Photo by Nicole Schwab.When asked if I was going to attend Country Thunder back in January, I immediately said no. I do not listen to country music unless my sister or friends force me to. The sweet symphony of nails on a chalkboard would be better than country music. But as April 12 approached thoughts of Country Thunder, the music festival in Florence, Ariz., began to sound fun. Why not go? My friends have all been telling me how much fun they’ve had and that a love for country music isn’t necessary.
I bit the bullet and bought my ticket a week before my friends were planning to leave. I borrowed a pair my friend’s “less real, more somewhat fashionable boots, ”packed a duffle bag full of white tank tops and Daisy Dukes and purchased enough junk food to feed a first grade classroom. I was ready to get my country on, or so I thought …
Day One: Thursday
Dierks Bentley performing at the 2012 Country Thunder. Photo courtesy Rick Diamond (Getty Images).As my sister and I approached Florence, the first thing I noticed was a man filling up his tractor at the gas station. “What have I gotten myself into?” I thought. I always associated country music with hicks and hillbillies and dirt.
About an hour later we arrived at our “Crazy Coyote” campsite and began to set up the ole homestead. I was fine with camping but skeptical about spending four days with solely country music filling the air.
Once camp was situated, we gathered our things and headed into the area. I braced myself for the night that was about to ensue. Almost immediately we encountered old high school friends who invited us back to their campsite. We sat, talked, laughed and enjoyed each other’s company until we realized Dierks Bentley was about to come on stage. “Who is that?” I thought. Oh well, I couldn’t stay there alone, and I did play money to be here, so I followed.
As soon as Bentley hit the stage I found my foot tapping to the beat and my head bobbing along to his lyrics. I like him, he isn’t bad, and who is he again? Regardless of the country twang that underlined the entire concert, I loved it. I began to tell myself that I could do this. That night I happily fell asleep to the sounds of country music blaring from our neighbors’ speakers.
Day 2: Friday
Sleeping in a tent is not a luxury by any means. Everyone was awake by 9:30 a.m., sleep-eyed and dirty. We sat around looking at each other — what do we do now? Thankfully a kind cowboy came rolling up in his jacked-up truck and offered us a ride. Normally I wouldn’t get into a car with strangers, but this was Country Thunder, you follow the cowboy’s lead. We all hopped in and took a ride around the campsite. Let’s just say it’s not called Crazy Coyote for nothing: People were already drinking by 10:30 a.m. We got to the cowboy’s campsite and were instantly bombarded with howdies and hellos. It wasn’t awkward, uncomfortable or unpleasant. Everyone was there to have a good time and listen to good music. These country vibes were really getting me by the time night rolled around and we were standing front row for Jake Owen, one of the two singers I actually wanted to see. Owen singing about never wanting to grow up and never wanting to slow down captured the carefree feeling that surrounded the entire arena. I could’ve stood and watched Owen and Big & Rich for hours. Their untroubled outlook took over the crowd and made it seem like there wasn’t a worry in the world. “I can get use to this,” I thought.
Day 3: Saturday
Sleeping in a tent was beginning to get to me. I was dirty, smelly and felt as if I hadn’t slept in years. But it’s Country Thunder, right? Isn’t this what I signed up for? I didn’t say a word when
Nicole and Taylor Schwab at Country Thunder, complete with near authentic western styling. Photo by Nicole Schwab.we had nothing but Chewy bars to eat for breakfast and when lunch rolled around we ate squishy hamburgers for the third time in a row. It was cold and windy and my good country vibes were beginning to fade away. My feet hurt too. As we approached the arena, though, I sucked it up. I kept picturing the night before and how much I enjoyed myself. Let’s be honest: I’m a sucker for live music, whatever it may be, so I kept a smile on my face as we squeezed our way through the massive crowd to the front. Blake Shelton was performing that night and all I really knew was that he’s on the Voice and sang a song about bees. But man can he put on a show. Once again I found myself tapping along to songs I didn’t know and attempting to sing along with my friends. I was thoroughly pleased with myself for making it this far into the festival and was honestly happy I came. That night we finally met our neighbors and sat around a campfire for hours. Everyone was getting along swimmingly and I suddenly realized that I would most definitely return to this place.
Day 4: Sunday
Saturday night really did everyone in, so most of slept until the heat of the tent became unbearable. Once we were all awake we began to slowly pack the car. Everyone was moving slowly, not because we were tired, but because we all knew we had to leave the fantasyland that is Country Thunder. Reality would set in about 12 hours from then when we were back on the road home. But we still had time. Since no one was playing during the day, we reacquainted ourselves with our neighbors, met a few more of them, and spent the day hanging out and having a good time. Once 7 p.m. rolled around we were running to the arena so we wouldn’t miss Allen Jackson, a man I was honestly not interested in seeing; but I ran alongside everyone trying to soak up the last bit of euphoria that I could. Once Jackson had performed a few of hits hits and I realized all he was going to do was stand with his guitar, I got bored. My head began to pound with a migraine and I asked my friend and sister to leave early with me. I was Thundered out.
On the drive back to Phoenix I confirmed the fact that I would return to Country Thunder. As Blake Shelton sings, we all got a hillbilly bone down deep inside, and I had discovered mine. Country folk aren’t all rednecks and hillbillies; but even if they are, they’re damn proud of it. It’s that kind of energy that sucks you in and keeps you coming back for more. Country music is about the simple way of life and the little things that bring us joy. Most country songs are simply about the things that bring the singer the most joy. They are about having fun and not taking for granted the precious things in life. Every single artist that set foot on that stage played a song for the troops and showed genuine appreciation for their services. They mentioned the love they had for the fans and continuously thanked us for attending. Most artists of different genres do not take the time to appreciate their roots and the people who made them into the person they are today. Country musicians make no apologizes for who they are or where they came from and I seriously admire that. Maybe some of the people at Country Thunder weren’t there for the music; I certainly thought I wasn’t. Country music stole my heart, though, and I am mighty fine with that.
Reach the reporter at mary.schwab@asu.edu
