put our
>	slip-on sandals on while boarding (after an earlier experience
>	with United Airlines, I really didn't feel like encountering
>	any hassle). The flight was packed and rather uncomfortable ...
>	but it was made a lot more tolerable by having an excited
>	12-year-old traveling companion along with me. Due to the
>	delay, I knew we would miss the connecting flight in Chicago.
>	So, I called a rather sleepy Richard Frazine up just before we
>	boarded, so that he would know to go out to meet us at Hartford
>	Airport three hours later than originally planned.
>
>	We landed in Connecticut at about 12:30pm on Friday afternoon.
>	We ditched the sandals on exiting the plane and went to look
>	for Richard. Walked through the last set of double-doors and
>	there he was, leaning against a pillar. Bear hugs all round :-)

	I was acutely aware that I had previously instructed Phelps
	Gates (who would, from what he had told me, have set off from
	North Carolina with Don Weber the previous afternoon with the
	intent of taking a room for the night and setting off again
	that morning) to try to arrive at my house shortly before noon;
	and I was thus fretting the whole way about whether J.D. would
	have eaten Don and Phelps before Mike got a chance to meet
	them.  At last I return'd to find Don and Phelps making
	themselves at home in my sitting room. J.D. had barkt at them
	for some minutes, as I had warn'd them in a note that he would,
	but had finally retired quietly to a corner. No one was the
	worse, and we were all very glad to see each other. More hugs.

Mike Berrow writes:

>	We got loaded into Richard's car and chatted all the way to
>	Thomaston (well, I did ... Gareth fell asleep). Richard said
>	he'd left a note for Don and Phelps saying "Make yourselves at
>	home, don't mind J.D." He was hoping that J.D. hadn't eaten
>	them. We passed through a lot of small towns on the way to
>	Thomaston. My strongest first impression of Connecticut was the
>	large number of trees. The small towns and the straggling
>	development between them, seem to nestle in amongst the
>	ever-present trees.
>
>	We finally rolled into Thomaston at around 2:00pm. It's a
>	fairly small place with an "out in the country" feel to it. We
>	turned into Richard's driveway and parked next to a small,
>	two-story house with a large porch. The house is on a large (
>	acre lot) backing onto woodland. Don and Phelps weren't there
>	(out running an errand) when we arrived, but J.D. barked
>	noisily.

	[ *Note: Mike's recollection differs a bit from mine here, but
	that is to be expected. -- Richard ]

>	Don and Phelps arrived shortly afterwards. It's really great to
>	finally meet people, when you have been corresponding with them
>	for a long time. I didn't recognize Don right away ... he's
>	grown a largish beard since the last photo I saw. We all
>	compared feet. I'd heard a lot about Don's amazingly tough
>	soles. It's true. :-)

	Shortly after Charlie got home from school, Mike and I went
	into town to get some beer, and got back to the house just as
	Pam was stepping out of her car. More hugs. It was now getting
	towards evening and it was good to have Pam and Omar and Zoe in
	time for supper.

Mike Berrow writes:

>	Charlie arrived from school and Richard told him to leave his
>	footwear in the porch-room. Richard and I made a quick
>	beer-run. Richard and Charlie led us on a quick introductory
>	hike on the wooded hill behind their property. Charlie kept
>	running on ahead with Richard occasionally booming out "Where
>	are you Charles !" as we chatted about DSS issues. The first
>	thing Gareth and I noticed was the nice soft leaf cover on the
>	trails. In fact, the red leaves looked very much like the
>	leaves on the cover of the "Barefoot Hiker" book.

Anonymous:

>	Not long afterward a most disrespectfull shoddy, who shall
>	remain nameless, dropt Beth off, and stay'd to have a beer
>	before she could be shewn out. :-(

Mike Berrow writes:

>	After we got back, Beth arrived with her mother (Jo). Since I'd
>	met Richard and his kids for the first time about a year ago in
>	Pennsylvania, it felt a bit like a family re-union. Pam
>	Rickenbach and her children, Omar (8) and Zoe (4) arrived next.
>	It was a real pleasure to meet them. After chatting for a
>	while, Jo left. Now there were ten of us.

