Welcome!
Here is a summary of my experience at Bonnaroo 2007, along with a few pictures to help illustrate. Most of the pictures I took except, obviously, the arieal shots. Those, and many more, can all be found on the official Bonnaroo photo gallery.

So sit back, light some patchouli, put on some music if its handy and enjoy my story.

A brief history: (courtesy of Wikipedia)

The Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival is a four day annual music festival by Superfly Productions and AC Entertainment, first held in 2002. It is held on a 700 acre farm in Manchester, Tennessee, 60 miles southeast of Nashville. The festival features a diverse array of live music as well as craftsmen/artisans selling unique products, food and drink vendors, and many other activities. Sponsors of the festival are required to provide free activities for attendees.

The word Bonnaroo is a Cajun slang word meaning "a really good time." The name was chosen to honor the rich Louisiana music tradition that inspired the organizers' desire to provide many styles of quality live music for appreciative fans.

On January 10, 2007, Bonnaroo organizers Superfly Productions and AC Entertainment purchased a major portion of the site, where the annual music festival is held. The purchase of 530 acres encompassed all of the performance areas and much of the camping and parking area used for the annual festival; the festival will continue to lease another 250 acres that currently serve as additional parking and camping. Measured in a 2005 study, the economic impact of the event on Coffee County was more than $14 million in business revenues and more than $4 million in personal income.

Thursday, June 14:
Mike and I were up until 1am loading the truck, (just barely - we had to leave a couple things behind), and making final preparations. We got a couple hours sleep and hit the road at 4am sharp. The drive north was fairly uneventful. It took 10.5 hours to reach Manchester and we traded driving duties every time we filled the gas tank. We crossed from Georgia into Tennessee, back into Georgia, back into Tennessee, over mountains and gained an hour as we entered the Central Time Zone.

We hit the line of cars entering Bonnaroo about 14 miles from the entrance. They direct Bonnaroo traffic onto the road’s right shoulder to clear the interstate. We expected the long wait and had stopped a couple exits prior to top off the tank and visit one last real toilet. The line moved slowly, as expected, until we sat still for well over 40 minutes. We realized, (along with our fellow goers), that a broken down RV had held up the line, which was now far up ahead, (this happened a lot actually). We followed other car’s leads, jumped back on the interstate and whittled the distance down to around 7 miles. We then saw that at all the exits prior to Bonnaroo, cops were set up to allow oncoming traffic. However, they took liberal time, often talking with cars and each other for long periods of time – infuriating drivers such as ourselves. Back on the interstate and we closed the gap to 3 miles. While I fill bad for the poor souls who waited faithfully the entire route – there were far more cars playing leapfrog like we were. And this whole process to get in took 3 hours. Had we waited patiently – it may have been closer to 10. (There were rumored reports the some people waited 18 hours to get in…)

Once in the site, we were directed into lines where cars were alternately searched. The big thing about Bonnaroo is NO GLASS. What’s funny is that so many people choose to ignore such a simple rule. Many cars were seen, pulled over, pouring cases of warm, bottled beer into milk jugs. All that work did not appear fun and only served to hold the line up longer.

The young female volunteer who was to search our car, first asked standard questions:
“Do you have glass containers of any kind?” and,
“Do you have any LARGE amounts of drugs?”
I was delighted to tell her no on both counts and that we took pride in the fact that we converted all of our packaged food to Tupperware and not only did we not have any glass – we would have very little garbage to dispose of as well.
Music to her ears. Certainly searching our truck would have been a serious undertaking. It was completely full. We had left behind a lawn chair, guitar and bottles of water as they simply wouldn’t fit. She gave a cursory inspection and waved us on.

We stopped to have industrial armbands applied, which would serve as our all-purpose tickets to everything in Bonnaroo. Do NOT remove them, we were warned.

Then it was back to the line of traffic, on dusty roads, which curved around soon-to-be packed campsites. We were loaded into our site, (later we found out to be Camp Boba Fett), and let me tell you – they pack ‘em in there like squash. Car, tent, car, tent – a sea of metal and canvas.

