Experienced my first mosh pit. And my last. There I was, happy as could be, supa pumped that I was near front and center for David Guetta. Then he came on, and all of that changed. You know how I said there were 50,000 people at the festival? Yes, now picture them all rushing towards the stage and poor little Erin being in the way. Saw my life flash before my eyes. So then the girls I was with decided to haul ass out of there. Which was difficult and dangerous. It involved a lot of bashing. In the bashing, things were lost. People lost cameras, phones, money. Steph, Danielle and I, on the other hand, lost shoes. Yes, we all emerged from the crowd with only one shoe each. I felt it slip off my foot, but there was no turning back. That ship had sailed, as they say. I then had to make it out of the mosh pit wearing one shoe. People kept stepping on me. I had images of myself, foot in cast, trekking through Patagonia in December. But we made it out mostly uninjured and preceded to hop around Creamfields for the next 6 hours. Good times.
