Your go-to guide to US music festivals (camping edition!)
There is a moment, sometime in the first few hours of your first camping festival, where you realize you’ve just walked into a whole new world. You’ve just pulled into the security line, strangers walking past your car are dressed like hippies or in costumes or not wearing much at all, and everyone looks like they know something you don’t.
You’re not wrong. They do. But you’re about to find out 😉
I came into this world through Okeechobee Music Festival in 2020. It was right before the world shut down and decided to take everything fun with it for a while. Looking back, I think the timing was almost poetic. Four days in a field in Florida, surrounded by strangers who became something like family, music moving through me in ways I hadn’t felt before. I didn’t know it then, but that festival was truly a PORTAL (I mean… they call it that for a reason, right?). I absolutely think it was the catalyst that led me into the life I live now.
I’ve been on every side of this festival world. I’ve attended as a first-timer with no idea what I was doing. I’ve worked festivals, seen the machinery behind the magic, watched the whole operation from the inside out. And I keep coming back, every year, because nothing else quite replicates what happens when you put that many people in a field and point them all at the same music.
This is the guide I wish someone had handed me before my first one.
Heads up: This post contains affiliate links! This means if you click the link and make a purchase, we receive an affiliate commission at no extra cost to you. Your support helps me continue to travel and share my experiences with you, and for that I am forever grateful!
Table of Contents
Finding Your Festival (it’s not one-size fits all!)
Before anything else, you have to pick the right festival. This decision is worth making intentionally, because not all festivals are the same experience, and the wrong fit can color the whole thing.
A few things worth sitting with: What music actually moves you? How do you feel in large crowds? Are you someone who thrives in organized chaos or needs a little more breathing room?
Three festivals I can speak to personally… and do, to anyone who will listen lol:
Okeechobee Music & Arts Festival
This festival has recently made it’s comeback after a two year long break and will (hopefully) from here on out, be held every March in the Florida swampland of Okeechobee. I’d say this one sits in a sweet spot between boutique and massive when it comes to size.
The lineup is genuinely eclectic from electronic, jam, hip-hop, indie, and more… all in the same day. Honestly, these multi-genre fests are probably some of the best. Then there’s the culture it attracts, being one of the most open and community-minded I’ve experienced anywhere. It’s also unexpectedly beautiful?? Spanish moss, a lake that catches the light at golden hour, a quality of atmosphere that makes the whole thing feel slightly dreamlike.
It draws people who are there for the experience as much as the music, which changes the energy in ways that are hard to articulate and easy to feel.
Bonnaroo
OH the Tennessee institution. And for good reason. Bonnaroo is big, and known, and fully committed to the bit. The lineup tends to be one of the most ambitious of any festival in the country, spanning genres without apology, and the culture is warmer and more communal than its size might suggest. I think it’s rather telling about a festival when you can go and meet people who have been attending year after year for over a decade. Roovians, as they call them. I think I might be on my way to earning that title, too.
Electric Forest
If you want to understand why people become festival lifers, Electric Forest makes a strong case. Set in a forest in Michigan with lights strung through the trees, it creates an atmosphere that feels genuinely removed from the rest of the world. Almost like you’ve stepped sideways into somewhere that operates by different rules. The electronic and jam focus attracts a crowd deeply, almost philosophically committed to the community aspect of the space. And boyyy does Sherwood (the main festival grounds that weave in and out of the trees) have a life of its own entirely separate from the stages. It rewards wandering. I’ve had some of my favorite festival moments there without any music playing at all.
And for a runner up: Hulaween. Spirit of the Suwannee Music Park does something special in the Florida woods every Halloween season that is worth every bit of the cult following it has built.
The point is, the festival landscape is vast and genuinely varied, and there is one out there that is exactly right for you. Take the time to find it.
The Gear You Should Always Pack
Let me be honest upfront: You need a few more things than you think. But as there is with everything in life.. there’s a balance to be made. This list is an attempt to save you from the most common versions of that mistake. Consider it an opinionated guide to what actually matters.