We setup up two flags on top of the truck, Bob Marley and the Florida Seminoles, respectively. We had a large sun tent for shade, complete with table, chairs and stereo. (Bonnaroo puts on its own radio station on 101.5 fm, playing music from past and upcoming performers so you get a taste of everything.) One of the neatest things to witness was the instant camaraderie. All it took was someone to scream out “BONNAROO” and the hoots, hollers and yells spread out like a wave. From everybody. Every time. Me included.

Before I go much further… I have to explain that Tennesee, (like Florida and many other states), is in the middle of a drought. The ground is a mixture of dusty grass and some of the roads are simply bare dirt and rock. All on hilly terrain that is so familiar in the north. The ground was actually so hard that a tent stake would not go in without a serious pounding from a mallet. And even then it bent 50% of the time. And most noticeably in the walkways and roads – the ground was rippled, like water. Needless to say, dirt was everywhere.

We were setup and dining by sunset. Dinner consisted of hot dogs, chips and salsa, beer and a brownie for dessert.

The first band we were seeing, Clutch, didn’t start until 11:30pm, so we wandered into Centeroo in the late evening. We saw a drug deal along the way, (the first of many), horse mounted security, possibly the biggest tarp I have ever seen in my life, and a beautiful woman dressed in cowgirl attire. Gettyup.

Centeroo has only two entrances/exits and they are gated with security staff that searches each person upon entering. I suppose it is a needful process to keep out machine guns and bongs but it does create quite a logjam. Once in, you are free to roam to an abundant amount of activities:
Two main stages: the What Stage [capacity 100,000 people]
and the Which Stage [capacity 30,000]);
Three “Tents” which are actually permanent structures:
This Tent, That Tent and the Other Tent
As well as actual tents that encompass vendors, comedy clubs, video arcades, cafes, bars, a jazz club, and a movie theater. And while the music might not be playing full time, Centeroo is open twenty-four hours a day.

We watched Clutch at This Tent, (Aggravating names… everybody is suddenly Abbot and Costello when you ask for directions.), though the band put on an explosive show and it was a great warm up for the weekend.

Friday, June 15:
You wake up at 8:30 in the morning, whether you want to or not. That’s because the sun kicks the heat on about 8am and it takes about 30 minutes for you to realize that you are sleeping in your very own Coleman Eazy Bake Oven. And when you get up and look out of your tent – you see everything is covered with a sweet layer of dirt.

Naturally, nature’s duty is the first call to action. I stumbled the short four-minute walk to the nearest line of porta-potties – and got in line. Not really what one hopes for first thing in the morning, but everyone is in the same boat. Girls - still in their pajamas and ponytails with that cute sleepy-look still fresh on their face. Guys, shifting from foot to foot, hoping to dispose of long overdue beer. The line moved briskly, and the porta-potties were, for the most part, pretty clean. I ran into only a couple of them that were unusable over the weekend. But I have to say that Bonnaroo did a fantastic job of keeping up with them. (Thank god)

Back at the site, Mike and I made what would be our breakfast everyday: Eggs, bacon, hash browns and fresh strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries.
And a brownie for dessert.

A short while later, Mike’s friend Andrew stopped by for a visit and filled us in on the goings-on in his part of the site. Andrew was one of the first ones to arrive at Bonnaroo when they opened gates at midnight on Wednesday. And all of those first soles were pushed far into the reaches of the campgrounds – literally to the back. A sort of “land of the lost” where anything goes and usually does. Hard to believe it was more decadent than our current surroundings but I did not investigate it myself so I will take his word for it.

Cold War Kids was scheduled to play at 1:15pm, so I made my way leisurely into Centeroo after lunch. We were about a ten-minute walk from the concert field. I passed two guys in a shaded area holding a sign reading “Free High Fives.” Sorry to say, I didn’t take them up on it. I found That Tent where CWK were playing and it was overfilled with music fans, all eager to get out of the sun. I did not recognize the current song so I headed off to the official merchandise tent for shade and souvenirs. It wasn’t very crowded and I found an overwhelming selection of tee shirts, stickers, posters, blankets, buttons, bags, hats, etc. Just about every band had items stuck on a 40-foot wall. I made some smart purchases and headed to the music.

