Gone Phishin'; Fans don't let Mother Nature rain on their It Fest August 7, 2003 - Boston Herald By Ed Golden Former Celtics coach Rick Pitino once described callers to a Boston radio station as the fellowship of the miserable. The fellowship of the rock group Phish was anything but miserable after migrating to Limestone, Maine, over the weekend for the two-night It Festival. The fans battled through rain and wet roads that affected the already heavy traffic on I-95. But the sky eventually cleared just before showtime. And 60,000 fans slogged their way on to the soggy grounds of the old Loring Air Force Base to hear their favorite music, enjoy amusement rides, performance art and displays, and camp out in a massive tent city established along one of Loring's former runways. The motivation for all of this is the musical jams performed by Phish, the four-man Vermont-based band that has struck a cord with Phish Phans. IT comes at the end of the band's latest tour since returning from a 2-year hiatus, to the delight of hard-core followers. "Our generation hasn't really had anything to call its own," said Megan Ruedy, 24, of Medford, N.J. "We didn't have the (Grateful) Dead, like our parents," said Leah Batkiewicz, 24, of New York City, who made the nearly 24-hour trip to northeast Maine near the Canadian border with Ruedy. The pair also had attended Phish's two concerts in Camden, N.J., staged just prior to IT. "Throughout college, everything was so competitive," Ruedy said as she and her friend pitched their tent across the runway from arcades, food stands and crafts booths. "But when you come to an event like this, there's a sense of community. I enjoy the music, but it's the sense of community that brings me back." A few yards away, Fran Spause was sitting next to his white Harley-Davidson motorcycle, still chilled from the wet, cold ride up from Philadelphia. "I wound up camping by the side of the road because my battery got wet and caused my motorcycle to stall last night," Spause said Saturday as he got himself mentally prepared for the first night of music. "But it doesn't matter how long it took, the rain, the cold, it's all worth it just to be here to see Phish." About an hour later, Phish took the stage to a raucous welcome from the adoring crowd, many of them standing in an ankle-deep quagmire caused by several days of rain, for the first of the Saturday evening's three sets. Bassist Mike Gordon rode a Segway motorized scooter to his position to the delight of fans. Drummer Jon Fishman wore his trademark dress. Somehow it all fit the scene. Phish is known for improvising its sets on the spot, which guitarist Trey Anastasio acknowledged Saturday night. At one point, the band appeared to huddle up to decide what song to play next. "We're just taking our own sweet time up here because we've got no place to go for two days," Anastasio explained. After playing three sets that ran a combined five hours and many familiar songs, the band returned to play another hourlong set at 2 a.m. But rather than hit the main stage, Phish entertained the masses from the roof of the air base's 10-story former control tower, which was bathed in changing colored lights, stage fog rolling into the cool night air, and performers rappelling down its side. Another three sets were played yesterday, after a day of activities that included the Runaway Jim Memorial 5K run, won by Justin Easter, of Presque Isle, Maine, in 15 minutes. "It's that kind of casual approach to entertaining that has attracted so many fans to Phish festivals and concerts for almost 20 years," said Jason Colton, of Phish's management company. "Only in a place like this, at what seems like the end of the earth, can people listen to their favorite music and also see a wonderful display of art," he said. At IT, the art is displayed at Sunk City. It features installations that served as visual centerpieces at the previous five Phish camping festivals. The displays include a 6-foot Bob's Big Boy statue that was sunk halfway into the ground. There is also a 500-foot bridge running through the tops of a small stand of pines, with views of several artists' works. At one point, a Styrofoam replica of a car was suspended among some of the branches. And a Monte Python-like duel of small household appliances titled "Volley of the Nuts" was being waged, with the combatants wearing helmets in the shape of wing nuts. In another area, festivalgoers had the opportunity to build rock piles, including one that looked like a replica of Stonehenge. The festival attracted people of varying ages, including a number of parents with infants. Asked why he brought his 2-month-old daughter, Amaya, all the way from the town of Simcoe in Ontario, Canada, Chad Squizzato put it simply. "To learn some rhythm," said Squizzato, cradling his tie- dye-dressed daughter in one hand, and a bottle of Rolling Rock beer in the other. Article Copyright © 2003 Boston Herald