THE MUSIC FESTIVAL YOU'VE BEEN LOOKING FOR
It’s 7:13am my phone tells me, the numbers smearing between my cracked eyelids.
Gasping in the heat and humidity, I claw at an impossibly small zipper that burns my fingers, nearly ripping my tent open. The desert sun greets me like a battering ram and I crawl to the nearest shade, feeling instantly sunburnt.
Sleepy moans issue from the tent as I scrabble in the grass for a water bottle. It’s nearly boiling, the label melted off, but I unscrew it and drink lustily without hesitation. It takes two gulps before my body registers the contents as vodka, and my friend Okeefe’s day starts with the sight of me crawling under the car to throw up.
It’s April 13th 2012, and I'm at my first music festival.
Photo by Mark Holtzman (@westcoastaerial)
While I’m happy to say that I've come a long way from the booze-soaked polo fields of Coachella, I am eternally grateful to the experience that I had that blistering weekend in Indio, California. Ask anyone who goes to a music festival every year and they’ll have a similar tale - one of self exploration and shared joy, of leaving the real world for a few days to live your best life, meet beautiful strangers and push your brain chemistry to new extremes.
What they won’t tell you about as eagerly are the lines, or the losing of your friends in a sea of humanity right when it’s kicking in.
Record-breaking crowds for Kaskade are captured by a crane at Coachella.
The 15 hour drive home, running on gasoline fumes and your last endorphin, or the 30 minute walk from camp to stage in the dead heat. Nobody brags about the $11 light beers or ghost forests of broken and abandoned tents left on Monday morning.
If it seems like I’m going to tell you about something better, it’s because I am. It’s because someone else told me about it and reinforced a change of mind that had begun on that same booze-soaked polo field in 2015.
Photo by Jason Charme Photography
In 2000, while Coachella was struggling to recover from the $84,000 debt its first incarnation had accrued, Josh Clauson and his band Flowmotion threw a party on San Juan Island to raise money for a tour. It cost $10 once you were off the ferry, and the band provided you with a cup for the keg.
This grassroots party grew over the years, moving locations thrice before settling into the Darrington Bluegrass Music Park.
In northwestern Washington, nestled between a lazy river and a snow-capped mountain, a stone amphitheater abuts a modest stage and a historic log cabin. Dense forest hugs the gentle slope, and a meandering pathway leads to a sandy elbow in the river ideal for floatation. Unlike most festival grounds I’ve inhabited, you can lose yourself in nature here. You can actually unwind. Two weeks from now, three-hundred fifty staff and volunteers will host five-thousand attendees under the stars for the nineteenth Melt, a four-day weekend of swimming, camping and music.
Melters gather daily at the river to cool themselves.
Zoe Jakes of Beats Antique hypnotizes the crowd on Thursday night.
A few things to highlight here:
Five-thousand people is really small. This is an intimate experience in which you will recognize the same faces throughout the weekend, and they’ll recognize you. Not only does this make losing your friends a triviality, it encourages responsible conduct - you’re significant here, and your trace is measurable.
Photo by Jason Charme Photography
Thirty-four acres is really small. Walking from the far-end of the forested campground to the amphitheater takes less than ten minutes, and you actually pass a hidden forest stage nestled amongst the green on the walk. If you get stuck in the exposed meadow camping like I did last year, calm and clear water is a sleepy stroll from your tent.
Photo courtesy of the Summer Metldown 2018 Gallery
Despite remaining small enough over two decades to provide a relaxed, affordable and sustainable experience, Summer Meltdown boasts an expansive musical lineup that features some of the biggest names across numerous genres. Reggae, folk, hip-hop, rock, bass music and performance art all find a place on either the main stage or converted log-cabin-front-porch-turned-stage. This year we’re especially looking forward to sets from Tipper, G Jones, Yung Bae, Gramatik, Brother Ali, Dirty Revival, and of course, Flowmotion.
Last year’s Meltdown marked my 9th camping music festival, and it’s a relief to feel like I've finally found home.
Tickets are still on sale for single days, or, as Bump recommends, the whole weekend. If you’re into festivals, this is not one to miss. If you’re not, this is a great place to start. I wish I’d known about it sooner.
Bump will be covering the 19th annual Summer Meltdown Festival!
Keep an eye out for Zach hammocking amongst the trees, dozing off on the river or hustling to and from the photo pit. Check out his curated Meltdown ‘19 playlist below, and thanks for reading.
♥ Zach