	We now had five adults and five children; and Pam, deciding
	that a bonfire was needed, set to work arranging some rocks
	into a fire pit and fetching wood. I had provided some
	marshmallows and hotdogs and buns and an enormous package of
	mince, but it was decided that other supplies were wanted as
	well so I stay'd with the children and sent the other adults to
	the local IGA. Their bare feet were no problem, but apparently
	a few shod feet began to tap when they fail'd to finish by
	closing time. Pam's bonfire turn'd out to be a capital idea and
	we all had a really wonderfull evening cooking and eating and
	laying back and listening to musick and just being glad that
	there were so many of us together and that we were all
	barefoot.  At one point a cop smelt the fire from the main road
	and drove up to the foot of the driveway to tell us to make
	sure we did not let it get too high. Some of us were afraid
	that it might have been the shoe police and were relieved that
	such was not the case.

Mike Berrow writes:

>	I went with Pam, Don and Beth to the local grocery store to
>	pick up some things for dinner. When we got back, everyone
>	started gathering fire-wood to make a camp-fire. We barbecued
>	hamburgers and hot-dogs, and the kids did some marsh-mallow
>	roasting. As we watched the flames, Beth said "It feels like
>	we're a family .... a big barefoot-hiking family !" I knew what
>	she meant.

	Don had brought a tent and he and Pam and eventually Zoe spent
	the night in it just outside the kitchen window. Phelps,
	claiming he was "too old for carpet-camping" had driven off to
	spend the night with his friend Ted in East Hartford. This left
	plenty of space for the other six of us with only one extra
	mattress having to be drug up from the basement.


	SATURDAY, MAY 18
	================

	The night had been clear and pleasant, but Saturday morning
	brought rain. Morning was Pandmonium indeed, and it was very
	hard to winkle out the tenters; but we had French toast for
	breakfast, and everyone enjoy'd the home-made,
	_barefoot_in_the_snow_ maple syrup. Phelps return'd to us, and
	Joe Huntington and Bill Shakely arrived to join us.

	Neither the chap who was going to videotape us, nor any of the
	other locals who had indicated an interest in what should have
	been the main Saturday morning hike, were able to make it, but
	then again it was pissing down rain. We ourselves decided to
	abandon the idea of hiking in favour of some 'urban
	barefooting' in Torrington. I myself rode thither in Phelps'
	Saturn with Charlie and Omar in the back, but the boys managed
	to open the back of the seat and disappear into the boot, which
	Phelps did not find very funny. The rain was only intermittent,
	so the 'urban barefooting' was rather good. We follow'd signs
	for a largely fail'd 'street festival' and spent some time in a
	charming little second hand book shop, whose propriatrix was
	some what of a 'barefooter's monkey', as the French say. She
	said she would love to come out with the Barefoot Hikers of
	Thomaston sometime, and that she might be willing to carry a
	few copies of THE BAREFOOT HIKER . She even kickt off her shoes
	-- maybe a convert:-) We then had lunch in a pizza place -- no
	problems about our bare feet, but then again, there were a full
	dozen of us and only two other customers there the whole time.
	Finally we watcht part of a street opera outside the Warner
	Theatre, wherein several of Beth's friends from her Drama
	classes were participating; and then return'd to the cars for
	the trip back to Thomaston.

Mike Berrow writes:

>	Next morning (Saturday) we had rain. Joe Huntington and Bill
>	Shakely arrived fairly early making up the full complement of a
>	dozen barefooters. Since it was raining, instead of a hike, we
>	decided to make a trip to Torrington for a little "urban"
>	barefooting. This is a medium-sized town about 10 miles to the
>	north. We poured out of the three cars and went on up the
>	street towards the town-center.  Yes, we were an unusual sight,
>	and collected a fair number of "double-takes". There was some
>	kind of street-festival in the town that day. This included
>	face-painting for kids and a local children's drama/singing
>	group giving a performance under the awning of a cinema. We
>	were looking for a restaurant, however most of them seemed to
>	be closed. We spent some time in a second-hand bookstore.  When
>	we all marched in, the owner was quite baffled at the sudden
>	appearance of seven barefoot adults and five barefoot children
>	in her store. She asked the question and got the answer. She
>	mentioned that she loves to go barefoot and would, but her
>	customers expect her to wear shoes. She related that, once, a
>	customer had "told her off" for being barefoot (now there's a
>	turn-about !). Richard cajoled her for a while that she really
>	needn't worry about that today, and she kicked he shoes off and
>	joined us !. We lingered there for quite a while and bought
>	some books. She plans to stock a number of copies of Richard's
>	book. We found a pizza-place to eat.  They had no problem with
>	a dozen barefooters practically taking over the place for an
>	hour. After lunch, we took photos on some church steps and
>	later watched the performance given by the drama-kids.  Then,
>	back to Thomaston.

