Dateline Manchester, TN
(This entry was written in a notebook on Thursday night and posted on the following Tuesday, after much R&R)
Thursday morning around 3am my friend Tony and I set out on the 560 mile drive to Manchester, TN. Two more of our friends, Sam and Blake would be following us later in the day, after they got off work. Our plan was to all camp together, and Tony and I were to secure a decent camp site.
Jenn was not feeling well and did not make the trip, leaving us with an extra ticket. Any concern we had about being stuck with a $200 bookmark evaporated well before we got to the festival grounds, as we sold it on the side of I-24 outside of Chattanooga, TN for “$260 and a kick-ass comic book”.
When we arrived at the site, around noon, the TN state patrol was in high gear, seperating the Bonnaroo traffic out from the rest of the I-24 vehicles and directing us through what looked to be an impromptu hole in the fence on the side of the road - no exit in sight.
Once inside the fence, we fended off the standard assortment of spare changers and ticket sluts while waiting for the cursory vehicle inspection and obligitory psychadelic wrist-band. We were through the checkpoint quickly and directed, turn by turn, to our camp site.
The next couple of hours was spent in abject frustration as we attempted to set up our tent. We had violated the sacred law of camping; “Never take a tent camping that you have never pitched before.” Eventually we got the tent assembled and the rest of our gear unloaded and it was time to check out the scene.
Even on Thursday there were a ton of bands playing, and we walked around and checked out most of them while the grounds filled up with other fans, which happened with astonishing speed. We began by wandering over to “This Tent” to check out I-Nine’s brand of spacy cello-pop.
We didn’t stay for the whole show, and spent most of the evening walking around checking out all the other bands; The Motet in “That Tent”, Matt Costa in “The Other Tent”, back to “This Tent” for dios (malos), and a quick tour through the vending area.
At midnight, we happened to be in front of “That Tent” when Toubab Krewe came on. Hailing from Asheville, NC, they combine Dirty South rap beats, West African rhythms and throw some samba in for good measure. Awestruck, we bounced along with the crowd until the show ended at 1:30am, and then we went and found Sam and Blake who had just arrived.
They had to park more than a half-mile from where we were, so we had to lug all their gear (including a full cooler) back to the camp site, since we were all sharing one giant tent. With all the shows for the evening over, and with everyone worn out from the haul, we turned in for the night, already making plans for Friday.
These are the ramblings of 
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