By day 'Boggies' is a biker bar. No bigger than a class room, all brick, with blacked out windows, and a rather unusual bunch of people outside. When night falls the real fun begins; music spills from every inch of the building, a line wraps around the block, and a different group of unusual people are bursting with energy excited to see the headliner. Max stands in front of the tiny opening, taking tickets, and marking under aged hands with X's. The door looks smaller next to the large bouncer.
Once inside "run down" is an understatement. Mirrors run along the wall, with old couches and merch tables in front. The smell of sweat, smoke, and beer fill the dark room. Vibrations from the bass begin and the music follows. This is when the pit begins to form. Once the circle opens the energy increases, and you can feel the excitement; everyone knows this is the beginning.
This is what we came for.
When everyone is together thrashing around, the moshing begins. The energy from everyone bouncing off of each other is the ultimate adrenaline rush, and at the edge of the pit I feel unstoppable. The ground vibrating my feet pushes me forward into the large crowd, I put in my mouth guard, and there is no better outlet. This is my favorite place to be.
Moshing is defined as "dancing to rock music in a violent manner involving jumping up and down and deliberately colliding with other dancers." To outsiders it is just that, but to the group of kids who look at the pit as an outlet, it's the most peaceful place in the world. A small group of people, swinging limbs in every direction, sweat pouring down the face of the...