I had feared that several concerts in one large area would cause a distracting overlap in music, which was really not the case. The music from one stage drifted away just in time for new music to drift in. I got back to Cold War Kids to hear the last few songs of their set – all of which I knew. They sounded great.

Back at the site, Mike and I decided to head-in to see Kings of Leon. They started at 3:45pm and we got to the What Stage to find them already underway. It was then that I noticed my wallet was missing. Back to the site I went - where I found it… (just where I suspected I had left it). So I walked BACK to Centeroo to finish watching the Kings who are Bonnaroo veterans and produce some fantastic southern rock and roll. They overlapped The Nightwatchman, which is Tom Morello’s solo project. Tom is, of course, the guitarist for Rage Against the Machine and is personally responsible for making guitars produce noises that would make deaf people stomp their feet. He played a song (for the second time – for a music video - as he had warned the crowd) and got a super enthusiastic response. “Here is your reward…” he said after and with his acoustic guitar he proceeded to play "Guerrilla Radio" in a slow tempo. (I linked some songs so you can watch them on YouTube. Enjoy) Then he went on to play Woodie Guthries’ "This Land is Your Land" adding lyrics he said were originally removed to “...keep people like you from going to see people like me.” Pretty cool.

We headed back to campsite as the heat was heavy around us. Over the course of the weekend we would pass by many people that were just passed out. Not in their tent or chair - but along pathways and in concert fields. They simply dropped when the energy ran out. We saw women with nothing but colorful paint disguising their boobs. Then there were the color people... Half-naked and covered completely in green or red … color. It wasn’t paint really – it looked like water-color. We also watched a shell game along one of the campsite roads, (the roads are all named, like 6th Ave, and every intersection has street signs so you can find your way). The shell game was run by a foreign fellow with very nimble fingers. He flipped the little red ball back-and-forth under shells and suddenly stopped and asked who wanted to bet where it was. A guy threw $200 on the table and pointed to the far shell. The man took the money and showed him an empty shell. The next contestant watched purposefully and pointed to the left shell saying “I got $200 on that one.” He won to the dismay of the operator. We had a couple hours before the next show we wanted to attend and so dinner was a fancy New York Strip steak and garlic mashed potatoes. And a brownie, of course.

The sun was setting and the air was cooling down a notch when we headed back in to watch the enigmatic band, Tool. The gates at Centeroo found people being turned away for having cameras – something that was not a problem previously. Apparently, Tool was camera shy and had declined them into the concert area. I still brought mine in – security consisted of overgrown teenagers who all looked tired. And for that matter, there were thousands of camera flashes during the show. All Tool did was slow the line down. Thanks guys. (the pictures did not come out that great anyway) That aside, the band put on an incredible show, trying once again to prove itself to be the loudest band in the universe. I am convinced. They had a crazy laser show, which provided superb entertainment to many of the onlookers who were medicated in one form or another. They played a strong setlist that included “Stinkfist,” “46&2,” “I know the pieces fit,” “Vicarious” and ending with “Aenima.” The highlight of the show for me was during the song “Lateralus,” where singer Maynard stopped to introduce, in his words, “Tom Fucking Morello.” Mr. T. F. Morello came out with a white and chrome, doubled necked, electric guitar and proceeded to whip some ass in an intense instrumental.

Tool is a fantastic mystery as far as bands go. The singer is not really a frontman – in fact he sings near the back of the stage, and the adjacent jumbotrons never show the band members – instead they play the crazy music video-esqe images that Tool is known for. Still, they are an incredible act to witness.