Shelter & Sleep
- A tent that’s big enough to house you and the belongings you’ll sprawl out by day 2. OH. AND MAKE SURE IT HAS A RAINFLY.
- An air mattress
- And an air pump!
- Pillows and blankets, or a sleeping bag! Some fests get chilly at night!
- Earplugs. Renegades (late night sets taking place in the campgrounds) will often be going till sunrise
Shade & Weather Protection
- A canopy – this is your home base and your saving grace in the afternoon heat
- Weights and rope as backup anchors for your canopy
- Tapestries or sheets to hang as walls for shade (this really allows your space to come to life too!)
- These clips are my favorite to attach them, and are reusable! Zip ties work, too.
- TARPS. For under your tent and, maybe more importantly, as backup rain coverage
- Scotchgard your tent before you go if rain is any possibility, which it always is
- Extra stakes and a mallet
Camp Setup
- Camping chairs.. Or even go the next level and grab you an air mattress couch (CLUTCH)
- Outdoor rugs – sounds like overkill, but trust me for a cozy vibe!!
- Battery-powered or solar string lights and lanterns
- A headlamp or flashlight
- Battery-powered fans. Heat kills sleep faster than noise does
- Trash bags, because leave it better than you found it
- A Jackery or other power station to keep everything charged
- A shower bag and a pop-up shower tent (if you’re feeling fancy!). Fests will have actual showers you can pay for, but it’s a luxury not to have to lug your things to them.
Food & Cooking
- A cooler. But freeze water bottles or jugs before you go and use them to save on ice!
- A camping stove and propane if you plan to cook hot meals
- Basic cooking tools. A pot, a pan, utensils, plates.. you know the deal
Personal Comfort
- Shower wipes or baby wipes. Even if showers are available, there will be days you need a quick reset between sets and a wipe-down is the move
- All the obvious toiletries, sunscreen, bug spray
Clothing & Footwear
- Comfortable, broken-in shoes are not optional. You will walk more than you think, on terrain ranging from dusty to muddy to everything in between. My trusty, dusty Doc’s haven’t failed me yet (going strong since 2019 hahahah)
- Layers, because again, mornings and nights can get colder than you expect
- An emergency rain poncho
- But of course, ALL YOUR FUN FESTIVE OUTFITS, TOO!! These are places of self-expression! Wear the thing that will make you feel like a fairy and make your inner child smileeee
The Daily Carry
- Fanny pack or small crossbody you can wear hands-free
- A pair of good-quality earplugs! Loop or Eargasm is the way to go. Protecting your hearing is COOL.
- A hydration pack or large reusable water bottle – most festivals have free refill stations
- Portable chargers, plural. These ones honestly never fail me.
- Emergen-C and electrolyte packets
- A small first aid kit. Blister bandages especially
How to Actually Take Care of Yourself
This section is the difference between a great festival and one you spend half of recovering from. I’ve had both kinds.
Food & Hydration
There’s a running joke in the festival community about ‘surviving off of 2 hours of sleep and a singular chicken tender.’ And yes, people do it. But the amount of times I’ve witnessed someone wilt at festivals because they forgot to eat a real meal is genuinely staggering. You’re outside, moving constantly, probably drinking (among other things). Your body is working hard and it needs actual fuel. At my most recent festival, our group made a deliberate decision to prioritize real food at every meal, and by day 4 came around, I was still up, bouncing NONSTOP for the last like 6 hours we had left with those stages.
We went entirely cold – no cooking, no cleanup – and ate better than we had at festivals before: premade pasta salad, boiled eggs, rotisserie chicken picked up on the drive in, overnight oats ready to go in the morning. Nutritious, easy, zero effort when you’re running on three hours of sleep and need to be back at the stages by noon.
