Yonder Mountain String Band performs with guest drummer Jon Fishman on the Ranch Stage Friday evening (Nick Meador).

Past that inevitable cluster-fuck, the only hurdle was to set up camp with the meager space allowed to each car. Even at this point, I was still expecting my experience at All Good to give me an advantage. But you're given more space at that festival, not crowded next to your neighbors like it's a third-world slum. Organizers had painted white lines in the trimmed-down corn field, and cars were supposed to stay within them, so that an exit road was open at all times. That meant that each campsite was about twice the size of an SUV. Those who had came with a caravan of a few vehicles were given a considerable benefit, since they could shape their cars so as to make the camping space larger.

I mention all this now because, beyond these initial annoyances, there was very little to complain about throughout the weekend. I can count a total of four grievances: the poor warning about prohibited items, the small camping space, the mounted security guards, and the entry process into the music area.

I expected some kind of security or police presence at the festival, especially after reading that the Rothbury police force consisted of six part-time officers. The Michigan State Police who handled the traffic from the highway to the ranch were actually very amiable, and didn't seem too worried that things would go badly. But in a way, I think they were hoping for a riot, or a volcanic eruption, or something incredibly disturbing, so that they could say "told ya so" and kick Rothbury out of Michigan forever. They were acting creepy at first, like early Friday morning when I saw one State Police car slowly driving down my row of tents.

The same cannot be said for the mounted patrol, who were a rather terrifying bunch throughout the weekend. I had just watched Dr. Zhivago, so they repeatedly reminded me of the Russian police, preparing to massacre any groups who got out of line. I'm still not entirely sure what their role was at the festival. They weren't armed, but they must have had a considerable amount of power in their hands. Or perhaps their power was mostly in their presence, sitting high on top of a horse, capable of pouncing on anyone who broke their code of conduct. They trotted around the camping area the entire weekend.

Their company wouldn't have been so unpleasant if they had done a better job of picking up after the horses. By Saturday, most paths in the camping area had large piles of horse manure, or else stains from where it had fallen, every hundred feet. There's simply no way to completely remove horse stool from a mowed cornfield. As a result, it caked on your shoes and got tracked into your camping area, especially if you made the mistake of taking your shoes into your tent.

The mounties also made themselves known at the entrance to the music area. Most of the time, you could pass through this entry point with little trouble. Security guards (on foot) did their best to prevent you from bringing in any outside beer, pop, or food. If it was something they'd be selling inside, they considered yours contraband. It's always the business factor at stake. They weren't looking for drugs or guns or anything like that -- they were just making sure that you'd spend as much money as possible at the vending booths. Even if your CamelBak reservoir was full of water, you had to pour it out and then use a refilling station inside.

This only became a problem during the major rushes into the concert area. One of these rushes occurred as I was leaving the music area on Friday, July 4. All the "mainstreamers" -- as I refer to people who only came to the festival to see the mainstream artists like 311, Dave Matthews Band, and John Mayer -- were trying to get to Snoop Dogg's 4:15 pm performance. As a result, there was a massive crowd of people in line to get past the security checkpoint.

I thought this would have cleared out a few hours later, but I was wrong. Around 11:30 pm, the crowd was still not being handled well. People were chanting and yelling in protest, and some even tried to jump over the fence next to the security post, only to be turned away immediately. The darkness added to the chaos, since no one could really tell if the crowd was moving. I eventually pushed to the right side of the "line" and was through the gate after 45 minutes. Widespread Panic was finishing their set around 12:15 am, and I was nearing the front of the line, when the fireworks show went off. This pumped me with rage at the festival organizers. No one should have to watch a fireworks show from within a mob.

By Saturday afternoon, the mounted patrol were lined up near the short fence where people tried to jump over the day before. Leaving the music area after watching the Emmitt-Nershi Band, I complained to an employee at the exit. I asked him why the mounties were standing there, and if staff was going to improve the entry process. He had no good answers. The atmosphere of danger didn't subside until sometime Saturday evening. When I entered the music area at 9:00 pm to watch DMB, the security was practically waving people through with a quick glance into their backpacks or purses. They would still grasp the bottom of your bag to check for hidden beer cans, but in general they had accepted that things were going extremely well, and that it isn't feasible to thoroughly check every single person.

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