Had to go back to the campsite after Tool ended early at 11pm. There were still 4 hours of music to go, including the infamous Superjam, but the combination of blistering hot sun and traveling back and forth 80 times that day had left me drained of energy and had created an uncomfortable chaffing that I don’t want to talk about.

Saturday, June 16:
8:30am. Like a clock. Saturday was the hottest day of the event. Which is weird because Saturday night would turn out to be the coldest… Go figure. So, except for the occasional venture to the porta-potties or nearby mist-tent, we did not leave the shade of our site. Which sucks because we missed a few great bands that played in the afternoon, including reggae guru Ziggy Marley. But yesterday’s events had taught us and there were many bands to see tonight so we sat and slept – near the ground, moving with the shade as the sun moved.
It was after dinner and near 6pm when we decided to head in. I grabbed a brownie for the road.

We dropped in to the What Stage to find a very talented Ben Harper playing. This guy can play slide guitar like nobody’s business. Seriously. He was a couple songs into his set when he stopped to introduce John Paul Jones – from god’s favorite rock band: Led Zeppelin. They played an amazing version of “Dazed and Confused.” Another song later he brought out Ziggy Marley, where the two teamed up on “Get up, Stand up.” Mike and I watched the rest of the set from a crowded but cool tent farther back. I will definitely be checking out more of Ben Harper’s music. His job is done.

When the set was over, a mass exodus of people left the field and we headed in. We got a nice patch of grass, up close and personal, to watch The Police in action. It was a long wait, made even longer by the fact that they showed the same video on the jumbotrons, advertising the Vegoose Music Festival in Las Vegas about 30 times.

But at 9pm the stage went dark and the crowd lept to their feet. They were solidly greeted by the famous trio and “Message in a Bottle.” There were maybe two songs that I didn’t know during the set – but they played the classics. “Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic,” “Roxanne,” “Every Breathe you Take,” “Walking on the Moon,” “Doo Doo Doo, Da Da Da,” “Synchronicity II,” and “Cant Stand Losing You.”
They were utterly fantastic - though Sting seemed a little disconnected from the crowd. Maybe he expected a surging group of beer-swilling crooners – when what he was actually playing to was the proverbial hippie crowd. It was impossible to attend any of the concerts without the faintest whiff of patchouli or marijuana. And while their set ended early, they came back for two encores and played almost everything I wanted to hear. Almost. “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” is probably my favorite Police song. “Spirits in a Material World” was missing as well. But the show was damn near perfect and was certainly unforgettable.

It was back to the campsite for a cold beer and a late-night brownie. After a rest, we headed back in to catch techno masters Sasha & Digweed in action. Due to technical problems, their set started late, (to the dismay of some very wide-eyed people, aka, most of the crowd.) But they came out with a hammering beat and dazzling lights to make up for it. It wasn’t long before I was claustrophobic, (and thirsty), and as I went to get refills for Mike and myself, I realized - walking through the dense, pulsating crowd – that I would never make it back in. And certainly not with two full-beers. I walked around the surrounding areas awhile, taking pictures, sipping beer – all the while hearing the music loud and clear. Mike came out, realizing the situation. We sat awhile listening to music and talking with different folks. I met a guy named Wil, a self proclaimed veteran of Bonnaroo though he was much younger than I. He recounted his drug intake that night and asked me of mine. I replied comically that we tried "a little of everything." He must of thought I was cool because as we left and said goodbye he called me his “friend for life.” Then we made our way over to Gov’t Mule who closed their set with an anthem version of “Warpigs.” Sasha & Digweed played until 5:15am and we got back to the campsite just in time to watch the sunrise.
And eat a brownie.

Sunday, June 17:
8:30am. Not feeling good. There are small sheets of sandpaper under my eyelids every time I blink. And my throat feels raw and painful. A sure combination of yelling and the inhalation of smoke, dirt, muck and who knows what else. I had noticed some people wearing handkerchiefs over the faces the night before. Now I know why. Curiously, I found that salty potato chips soothed my throat. I threw in a brownie for good measure.