Hydration is equally non-negotiable. Heat, dancing, and alcohol is a dehydration trifecta, and the symptoms – headache, fatigue, sudden inexplicable irritability – are easy to mistake for other things. Drink water before you think you need it. Hit the refill station every time you pass one. Keep electrolytes in your daily carry and actually use them.
Sleep
Here’s the unpopular opinion: protecting your sleep is one of the most strategic decisions you can make at a festival. Now I know how that sounds, and I’m saying it anyway. Because by day three of a four-day festival, the people who slept are the ones still genuinely enjoying themselves. The people who didn’t are horizontal in their tents missing the headliner they drove eight hours to see.
You don’t have to go to bed early every night. But pick your battles. Decide in advance which nights you’re staying up till sunrise and which ones you’ll let yourself recover.
Alcohol & Substances
I’m not going to lecture you. You’re an adult at a festival, and the culture around both is real, widespread, and part of the landscape. What I will say is that pacing matters more than most people account for on day one, when the energy is high and the excitement of finally being there makes everything feel sustainable. A festival, however, is a marathon, and the people still dancing with genuine joy on the last night are almost always the ones who treated it that way from the start.
Now, as the icon himself, T-PAIN, said at Okeechobee this past year: “If you’re trying something new.. Take half. And wait an hour.” Honestly.. Some pretty sound advice hahahah
And if you’re dabbling with ANYTHING. Do your research. AND TEST YO SH*T. Some of the best resources for this are Bunk Police and DanceSafe.
The Mental Side
FOMO at a festival is a specific, potent beast. There are always three things happening simultaneously that you want to see, and choosing one means missing two. Make peace with this before you arrive, because the alternative (spending the weekend anxious about what you’re not experiencing) is a waste of a festival.
Overstimulation is also SO real, especially your first time. It is completely okay.. more than okay, genuinely advisable, to go back to your campsite for an hour in the afternoon and do nothing. Sit in a chair. Eat something. Let your nervous system exhaleeee. The festival will still be there when you return, and you’ll meet it better for having rested.
Navigating the Lineup Without Losing Your Mind
The lineup is probablyyyy the reason you came, but it will become the source of the most stress if you let it.
Before you go, look at the schedule and identify your non-negotiables, the artists you would genuinely be upset to miss. Everything else is open.
And I mean that. Leave it open.
Because nobody tells you this about splitting up from your group – and you will split up from your group, inevitably, at some point across the weekend – it doesn’t have to be a crisis. Yes, have a plan. Pick a physical landmark and a meeting time before you separate, because festival cell service is notoriously unreliable and “I’ll just text you” fails more often than it works.
But if you lose each other anyway? Let it be an adventure.
Suddenly, you’re untethered, moving at your own pace, with no collective decision to make about which stage to go to next. You follow whatever pulls you. You stop when something catches your attention. You end up talking to a stranger you never would have met if you’d stayed with your people, and an hour later you’re watching a set together like you’ve known each other for years.
That spirit of wandering is also what opens you up to the moments that become the ones you talk about for years. Some of the best experiences I’ve had at festivals had nothing to do with who was on what stage at what time. At Electric Forest 20204, late at night just moseying through, I heard the sound of a piano drifting through the trees and decided to follow. Somewhere in the forest, an attendee had found the grand piano placed among the lights and was playing. Really playing. He drew a crowd without trying, strangers stopping mid-walk and suddenly choosing to call this spot home for a while. Nobody wanted to be the one to break the spell. It was one of the most purely beautiful things I’ve witnessed at any festival, and it wasn’t on any schedule. Years later, anyone I talk to who was in those trees that night lights up immediately when it comes up. I can only imagine what the pianist felt, knowing the impact he left on so many.
The Social Side — How Festivals Become More Than Music
Now I want to tell you about Frog Man.
His name isn’t actually Frog Man, it’s Mitchell.. But Frog Man IS who he is. He showed up to Bonnaroo solo in 2022 and ended up camped next to us. Naturally, we welcomed him in the way you do at festivals, which is to say immediately and without much deliberation. Everything he owned was green. Everything was decorated with frogs. He was just a guy who really loved frogs and really loved music and wanted to be wherever both of those things were happening at once.
