I’ve always been curious as to what the demographics is for percentage of students at CU who are actually from Boulder. More than 10%? Less? Regardless, you don’t have to be from Boulder to feel at home in this gift to humanity we call a city. To further iterate this, Boulder recently had the Boulder Hometown Festival over Labor Day Weekend—and the city most certainly did its best to make sure everyone did, in fact, feel at home. From artisans selling merchandise in tents, to good music, to a swarm of ducks—Boulder made sure to keep the festival lively and interesting.
I hadn’t been to the Boulder Hometown Festival before, so I was in for quite a pleasant surprise when I decided to wander down to Central Park over Labor Day weekend. I stumbled upon the festival by accident the first time, and the very first thing I saw was about 30 people sitting by the creek and watching about 10 other people paint. Probably one of the more Boulder things you can experience. I headed towards the army of white tents, and soon immersed myself in the merchants and all their goods. After being offered a multitude of free beauty products (I look like a Greek God now), I made my way do a clothing tent, where they were selling the most in fashion “hippy” clothing. Deciding that I probably shouldn’t blow all my money on another tye-dye shirt, my feet took me further into the festival, passing many incredibly intriguing tents, including one tent in which they made signs out of old license plates. In the background, a local band jammed its heart out as a few elderly couples danced to the music, and the rest of the crowd bobbed their heads and cheered on the dancers. Aromas from the food stands crept into my nose and I was overwhelmed by all of the possible feasts. It was then that I decided to head home for the day, before my bank account learned to hate me.
The next day was the Boulder Duck Race. Yes, I did buy a duck. Did it win? No. But it was a fun experiences. The Boulder Duck Race is pretty much exactly how it sounds, except that the ducks weren’t actual live ducks, much to my dismay. In any case, 4 pm rolled around, and it was time for the race. When the race began, at least a bill-ion (heh) ducks were released into Boulder Creek, and they proceeded to crawl as they all raced for the finish line. This year was a close battle, but in the end, a winner was decided. Unfortunately, it wasn’t my duck. I have a feeling that with my luck, my duck decided to quit and get itself caught in an eddy. Anyway, the winner was decided, and just like that, Boulder Hometown Festival came to an end. The vendors finished off their day’s sales, people managed to get their last orders in at the food stands, and everyone packed up. As sad as it may be that the festival was so short lived, one can always take solace in the biweekly Farmer’s Markets, and the fact that soon enough Boulder will have another amazing event.