In all, it was probably the largest congregation of metal fans in Oregon, with the odd tag-along friend (like me). There were amazing mohawks, combat boots, ripped jeans, jean jackets, piercings and far too many boys with saggy pants.
My only complaint was that we had to go with my mother. That in itself wasn't so bad, she does like some of the music and does not particularly mind the visual aspect of alternitive cultures, either. However, she would not let us mosh. A thousand curses.
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