Canyon Song Campout

Fiddle player Dan Andree used to drive 24 hours each way from his home in Illinois to hear music at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival. He’d started playing bluegrass around the time of his first visit, 18 years ago.  

“I remember the encore song was Sam Bush singing ‘Molly and Tenbrooks,’ an old bluegrass classic,” he says. “And I was like, ‘I got to learn that song.’ I sang it for years with my first band.” 

Since then Andree has returned to the festival more than a dozen times, pitching tents in various campgrounds, volunteering in exchange for a wristband, jamming, soaking up tunes and camaraderie for inspiration. He eventually moved to Colorado (he lives in Arvada) in large part due to relationships built at the festival. And now, his 15th year returning, he’ll be on the main stage playing fiddle with Clay Street Unit. 

Andree is one of many players and fans (“festivarians” in Telluride parlance) who make the trek deep into a box canyon between soaring San Juan peaks for the big summer bluegrass event. But as the regulars will tell you, it’s the music, yes, plus a lot more, that keeps them returning to the event founded in 1974. As folks gear up for music festivals across the country this summer—where they’ll be camping from tents, cars, RVs and tour buses, and scoping out spaces on lawns to listen—we talked with some festivarians to hear their tips and what makes Telluride such a special festival and camp experience.  

“You really got to pinch yourself when you're there,” Andree says of an outdoor scene with the organic sounds of bluegrass ricocheting off mountain walls. “I feel like that's what adds to the culture, the energy and the silliness and the vibe. Everyone feels so lucky to be back there, or to be there at all. There's this collective sense of letting the world outside of Telluride go. And you're all reminded of how good it feels to just be good to one another, to be good to yourself.”  

Andree wrote a song about all this in “Telluride Strawberry Moon.” But in order to understand the vibe,  it’s best to start in the campgrounds, a core part of the Telluride community experience.

“There’s, like, Kamp DukTape,” Andree says about the group that makes art out of the all-purpose material. “There's Camp Lampshade. They walk around with lampshades on their heads.” Camp Run-A-Muck, he says, has live music and a generator for a PA. They sometimes serve a signature shot for those who come through called the Crunchy Frog.  The Mash Tent is heated, which makes for better picking in cool weather. And then there’s the Goddess Walk, when all who feel goddess-like can parade through camp and collect offerings such as a bowl of ramen, a song, a drink. 

Lucas Ingmire first attended Telluride Bluegrass Festival in 2016, and he’s been going back ever since. Explaining the scene, he invoked the late “Telluride Tom” or “Mayor of Town Park” (given name Tom Heidger). The man passed away in 2025, but the memory of his speeches to unofficially kick off the festival from his perch atop a ladder in Town Park endure. “He always referred to this as his family reunion,” Ingmire says. “It really does feel like that. It’s kind of addicting. You go once and feel like you’ve got to go back.”

Ingmire considers himself a relative newcomer with his decade of Telluride experience. When he first considered attending on the invitation of the friend, he barely knew a thing about the bluegrass genre. “Maybe Mumford & Sons?” he says. He pulled up a website called the Festivarian Forum to do his pre-trip research. “I noticed all these special events and people talking like they knew each other for 20 years, and I realized that’s because they did,” he says. 

Wind the tape forward 10 years, and he now moderates the forum that gave him those first bits of advice. He helps organize some of the camp events, making sure they don’t overlap. He mentions Tater Tot Tuesday, fish frys, waffle breakfasts and a Stump the Chef contest involving wacky grilled cheese ingredients. 

“I think a lot of it was born out of an organic desire for community, and a desire to help each other out,” he says. “We live in such a tough world, and we have forever, basically. I think the more community we can have, the better.”  

Even with all the longstanding traditions, Ingmire and Andree say the camping scene and festival remain open to first-timers. “There's a little bit of change every year because there are new people and they assimilate,” Andree says. “It's very welcoming and collaborative. It's kind of building a new little community every year.” 

Andree works this feeling into his song about Telluride too. “One of the lines is you ‘start to remember what you used to know.’ That's how it feels when I go back there. It's, ‘oh, yes, this is how we should be to each other,’” he says. “This is how I should feel comfortable with the people around me and where I am and with myself. It's a special place.” 

In that spirit, both Ingmire and Andree have their tips for first-time Telluride campers. Andree suggests bringing gear for all seasons—from sunscreen to layers—as the temps can swing wildly even on days that feel warmer in midday sun.  

Ingmire recommends checking out the Festivarian Forum and using the search bar. Don’t be shy about asking questions, he says. And should you find yourself on a ticket quest, he points out the “sale” section of the site. “I would say if you have the gumption, you will go,” he says. “Tickets are in demand for sure. They sell out every year. But there’s always some leading up to the festival.”

Both Andree and Ingmire recommend arriving a bit early too. Each campground has its schedule for opening, just as they all have a different vibe. But in Town Park, for example, camping and events begin on Saturday before the festival. “We go to Telluride for 10 days,” Ingmire says. “It’s not just the four days of music.” 

Indeed, the dopamine rush of a Telluride visit seems to start even before arrival as trailers, cars and campers start to wind their way into the canyon. 

Ingmire, a Colorado native, drives eight-plus hours from Lafayette in the Front Range. He loves the first glimpse of Bridal Veil Falls as he heads into the canyon. 

Andree adds that all ways to Telluride serve as the scenic way. “The closer you get, the more stunning the views are,” he says. “The first indication that you're getting close, to me, is the Dallas Divide. It's between Ridgway and Placerville, and you come up on this pass, and it's just…the peaks are gorgeous, gigantic, jagged.” 

He mentions it in his song, too, he says, quoting the line: When you make that turn on the 145 / the San Miguel makes you feel alive.