I don’t know about you, but I’M not throwing a party for Bush…
Seriously, I hear the same thing occurs outside town in certain pastures…never heard them called anything but “keggers” though…
I have been caught in Golden Ears after closing, but that’s another story. I grew up in Alberta and spent my high school years for the most part in the area around Athabasca - Lac La Biche. Bush parties happened every single weekend. Every time I went to one, Kim would be dancing on top of a truck and I would be shaking my head, wishing she’d sober up. Ahhh, youth.
Such parties are common in Alabama, where they are known as “Pasture Parties”.
Burning an old car wouldn’t be a normal thing though. Not because of environmental concerns, but because any car that could be driven to the party would be too treasured to burn. Old tires make good fuel for fires at such parties. They smell bad, but burn a long time.
As in Alabama, in Central Texas these are called “Pasture Parties” and are pretty common, mostly among the HS crowd.
I’ve always wanted to go to Burning Man. Something on fire, in the middle of a desert, and drinking water because its so hot.
What is this “invited” concept? Merely knowing the location constitutes your invitation, at least up here.
Bush parties are one of the great Yukon pasttimes. They happen just about every weekend during the summer. Not so much in the winter, due to the risks of somebody drunkenly wandering too far from the bonfire in the dark.
I’ve never been much into them. Wheee, let’s take bets on who gets drunk and pukes first. Agression levels tend to be high, and lately there’s been some crack fights. Dunno if the fight was over crack, or because they’d been doing it, but crack was involved.
Let me see.
Yukoners tend to burn pallets, outhouses, cook shacks, random patches of bush, each other, but not cars. Not unless we’re disposing of evidence.
I did NOT!!!
I start throwing up well before that stage. (The other reason I wasn’t much into bush parties. I usually lost by being the first to puke.)
And I’ve never been to Lac La Biche, either. 
OK first question:
WHERE THE HELL DO ALL THESE PALETTES (sp?) COME FROM???
First comment:
I know a lot of people from MRSS '98… not many bush parties, but I’ve been to a subdivision party and a cul-de-sac party out there!
The pallets come from 'round town. You drive around the freight warehouses and see which ones have stacks of 'em. Once darkness falls, you and friend with pickup go liberate a load.
Not hard in the Yukon, since just about everything we use and eat gets shipped up.
If we’re short of pallets, then somebody, or several somebodies, borrows a chainsaw and a pickup and gets wood. When my brother threw one for his 25th birthday, he stockpiled two cords for the festivities.
You steal the pallets from wherever you can find them. Plus your parents’ firewood (when you’re stealing the bottle of wine or liquor), cardboard from recycling bins, for- sale signs, and anything else that’s not nailed down that you can burn.
The BC “bush parties” sound exactly like Montana keggers of the mid-'80s (when I was of an age to indulge in that sort of entertainment). Never have heard the term “bush party,” though; to us they were just kegs or keggers, which AFAIK is still the term.
PLACE: Gravel pit, clearing in the woods, secluded lake beach, wherever we could (a) semi-conveniently drive to and (b) not get caught.
TIME: 10 pm and later, Friday or Saturday night, or both.
AMBIENCE: Flickering fire, drunk people shouting and laughing, Def Leppard or other big-hair band blasting from a pickup truck.
ENTERTAINMENT: For boys, hitting on girls; for girls, talking about which boys you like; racing down the dirt roads in the dark with the headlights off and the hazard lights flashing; drinking games; urban surfing (for the seriously drunk and/or stupid).
INVITATION: Word of mouth only, anyone could come provided they ponied up some alcohol and some burning material. If the party got to the point that fliers were printed up and handed out “covertly,” you didn’t want to go, because they cops would be there.
POST-PARTY ENTERTAINMENT: Sneaking in the house; burying your clothes in the bottom of the hamper to avoid explaining why they smell like wood smoke, cigarette smoke, and booze; laying awake wishing the bed would stop spinning; wondering how you’re going to make it through church if (when) you wake up hung over.
Truthfully, I didn’t go to many kegs as a kid. First, I wasn’t one of the really popular kids and, second, in my secret heart of hearts, I thought they were kind of boring. Unless a guy I liked was going to be there.
tisiphone That’s just it… I was soooo geeky and such an outcast in my little town that I didn’t hear about them until after they had happened.