I was late to discover festivals.
The first I attended was in 2012: a small, invitation-only Irish music gathering called "Moon In June" — small enough that this solo parent could keep an eye on little kids while still finding time to play music. Years passed, the kids got older, and we discovered The Strawberry Music Festival. Last year we heard of another festival called "Ten Mile Creek Revival" — run in the same location and by the same organizers as the Kate Wolf Festival, long praised by friends as "the best festival." We ignorantly assumed it was in the Bay Area and bought tickets before realizing it was up in Laytonville.
Yes, it's a long drive. But we were charmed by the location (an oak forest with a creek running through it), the laid-back vibe (their logo features a river otter playing a banjo, which tells you everything), and the fact that some of our favorite bands — The Brothers Comatose and Dustbowl Revival — were on this year's bill.
It did not disappoint.
People who know me are often surprised to learn I'm not much of a concert-goer. As much as I love music, live concerts can be overwhelming and hard to navigate. What I'm most comfortable with is participatory settings where the music moves through me as part of what's happening. In other words, there have to be jam opportunities if I'm going to be around live music for more than a few hours at a stretch. I especially love playing bodhrán in quieter acoustic settings, so campfire jams are — well — my jam.
Ten Mile Creek is also emphatically family-friendly. Older kids speed by on bikes; barefoot little ones chase dragonflies or bob to music in the meadow. There are friendly people everywhere, and the whole place hums with an ease you can't manufacture.
This year, as Love Songs and Whiskey, we were sharing a campsite with a band that deserves to be on the main stage: The Musers. That meant abundant opportunities to make beautiful noise with great people, and we took full advantage. Some of my favorite moments of the whole weekend happened right there at the campsite, working out new music together between visits to see acts on the main stage or to take a dip in the creek.
There were some brilliant moments on the stages, too. AJ Lee invited a ten-year-old girl up to play mandolin on her favorite of AJ's songs — the kid absolutely delivered. BroCo brought a cohort of players from other acts on the bill up to the small stage for a rambling, joyful collaboration. There was great music from Wolf Jett, Las Cafeteras, Paul Thorn, and the legendary Iris DeMent.
But the moment that undid me completely was when Dustbowl Revival dedicated their song "Debtor's Prison" to me and my fiancée. I completely lost it. There were tears. I had to sit down and sob it out. Thank you so much, Z — that memory is going to be with us for a lifetime of joy.
So many glorious quiet moments, too: watching the moon rise over the mountains, wandering through the joyful noise of campsite jams, floating in the creek, and swaying gently in the hammock.
Words might fail me, so here's a whole bunch of pictures. Enjoy.
Click on any photo to see the full, uncropped version.
