This was the question posed to my mom and I at the grocery store after the checkout guy spotted our RockyGrass wristbands. "Oh yeah!" we laughed, and began to chat about the goings-on around town. Lyons was buzzing with festivarians; everywhere we looked there were people carrying lawn chairs and pulling wagons or coolers full of necessities for three days of music in the mountains. When we arrived at the campground the host stuck us in a space no wider than our car, just big enough for the tent and folding table. He referred to one group of people camping next to us as "a bunch of bacon-cooking, beer-drinking hillbillies, but they're nice guys." As summer comes to a close, so does one of my favorite seasons: that of the outdoor festival. I have just returned home from yet another festival, The Four Corners Folk Fest, my last for this year. We saw The Black Lillies perform twice, once at the Pagosa Brewing Company and at the festival the following day. Every year I am introduced to some amazing band I've never heard of. These guys were, without a doubt, my favorite.
I was exposed to the euphoria of summer festivals at a young age. From the time my brother and I were in diapers until age 5 my parents took us to the Telluride Bluegrass Festival almost every summer. My love of the folk and bluegrass genre didn't develop until I was in college, as I remember when I was in high school and I stayed home when one of my now favorite bands came to play in Albuquerque (earlier this summer I drove to Santa Fe to see them perform). The festival scene is a world in itself. There is something magical in the air during these three day events, whether it is being in the presence of so many talented musicians, dancing and hula-hooping under the stars, or walking through the campground listening to late-night jam sessions.
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