Preddy Fest 2018

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For the past decade or so my family and I have gathered together for a week of reunion and recreation on the banks of the Tar River near Franklinton. We do this under the guise of attending Preddy Fest, a bluegrass festival which enjoyed its twenty-first anniversary this year.
 
The creator of Preddy Fest, Rodney Preddy, allows weekend ticket holders to come onto the farm and camp out the week prior to the concerts. We join the 200 or so campers who gleefully go a whole week without hookups (there is a shower house on the grounds). Some have fancy rigs with generators to power air conditions, others sweat it out in tents. Almost everyone has a golf cart for transportation – Rodney makes rental possible for those who don’t own their own.

This year my daughters, granddaughters, and two great-grands along with significant others set up camp: tents and campers, a canopy which served as a communal sitting, picking, eating area – and then it started to rain! Now, let me admit right on that I am a day-visitor. I live close by and sleep at my air-conditioned home in my own bed! I stuck out the rain, but when the thunder and lightening started I headed for home, sad to be missing the fun that my brave family had while ignoring the weather.

It rained all night and day saturating the ground sending vehicles slipping and sliding. Our compound was in a low section, but we managed to get in and out via alternative routes.
 
It cleared enough that I enjoyed listening to the jam session on Wednesday night. There I visited with friends, some of whom I only see annually at Preddy Fest. Thursday was a washout for me. Friday the sun peeked out in time for me the enjoy the night concerts. The stars were visible, the air cool with a little soft breeze. The cicadas added their chirping to the music coming from the stage. It was picture perfect. A relaxing evening with awesome music in the company of my family and friends.

I was on pins and needles to hear the Saturday weather report. Prayers were answered with blue skies and still moderate temps for an August day. By the time I got to the ground hopes were high for the mud to dry. I didn’t even have to resort to my 4-wheel drive to get in and out. The mood was jubilant, the music wafted through the 130 acres while the crowd sitting in their bag-chairs listened, visited with neighbors and old friends, and enjoyed hotdogs and burgers from the concession vendors. Children turned cart-wheels and played tag on the grassy knoll, taking breaks for ice cream and other confections.

I know there was more music played into the wee hours of the night (morning) after the concert ended. I didn’t stay, as I’m discovering having fun is a lot more work than it used to be. So, this old lady drove herself home for a good night’s sleep. I can’t wait to do it all again next year at Preddy Fest!


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