We stayed shaded for most of the day, heading out to see Wolfmother at 2:30pm. We pulled up sorta close to the stage, which was already crowded. By the way – these guys kick ass. They are all about rock & roll and sound like they just stepped off a bus from the seventies. It is quite a unique sound… But the sun and my throat were annoying me so I retreated, planning with Mike to meet after the show. I ventured into Centeroo – still listening to the show – but wandering in and out of the shops, (and in and out of the shade!), inspecting the various wares. There were odd articles of clothing, pottery, hand wax molds, hammocks, environmentalist groups, music shops and mom & pop vendors. But big business was represented as well. Coleman had a huge tent to showcase lanterns, stoves and most notably, inflatable furniture – which were filled with bodies in various states of consciousness. Trojan stood nearby handing out free condoms. Gibson Guitars displayed lots of wares in the Sonic Village, which offered its own small, bluegrass stage. And in the very center of Centeroo was the fountain, a popular hangout in the hot sun. Wolfmother wrapped up their jamming set, and Mike found me near the giant bobble heads that look cartoonish and strangely familiar. Not sure why.

We headed back to the site for shade and refreshment but popped right back around 7pm to catch the eccentric White Stripes. Jack and sister/former wife, (they are not actually siblings and have been married and divorced. She was later the maid of honor when he remarried.), ripped into an amazing set. They played the new “Icky Thump,” “Blue Orchid,” as well as the Napoleon Dynamite song “Were Gonna Be Friends,” ending with the pounding “Seven Nation Army.” (Someone nicely posted the entire set on YouTube) Jack might be a little off of his kilter – but with a guitar in hands, he sounds like he was born with it. I mean, c’mon – there were only two of them on stage – and they made a hell’va lot of noise. Even she took a turn at singing. I look forward to seeing more of them. It was during this segment that a young red-head with green-eyes pulled up next us. Her name was Meagan and she was too short to see the stage over the crowd. I took a picture and showed her the camera LCD remarking, “This is what you’re missing.”
“Funny,” she said with a dry but friendly smile.

Widespread Panic was playing in the distance. A notable band and one of the true veteran bands of Bonnaroo, (I think they’ve played each one…), but Mike and I headed back to the site. We were tired, dirty and thirsty. Bonnaroo had kicked our ass. It was on the way home that night that constant foot traffic stirred up so much dirt that it looked and felt like a sandstorm. Blurry figures emerging from light and dark…
Luckily, the fucking chaffing had gone away.

I feel asleep listening to Widespread Panic in the distance.
They were the last band to play Bonnaroo, you see – and being the faithful veterans they were, they did not disappoint.
They played an extended set. For everyone else that ended early, they played longer – into the wee hours. I didn’t have a watch on at the time and couldn’t tell you if it was 1am or 3am. But I heard the finale. I heard the song crescendo and the overwhelming burst of the crowd. I smiled, alone in my tent. True, I was not there – with the crowd. But I was here, at Bonnaroo, sharing the same small patch of earth that would, incredibly, be the state of Tennessee’s 6th largest city for the weekend. (No kidding) And as the crowd came bustling back into the campsites, (hello sandstorm), they cheered back and forth. All it took was one person to shout “BONNAROO” and the rampage of cheers reverted – louder than the day we arrived. If I had had the energy I would have got up and given every single one of them a high five.
Maybe next year…

p.s. Monday, June 18:

We awoke at 6am to get an early start. We found our neighbors on both sides gone… fled during the night. People had left all day Sunday but the deficit in the fields appeared clearly now. We skipped breakfast and broke camp in an hour and a half. We headed out to see a friend and then to hit the city of Atlanta, where we caught the Braves vs. Red Sox at Turner Field (Braves won 9-4) hit a club named Tiffany’s and passed out in a hotel room. Tuesday, on the way back to Florida, we still came upon cars, some with Bonnaroo messages written on the rear windshields – all with a thick layer of dirt.
I honked to each one with respect, in effect saying: “Hey, I was there too, glad you made it, hope to see you next year, take care..."

The End