I’ve run into him almost every year since. We find each other in the crowd, or at the campsite, or wandering between stages, and it feels like running into family. He has made an impact that has genuinely stuck, all because he showed up fully as himself, and we happened to be nearby when he did.
That is the social magic of a festival distilled into one story.
Your campsite neighbors are not an inconvenience. They are an opportunity. Introduce yourself early. Offer something: a drink, a snack, a hand with their canopy in the wind. The return on that investment is enormous.
Some other ways to create more of those moments intentionally:
- Bring something to give away. I suggest, now, bringing something useful (as our poor planet is dying and it can only take so much more single use plastic trinkets), that becomes a small exchange between strangers.
- Trading Kandi, the beaded bracelets that have become a staple of festival culture, also comes with its own ritual. It’s a specific handshake, a little ceremony that takes ten seconds and somehow carries real warmth. PLUR: Peace, Love, Unity, Respect.
- Clothespins with positive messages are another option, and it creates a fun lil game for you, too. See how many you can clip people’s outfits without them noticing, just leaving them something to smile about when they find it later.
And then let’s not forget about the music itself.
The social experience of live music is something I don’t think gets talked about enough. There are moments in a crowd, locked into the right song at the right time, when something happens that I can only describe as dissolving. The music moves through you and through the person next to you and through the thousands of people around you, and for a moment you are all the same thing. One organism, breathing together, feeling the same thing at the same time. It is one of the most spiritual experiences available to a human being. And it happens in a field, in the dark, surrounded by strangers who are briefly, not strangers at all.
Coming Back to Earth. That Post-Festival Recovery
All good things must come to an end, right?
Physically, your body has been put through the WRINGER. The 48 hours after a festival are not the time to hit the ground running. Sleep. Drink water. Eat something that didn’t come out of a cooler. Let yourself be slow without guilt.
Post-festival depression is a real, widely experienced phenomenon, and it catches people off guard because it arrives right when you’d expect to feel relieved. You’re home, you’re in your own bed, everything is objectively fine. And yet something feels… flat. The colors of ordinary life seem slightly muted after days of that much stimulation. The quiet is too quiet. The routine feels thin.
Trust that it passes. And the way through it is not to dismiss it but to understand what it’s telling you: that you found something out there worth missing. That you were genuinely, fully alive out there in a way that everyday life doesn’t always make easy. Let yourself sit with that for a day or two.
But here’s what I’ve come to believe about the post-festival come-down, and it’s the thing that has helped me more than just planning the next one: the feeling you’re grieving is not exclusive to festivals. It just lives most visibly there.
At a festival, you give yourself permission to be fully, unapologetically yourself. You wear the thing. You dance without checking who’s watching. You talk to strangers like they’re already friends. You follow the piano music through the trees at midnight because something in you said to.
For four FULL DAYS, you let your inner child make the calls.. and it turns out your inner child has been waiting a long time for that.
The come-down hits hard partly because you’ve just spent several days living at a frequency that everyday life rarely asks of you. And then you go home, and the frequency drops, and it feels like loss.
But what if it didn’t have to drop so completely?
What if you…
- Complimented the stranger in the coffee shop whose outfit you love.
- Went down the slide at the park you walk past every day.
- Turned on your favorite song and danced around your kitchen like a fool.
- Said yes to the spontaneous camping trip.
- Wore the ridiculous hat on a Tuesday.
The whimsy and joy you find at a festival lives in you, ALWAYS. And I strongly believe that integration is the real cure to the shock of returning back to “normalcy.”
Not just planning the next one (though absolutely do that too.. get back in the group chat and let the anticipation carry you) but finding the small ways to bring that version of yourself home with you. The version that is freer, warmer, more willing to be delighted.
The version that follows the music through the trees.
Be the first to comment