Bonnaroo: A Veteran’s Tale

Do not be fooled. This may look awesome, but the water from this mushroom fountain is anything but.

I partook on a wondrous adventure with my best buddy Katie this past June [Editor’s note: I thought I was your best buddy 😦 ]. It is not a dangerous trek as we know the journey like the back of our hand. We packed all the necessary supplies: a tutu, every non-perishable food item you could possibly think of, several cute bikinis and other clothing articles of the adorable nature, and enough sunscreen to sink a boat. That’s right, this is an article about that journey. This is about Bonnaroo.

I do not jest when I say we had a tutu. Or, more accurately, Katie (Above) had one. She also bought fairy wings despite my pleas that they would hit people in the face. (They did.) 

Now, I know I’m late to the game on this itself because June seems a million light-years away by now, and I don’t really have an excuse as to why I’m writing this so late. All the articles on the bands themselves have long since been written, but, I can assure you, I will try and keep this fresh. 

Bonnaroo from the Ferris Wheel.

First off, I must say that Bonnaroo is not for the faint of heart. If you are not accustomed to large crowds of up to eighty thousand, cramped sleeping areas that may be broken into (Ours was. I lost two t-shirts and Katie’s fairy wings were bent in the process [Editor’s note: Oh, the casualties of war]) and portable toilets, overly expensive food and beverages, large amounts of…questionable…substances floating around, dirt being in the worst of places on your body, and loud music and people that stretch well into the early morning hours, then Bonnaroo is not for you. Run the other way. Stop reading. Go back to your cushy, clean lifestyle while you can. Not even the RV’s you can technically rent can save you from all of these feats.  

The closest I got to any stage. It was a glorious moment.

An article about Bonnaroo would not be complete with a testament to the music. We only saw one bad band (stay away from Das Racist so long as you live to save your precious years from their “rapping” that still is grating on my ears), so, you can imagine my reviews are glowing. I rocked out to Red Hot Chili Peppers, got misty-eyed to Bon Iver, and swayed to Radiohead. I screamed the lyrics to all of Childish Gambino‘s songs, danced my white-girl dance to Major Laser (I like to dub this as “Baby’s First Rave.” It was…certainly an experience), sang along with the surprisingly large amount of Fitz & The Tantrums fans, and smiled fondly at Temper Trap while they did their thing. While all this is well and good, a music festival isn’t a music festival if you aren’t introduced to some new tune-age while you are there. Ever heard of a band named Orgone? Here We Go Magic? Two Door Cinema Club? Well, let me tell you, they are certainly worth a look because, they were just fun. And, I’m all about fun especially when it comes to music. 

Happy people. I still do not know how they got that top hammock up there.

But, there’s more to Bonnaroo than the music and the filth. It’s also about just being happy. I cannot tell you how many people would just come up to me and expect a high five and “woo-hoo” or a “Bonnaroooooooo” as casual banter amongst strangers. Why does this happen? Because it’s Bonnaroo that’s why. You’re covered in dirt, haven’t slept in four days, and, despite your efforts of protecting yourself, have burning sunburn. But the best part: so is everyone else. And everyone else is there for the same reason as you: a deep love for music. If you don’t have that, then I have nothing to express but sorrow for you, sir. You are truly missing out on one of the greatest experiences of all time.

Arguably the most perfect examples of the female species. Katie (Left), Me (Right).