	That afternoon we had better weather, and took our first real
	hike along the Mattatuck Trail to 'Leatherman's Cave' a name
	shared by many similar natural shelters in Eastern New York and
	Western Connecticut that were associated with a famous
	itinerant beggar known as the 'Leatherman' who made an annual
	(and apparently annular) pilgrimage through these parts in the
	early years of the 19th Century. This has always been one of my
	favourite places to take first time barefoot hikers, and indeed
	I was on part of this stretch of trail when I was film'd
	walking barefoot in the snow for the recently televised EXTRA
	programme.

Mike Berrow writes:

>	The rain had eased off by now, so Richard took us all on a hike
>	along the famous (well, famous to me) Mattatuck Trail. It was
>	wonderful !!. I wish I had a trail like it in California. Deep,
>	soft leaf cover to walk in and outcroppings of roughly textured
>	rock to climb over. Apart from some steep climbs (not relevant
>	to barefooting ... only fitness), I would rate it an almost
>	perfect beginner trail. I told Don about some of the "rocky"
>	trails I had walked with Paul (in search of suitable beginner
>	trails). One time, I had said to Paul on some particularly
>	tough gravel and sharp rock "Pretty tough stuff, eh Paul ? ...
>	Don Weber would be crying by now!" Paul laughed, because we
>	both knew that Dons feet are probably the toughest in the DSS.
>	I'd love to go barefoot backpacking with Don some time. We made
>	a trip to a local pizza take-out where one of Richards hikers
>	is employed. As we waited for our "Calzone" (not pizza again),
>	I discovered that the jukebox there had the song "Barefootin'".
>	I put in my quarter and Beth and jigged around to it, much to
>	the amusement of the other employees.

	Pam wanted to rent "BRAVEHEART" that evening, and so we did. We
	all enjoy'd it, but it presented a disgracefully 'shoddy'
	version of medival Scotland. Rather hard on the Brits too, for
	all that. :-| We open'd up the Barefoot wine that evening. It
	was past midnight before any of us got to bed, and some of us
	were half in the bag.


	SUNDAY,	MAY 19
	==============

	Sunday morning brought the question of what Huntington and I
	would do about going to Mass. It being my usual habit to go to
	a Latin Mass in Hartford, I knew little about St. Thomas here
	in town, but reckon'd that at an early Mass we could get away
	with going barefoot. Joe ended up putting shoes on and actually
	going in to sit down, but I waited until the Mass was underway
	before entering and stood barefoot in the vestibule. In a way
	it was very nice -- as if there was nobody there but me,
	mumbling to myself in Latin. I took my leave right after the
	Domine non sum dignus -- or whatever it is they say in English
	now -- and waited for Joe in the car.

Mike Berrow writes:

>	[Our Sunday morning] hike involved fording a fairly deep
>	stream. Gareth and Omar got somewhat wet. Pam looked at the
>	calmer deeper water downstream and said "I am always afraid of
>	that kind of water." Pam spent a portion of her growing up in
>	the Amazon jungle and learned where to avoid Piranha fish. No
>	Piranhas in Connecticut. We found some interesting pieces of
>	Mica to take home.  This is a strange kind of rock that (up
>	close) looks like thin layers of dirty plastic. You can
>	actually peel them apart in thin transparent sheets. Bits of
>	broken mica in the dirt look, for a the world, like pieces of
>	broken glass. It's completely harmless to step on, but, for a
>	while, my peripheral vision glass detection system was
>	screaming "glass alert! glass alert!" at me.

	After a lunch of warmed over calzone and other leftovers, we
	had to give Don and Phelps our final hugs and let them depart.

