Well. This was a hoot!
We took a weekend off of playing music to be fans of music -- lawn chairs, sunscreen, bamboo hats -- the works. It felt great to be a spectator.
But we didn't leave our instruments behind altogether.
Did you know that it's common at bluegrass festivals for musicians and fans alike to play in jam sessions scattered all over the campground? There are, like, packs of strolling minstrels with their guitars and fiddles just meandering until they hear some music that calls to them. Then they go join up and play for a while, then they move on when they've had enough.
It's bizarre, and so, fracking cool.
We wandered about, playing and singing long into the night, until about 2 am before we'd had enough. We slept for a few hours and did it all over again.
After the concessions closed, we ended up having to Postmates in some pizza. We had about seven hungry (read: drunk and pretty durned high) mouths to feed. Finding the rendezvous point with our driver in the middle of a full-out festival was definitely a bit of an ordeal, but it was well worth the hassle.
Plus, our buddy Banjo Brent somehow got put in charge of the golf cart for his volunteer job, so we had some wheels and pretty good company to see us through.
This was a band outing for the books.
We'll definitely be going again next year, let us know if you're looking to be a spectator with us.