Schedule conflicts kept Tadeusz away from this popular event which is only an hour's drive from home. Traffic/road construction stretched that time somewhat. There was additional parking available, but a half-mile march to the festival entrance. Some of the furries greeted me at the entrance and briefed me regarding some of the screening measures: a weapons check as the fox now bears a short sword (foam plastic), and all masked visitors were to be photographed with their ID and the mask/helmet to be worn.

I estimate at least ten suiters were at the fair, partials being the rule. One hardy soul, possibly two, were fully suited. It was dry and dusty and temps reached the upper 80s. I needed some liquid refreshment and the lines were long. It took about 20 minutes to reach the vendor. The line would've moved faster had there not been so much demand for turkey legs.
While waiting in line, someone tugged on my tail! Cosplay is not consent and I told the lady that was a bad idea and she could be removed from the venue. No one would dare to yank on the surcoat of an armored knight after all.

As a rule, I don't eat during an appearance as it required water to process the food. I usually have a pickle: It's cold, juicy, and provides some electrolytes. Chugged and Orange Crush and (later) a lemonade. Perspiring certainly, a bit sore from the soft soled shoes on the uneven ground--despite thick socks--but enjoying the festival nonetheless. Was even "arrested" and later "forced" to perform for the crowd!

Around five o'clock, it was decided to break for home. I was exhausted but survived the trudge back to parking. I removed my gear and some of my costume to realized how drenched in perspiration it was. My short boots--Italian Perelli work boots--were covered in dust. The red sash had collected some dust in the folds. Brown dye from the vest had seeped into the white shirt in a few spots. It will come out in the wash.

The trip home was a bit different due to lane closures on I-75. To return home to Bay County, one had to drive through Holly to US-23 NB. Once on the expressway, it was about an hour's drive home--much less for the crew cab cowboys racing along with impunity. Stopped in Bridgeport to top off the fuel tank at almost a quarter per gallon less than back home.
Photo by   goldenwolf2879