Tucked away in the quiet rolling hills of Darlington, Maryland, between rows of soy and corn readying up for harvest, The Ramble Festival has become one of the East Coast's most beloved independent gatherings — a three-day blend of music, art, and family that feels less like an event and more like a homecoming. In our years, the festival has grown from a COVID-19 lockdown-inspired project into a can't-miss stop for touring musicians and fans alike.

Each October, as the air turns cool and the leaves catch fire, hundreds upon hundreds of fans roll into Camp Ramblewood to celebrate the season and the scene.  The lineup mixes national headliners with rising talent, and the atmosphere is all heart — food trucks serving local favorites, pop-up art installations scattered through the trees, and that unmistakable Ramble energy where everyone feels like part of the same big, joyful family.

At the Ramble, spontaneity is part of the design. The mighty Naptown Brass Band leads a parade through the campground to the opening act at The Moon Stage and through the fields after a headliner's encore. A secret acoustic set could break out by the pond under the moon. Kids dance beside parents, artists join each other's sets, and everyone seems to know the lyrics by the second chorus.  The Ramble campground is filled with buskers and is alive with art and a kaleidoscope of kinetic art.   It's a place that thrives on connection — between people, between sounds, and between the moment and the music.

As much as we may try to highlight what happened on-stage at The Ramble Festival, the true magic of The Ramble Festival is the vibe, the sense of community, the sense of Ramble Family, and having something for everyone - from wee infants to those who have worn their knees out from decades of music.  To go to The Ramble Festival is to find your home away from home, your community, and connect with everyone from a Vibe Tribe volunteer to an artist, a vendor, or a busker.  This connection and community are built into the very fabric of The Ramble Festival and will endure, no matter how large the festival grows.

Now in its fourth year, The Ramble continues to evolve, finding new ways to bring people together while maintaining its small-festival soul.  The 2025 edition proved once again why fans return year after year: the music was world-class, the community was strong, and even a looming Nor'easter couldn't break the spirit that makes this weekend special.

Part I: The Calm Before the Ramble

After months of anticipation and the buzz of a growing storm, Ramble Festival 2025 finally arrived in Darlington, Maryland. A Nor'easter was climbing the East Coast, kicking up anxiety from Maine to the Chesapeake, and no one knew if it would hit Camp Ramblewood. In true Ramble fashion, though, no one let it stop them. The vibe was clear: stay cool, trust the weekend, let the music and vibe instilled in the heart of the festival handle the rest.

By Thursday, the storm still hadn't landed. Instead, Ramblewood woke to blue skies and air so crisp it almost hummed. The fields stretched open and golden, the tree line bending just enough to catch the wind. It felt like a good omen.

This year, the Ramble crew introduced something new: the PreAmble to the Ramble, a soft opening just fifteen minutes down the road at Hopkins Farm Brewery. Fans arrived with broad smiles and cold beers, kicking off the weekend with Uncle Kunkle's One Gram Band and The Dirty Grass Players. The grass was green, the sunset spectacular, and the energy had that familiar mix of anticipation and ease that always comes before something special. The sound of music rolled across the field as people danced barefoot, bundled in flannels, and toasted to fall.

By Friday morning, Camp Ramblewood was in full motion. RVs lined the roads, tents bloomed in clusters, and the smell of camp coffee mingled with woodsmoke. The festival had officially outgrown its parking lots, and most guests parked offsite and rode in on shuttle buses. Waiting in line, they were serenaded by buskers who played to smiling faces and tapping feet.

When the buses arrived, Brick and Jay, the Ramble founders and soul of the operation, were right there greeting everyone.  They handed out high-fives and shouted "Welcome home!" to every new arrival. It wasn't marketing — it was genuine. The kind of small touch and heartfelt personalized authenticity that sets Ramble apart from bigger festivals.

The storm still hovered somewhere out to sea, but no one seemed to care. There was too much light, too much laughter, too much sound. The festival had begun, and Ramblewood was alive again.

Part II: Day 1 — The Honeydrops and the Baptism of Joy

Friday arrived bright and clean, with a sky so wide and blue it felt like the festival had willed it into being. The Nor'easter that everyone had been worried about was still spinning somewhere out at sea, and the only wind in Darlington was the kind that carried music.

By midmorning, Camp Ramblewood was fully awake. On the Ramble Stage, The Moran Tripp Band, presented by Heady Wax Fiends, opened the weekend with an easy confidence that set the tone. Their set drew the very first of those to arrive at Ramble from tents, cabins, and RVs, shaking off their arrival at the festival to head over to the Moon Stage.  

Baltimore's own Caleb Stine brought a quieter warmth—his songs rolling out like conversation among old friends.  Stine, a stalwart of the Baltimore music community, showed why he is ever-present in the community - he is a tremendous human and a tremendous musician.

Inside the Beer Hall, Dizgo launched into their first set at Ramble, and it was clear why festival co-founder Brick had booked them.  Their groove was deep and hypnotic, a mix of jam and dance that filled the hall and left people buzzing.  The Ramble creatives once again found lightning in a bottle before the rest of the world knew what was about to hit them.

Later, TreeSap, a stripped-down trio from Cabinet, delivered a tight, acoustic performance that let every note breathe.

Outside the Beer Hall, the first of the now-infamous and cherished Ramble secret set popped when Sneezy cranked the Ramble dial to 11. Their mix of funk and soul spilled across the campground, attracting Ramblers like moths to a flame.