Mike Berrow writes:

>	Our final hike involved meeting a free-lance photographer at a
>	"commuter-parking-lot" (Richard's usual hike gathering place)
>	and hiking a trail along a brook that had a series of small
>	water-falls and pools. The kids had fun in the water (so did
>	I).
>
>	Hugs and goodbyes were exchanged as Pam and her kids departed
>	to make their way home. The remainder went on an expedition to
>	Waterbury to eat at a Chinese restaurant. The food was cheap
>	but the decor was rather dingy. Richard asked "Are they going
>	to let a bunch of dirty barefooters in here?" I assured him
>	that I'd been thrown out of much better places than that. There
>	was no problem.
>
>	Joe headed back home and Richard, Bill and I talked late into
>	the night. Richard has some great stories from the time he
>	worked a home for the "profoundly daft" in west London. He had
>	us laughing fit to bust! It was a great weekend. Due a foul-up
>	on my part, we were late leaving the next morning, but Richard
>	and family got Gareth and I to our 6:10 AM flight in the nick
>	of time.


	APPENDIX
	========

Bill Shakely's comments:

>	Richard,
>
>	Please accept my deepest apologies for not contributing yet to
>	your write-up of the recent gathering! The computer that I use
>	is at my place of employment; things have been hectic around
>	here this week, and I've been trying to find time to write
>	something. (I'd stay late, but our e-mail system goes down
>	around midnight, when I'm done work.)
>
>	I hope that I'm not too late to add my thoughts!
>
>	It was 4:30 on Saturday morning, and as I left my house near
>	Philadelphia for Richard's place in Connecticut, I had to laugh
>	a little at what I was doing.
>
>	I had been at work until 11:00 the night before, and had gotten
>	little sleep; but I was full of anticipation at the thought of
>	meeting other "serious" barefooters. This would be great! I had
>	only one concern, other than falling asleep at the wheel, and
>	that was: would I measure up? I was one of the newest members
>	of the DSS.  Richard had written a _book_ on barefoot hiking,
>	for heaven's sake!  And Mike was flying in all the way from
>	_California_ just for this event! Would they expect me to
>	"prove" myself by walking barefoot over hot coals? Had Richard
>	planned a long barefoot hike on a trail paved with sharp
>	gravel? Would this "elite" of barefooting have their noses in
>	the air, or their heads in the clouds?
>
>	At 8 o'clock I arrived at Richard's. At around 8 o'clock and 45
>	seconds, I realized that Richard, his children, and his guests
>	were one down-to-earth bunch of people...and really, you can't
>	get much more down to earth than when your bare soles touch the
>	grass and dirt. Collectively, they even had a sense of humor
>	that was like mine...although, to be fair, I must admit that my
>	own jokes would turn out to be the worst of the weekend.
>
>	I had brought a bottle of Barefoot Cellars Cabernet wine...but
>	so had someone else! Turns out that that would be the
>	"official" wine of our weekend together.
>
>	What was the best part of the gathering? For me, it was meeting
>	so many great people. The most fun I had was on our barefoot
>	excursion through downtown Torrington. There were twelve of
>	us..."The Dirty Two-Dozen"! Absolutely no problem getting
>	served at that pizza restaurant; they definitely needed the
>	business. ("S/he who has the gold, makes the rules...even when
>	barefoot.")
>
>	I'd bet that the owner of the book store we visited made more
>	money when we were there than she did the rest of the day. One
>	temptation that I'm glad we resisted was going into the Shoe
>	Town store and asking the clerk, "What are THESE things?"
>
>	One of the silliest moments of the weekend came when Gareth was
>	riding in my "Rust Rocket" '79 Plymouth on our way to the
>	Chinese restaurant on Sunday. (By the way, the linoleum floor
>	of that place was PERFECT for a gathering of the DIRTY Sole
>	Society.) We waited at a gas station as the other car carrying
>	our group stopped for a fill-up. At the station was a bunch of
>	bikers on Harley-Davidsons.  (These appeared to be "yuppie"
>	bikers.) One of their vehicles was a three-wheeler, dripping
>	with chrome and bright-yellow paint. It looked like an
>	ice-cream wagon! I said to Gareth, "I'll give you five bucks if
>	you ask the guy on that trike for a 'Nutty-Buddy'!"  (That's a
>	kind of East Coast ice-cream bar, as Gareth would learn.)  Son,
>	you disappointed me! That would have been easy money! I must
>	admit that your sharp wit and quick comebacks to my jokes the
>	entire weekend were impressive...especially for a 12-year-old.
>
>	As I drove home late on Sunday night, I thought about how lucky
>	Richard is to live so close to some fine trails for barefoot
>	hiking.  I also thought about how fortunate his children are to
>	have a father like him.
>
>	- Bill