Versch also knows that connoisseurs consider camping the best way to overnight at a music festival. My hippie son, a veteran of this sort of thing, couldn't imagine doing it any other way when we started talking about going to Merlefest. The idea of taking tents, camp stoves, and sleeping bags seemed cumbersome. But Dancin' Dave's link on the Merlefest website offered campsites where everything was set up and ready.
I had camped as a child, but never like this. I unzipped the front door to discover that our cots were up, sleeping bags open, and a little broom was stashed under the step stool that doubled as a bedside table, with a battery-operated lamp as a bonus. Camp seats and a collapsible cooler were stowed neatly in the corner, and rugs carpeted the floor.
Merlefest brings nearly 80,000 people to Wilkesboro, population 4,116. All of those folks have to stay somewhere, so makeshift campgrounds spring up in the soccer field behind the YMCA and several other places served by a fleet of shuttle buses. This has been going on since 1988, evolving from an idea to raise money for Wilkes Community College with a concert in memory of Merle Watson, who had been killed in a 1985 tractor accident.
For four days, the college campus becomes a peaceable kingdom. Old timers and mountaineers in overalls settle back in canvas chairs and tap their toes, while dreadlocked young men and women dance like dervishes. College kids gyrate in hula hoops, and some baby boomers lounge around with books to read between acts. Babies bounce up and down to the music, while their older siblings toss Frisbees and their parents stretch out on picnic blankets. It's a huge crowd, yet somehow it doesn't feel overcrowded. There is room for everybody, with fiddle strains and banjo rhythms swirling around, and friendly local folks acting like good hosts.
