WEEKEND does Bonnaroo

It doesn’t sound like much just going to a farm in the middle of Tennessee for four days, but add 80,000 people — that’s around twice IU’s enrollment — and a couple hundred of today’s most acclaimed entertainers and you’ve got the pieces to make one extraordinary escape.

The Launch
I was headed to Bonnaroo for four days of sun, music and whatever else I could get into. Of course I was anxious.

Accompanied by five of my closest friends, we departed Wednesday in one bright blue van and one black Grand Prix. Our caravan stayed tight over the 300 miles from Bloomington to Manchester with very few problems.

To pass the time my friend Tyler and I played road games and freestyle rapped, pulling topics randomly from billboards and bumper stickers.

At one point I challenged Tyler to rhyme the phrase “Marengo Cave.” We probably sounded like idiots, but we were much too excited to care.

Our two cars turned to the same frequency and shared silent duets, pantomiming vocal performances across lanes of traffic to Top-40 songs such as Aerosmith’s “I Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” and Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me.”

We stopped only twice for gas and bathroom breaks and made it to Manchester in roughly six hours. The real test of patience began with the line to get in, though.

For hours, our cars slowly crept down the shoulder of the highway. Rumble strips and vehicles zooming by only inches away were an ever-present turbulence and there was nothing to do to speed the process, unless you were one of those jerks who cut in line.

Tyler and I watched “The Hangover” on his ipod, made friends with the cars around us and giddily squealed with delight as we finally got to the security check-in.
The staff searched our caravan for glass, drugs and weapons, so we ended up losing a baseball bat and a couple armfuls of 40s.

The same thought ran through all of our heads, I’m sure: This Bonnaroo would contain no chugging-and-spinning and no drunken baseball.

Inside
After our very minor setback, we finally pulled into our camping area around 5 a.m. and staked out camp in the morning glow. Upon completion, we high fived and chest bumped each other under Thursday’s first sunrays.

Even though I was incredibly eager to check out the rest of the compound, I decided to crawl into a tent and catch some sleep before the sun climbed too high into the sky.
It turned out to be a smart move because as the giant ball of burning gas and metal raised the temperature to triple digits, it became increasingly difficult to sleep.

Coming from an air-conditioned home and vehicle, the transition from a cozy climate to the inferno that is the Tennessee Summer was taxing, to say the least.

I woke up drenched in my own sweat, gasping and struggling to get out of my tent as fast as I could.

It was only 8 a.m. and the sun wouldn’t sink until at least 7 p.m.

The heat constantly threatened dehydration and sunburn, so we were sure to equip ourselves with gallons of water and sunblock with enough SPF to battle the onslaught of UV rays.

Not the slightest bit discouraged, we toured the campgrounds to see the facilities, vendors and especially the people of Bonnaroo.

“Hippies” is a bit of a misnomer, and in the humanitarian spirit of the festival, the attendees can be most courteously described as idiosyncratically yet practically dressed.

There were sombreros, rice hats, feather boas and umbrella caps to help provide shade and everyone was scantily clad, often shirt and shoeless.

Many women of the festival also forewent their shirts, opting to paint their breasts and bodies in bright colors and vibrant designs.

There was an air of liberation about the people and it was tough not to make friends or at least share a smile with each passerby.

One confusing gesture I frequently observed was all the water squirting. Whether it was a light mist from a tiny bottle or a large beam from a super soaker, the splash initially shocked the recipient, which led to an initial discomfort that typically turned into gratitude once its cooling effects set in.

Another oddity was the fact that everyone seemed to have lost a friend named “Molly” or “Sydney” and were very concerned about finding them.
They must be quite the popular girls.

Lack of water was typically the issue, though, and the ground was the thirstiest of all of us.

Huge clouds of dirt and dust stirred by the pedestrian and vehicular traffic and rolled through the farm.

“Dustaroo!” someone said from the crowd. “I feel like I’m in the ‘Grapes of Wrath,’” said another.

Another popular accessory were bandanas worn around the face in order to filter the dust from the nose and mouth. It resulted in a scene that felt very Western-cinemaesque. The only things missing were the tumbleweeds and gunslingers, as cowboy hats were popular around the fields and  mounted security police patrolled on horseback.

Water was available at designated stations throughout the festival and Garnier Fructis sponsored hot showers for a fee. Some people probably forewent the whole bathing thing, but there were high pressure sinks above troughs whose ice-cold jets were frequently used as showers.

Getting the dust off our bodies was an essential self-imposed task required for us to get into our tents once it finally cooled off enough to fall asleep.

Centeroo and Music
Oh yeah. Did I mention there was live music and all sorts of other activities?

The headliners of the 10th anniversary of Bonnaroo included Arcade Fire, Sleigh Bells, The Black Keys, Mumford and Sons, Eminem, Girl Talk, Wiz Khalifa, My Morning Jacket, Lil’ Wayne, Bassnectar, Pretty Lights, J. Cole, Best Coast, Wavves, Deerhunter, The Strokes, and Iron & Wine among many others.

Each stage was named something ridiculously vague, like “Which Stage” or “The Other Stage,” as to confuse patrons or at the very least test their spacial-mapping skills. The sizes of the stages varied from intimate to enormous for close encounters as well as epic affairs.

I managed to somehow find my way through the seas of fans to the frontmost pit directly in front of the stage for both the Arcade Fire and Eminem sets.
I could nearly touch Win Butler’s Fender as he ran out onto the catwalk extension.
Each night provided entertainment well past midnight, and people came out for every
bit of it as if sleep wasn’t a factor in their trip at all.

In addition to the music, Bonnaroo included comedy acts, movies, a sports bar for catching the NBA Finals and even interactive group activities like drum circles, yoga and gardening clinics.

Wheat Thins sponsored a way to beat the heat and hunger with an air-conditioned snack den full of all types of flavorful crackers. There were Eco-Fashion shows, panel discussions on climate change and even hula hoop lessons.

Exodus
There was never a dull moment at Bonnaroo; and after getting acclimated to the campgrounds and making friends with our neighbors, leaving felt like moving away from a hometown.

We packed our things in the middle of Sunday and said our goodbyes early to prepare for a quick departure after Explosions in the Sky.

The way this final show proceeded couldn’t have been more encapsulating.

The progression of the set accurately paralleled my Bonnaroo experience: crescendoing anticipation that finally burst into a magnificent feedback and reverb-drenched unexplainable noise of pure unadulterated joy.

I’ve already made up my mind. You can count me in for next year.