Nestled way up in the mountainous town of Quincy, California, the High Sierra Music Festival is surrounded by thick, noble pine trees that soar up toward the sky and is placed alongside the gracefully winding Feather River. For those city folk who have an itch to escape the highrises and incessant clamor of traffic yet still don’t prefer the solitude and serenity of traditional camping, this is a golden opportunity.

The Devil Makes Three

The most striking aspect of this festival is its community. The people at High Sierra manage to be both tight-knit and extremely inclusive at the same time. When the gates open at 8:00 a.m. on Thursday, hoards of festival-goers pile into vans and load their camping gear onto U-Hauls driven by a gregarious crew of staff. Next comes the conquest for a good camping spot and, with limited space within the “prime realty” (Shady Grove is the way to go), it’s wise to arrive sooner than later. Once the tents and shade structures are assembled and the coolers are filled with ice, everyone sits back and relaxes for a while. That’s when the real magic begins.

Good vibes and positive people are paramount to this experience. By the end of the four days, my crew and I had swapped stories, shared meals and drinks, and made friends with some truly interesting folks. I guess that’s why once you go to this festival — it’s practically impossible not to keep coming back year after year. Just within the campgrounds, I experienced more fun than a bag full of monkeys. I took part in impromptu jamming circles that randomly popped up around the tents. I danced on a trampoline in front of a DJ booth to a remix of Soft Cell’s “Tainted Love.” I hula-hooped in front of a giant psychedelic bus, lounged in hammocks, and even took a shot of god-knows-what out of an ice luge.

Cornmeal

As you might be able to tell, I had so much fun at the campgrounds that it sometimes kept me from the music and fairgrounds. But alas, it is time to move onward! On Thursday, I was wooed by the soft ballads of Everest and the funk-driven grooves of Lubriphonic. My only complaint is that they both played during the same time slot on two different days, so I was unable to catch an entire set of either. Then, to get in a good healthy fix of folk and blues, there was Devil Makes Three on Friday. Saturday and Sunday were dominated by Dusty Rhodes and the River Band, as their high energy and undeniable charisma knocked the socks right off my feet and into outer space. Of course, the violinist of Cornmeal won my heart last year and still holds onto it now.

The opportunity to get up close and personal with the artists is an inestimable feature of this event that can’t be experienced at festivals like Coachella or Bonnaroo. The small, intimate Troubadour Sessions allow fans to get closer than they thought possible to their favorite musicians, and the Artist Playshops provide various educational demonstrations, from vocal harmony methods with Paper Bird to drum techniques with Galactic. Although I wasn’t initially aware of it, many artists were doing signings of their albums at the music vending booth. Some time after hearing Everest’s first performance, I moseyed over to pick up a few albums (theirs being one of them), and was asked, “Hey, do you want that signed?” “Huh?” I asked. “They’re right over there,” I was told and directed toward the adjacent signing booth. Although I’m a new fan, it was still great to chat with the members of Everest for a few minutes.

The High Sierra Music Festival is a truly magnificent event for many reasons. It connects really awesome people, weaves them into an amazing community, and connects the fans with the artists in a number of unlikely ways. Now, a word of advice to next year’s first-timers: Don’t skimp on the amount of sun block you bring, buckle up, and be sure to drive the speed limit. The cops in Quincy are more vicious than a pack of sharks swimming in a pool full of blood.