Then came Cris Jacobs, another Baltimore legend, playing with the ease of someone who knows the crowd is on his side. Midway through his set, members of The California Honeydrops drifted onstage, smiling and unannounced, turning Jacobs's show into a spontaneous collaboration. The brass section gleamed in the late-afternoon sun, and the field roared in approval.

By sunset, Ramblewood had settled into that golden-hour calm—the short pause before the main event. When The Wilson Springs Hotel finished their set, the crowd shifted toward the Moon Stage, ready for the first of the weekend's headliners.

The California Honeydrops came out swinging. Their frontman, Lech Wierzynski, led the band through a groove-heavy opening set that felt more like a celebration than a performance. The Honeydrops don't just play shows—they throw parties, and this one hit full stride right away. Lech announced that the second set would be all fan requests, and the band rolled effortlessly through deep cuts, crowd favorites, and spontaneous jams.

Down at the front rail, a member of The NapTown Brass Band stood with a washboard, playing along from the crowd with an ear-to-ear smile. Lech spotted him, laughed, and waved him on. During one of his many onstage laughs, he must have thought to himself, "Guess we don't need ours tonight." The California Honeydrops showed why they were the headliners - they shine best in concert. At a music festival, that is where their legendary performances are created, and Ramblers will be talking about this set for years to come.

When the Honeydrops closed their second set, the music didn't end. Instead, the NapTown Brass Band fired up their horns and led a parade through the crowd, marching everyone from the Moon Stage down to the barn. It was pure joy—trumpets, trombones, and drums turning the night into a moving street party under the stars.

In the barn, the celebration only grew louder. "Noodles at the Dizgo", a mashup of Natalie Brooke's Band and Dizgo, picked up the energy and ran with it. Natalie, celebrating the release of her new double vinyl "Measured In Moments", was unstoppable on the keys. The Honeydrop infusion was not over yet, just a few minutes from getting off-stage, Oliver Tuttle from the Honeydrops joined in on trombone, and suddenly there were three horns blasting through the walls of the fabled Ramble Barn. When The Naptown Brass band tore into "I Miss You Baby," the room erupted in euphoria. The NapTown Brass Band capped it off with "When the Saints Go Marching In," turning the barn into a full-on brass revival.

Meanwhile, outside by the firepit, an acoustic jam formed around the flames—buskers, friends, and strangers sharing songs deep into the night.

Back near the main field, the Honeydrops were spotted again, laughing with fans at Steph's Cereal Bar, bowls in hand as old cartoons flickered on a sheet behind the bar. It was that kind of night—music everywhere, joy around every corner.

And still, it wasn't over. Around 1 a.m., Joe Marcinek and an ever-changing lineup of guests kicked off the Late-Night Super Jam, an improvisational marathon that stretched well past 4 a.m. Rumor had it Joe wanted to play until sunrise, but even Ramble has to sleep eventually.

Part III: Day 2 — The Flock Comes Home

Saturday morning arrived with a soft, silvery light that crept through the trees and across the dew-soaked fields of Camp Ramblewood. The crowd was moving a little slower, heads fuzzy from the Honeydrops' marathon of funk and joy the night before, but smiles were everywhere. Coffee cups clinked, and the sound of a distant guitar eased the campsite awake.

The first thing on the schedule was quickly becoming a Ramble tradition: Greg Ormont's Scrambled Greg Kids Show in the barn. The Pigeons Playing Ping Pong frontman, known for his boundless energy, swapped the stage lights for the glow of morning and an audience half his usual height. Parents packed in with their kids as Greg strummed through classics like "If You're Happy and You Know It," only to flip it into an interactive, laugh-filled workout. "If you're happy and you know it, jump up twenty times!" he shouted, counting along as kids bounced and giggled. Midway through, his daughter joined him onstage, smiling shyly as she sang along. For a moment, it felt less like a performance and more like a family singalong — which, in the Ramble world, is exactly the point.

Outside, the sun climbed higher.  Underground Springhouse, visiting from Georgia, hit the Ramble Stage with a punchy, confident set. Their blend of funk and southern jam carried a swagger that fit the mood perfectly.  Underground Springhouse really brought the crowd alive and we really cannot wait for them to travel up to the DMV again - once again, the Ramble creatives find magical acts we have never heard of.

Children who once frolicked in the barn had moved onto the dedicated kids section of the Ramble Festival and were now painting and engrossed in dedicated activities.  With the children gone, Nester brought the festival's heavier edge, all low-end growl and grit. In the Beer Hall, The Deer Creek Sharpshooters returned to Ramble after two years, greeted by a crowd that welcomed them like old friends.

The buzz of the day built steadily toward one of Ramble's biggest breakout stories: Sneezy. After their surprise late-night set on Friday, their Moon Stage debut was one of the weekend's must-see shows. They delivered a tight, electrifying set full of horns, harmonies, and raw joy. Near the end, frontman Brett O'Connor called festival co-founder Brick onto the stage to thank him for building a place where a band like theirs could thrive. The crowd roared its approval.

Meanwhile, out in the quiet of the labyrinth, TreeSap performed a secret acoustic set under the trees. There were no lights, no amplification — just strings, harmonies, and the faint rustle of wind through the leaves. A small group of wanderers stumbled upon it and stood in silence, taking it in like a secret they'd never share.

The afternoon rolled on with more stellar performances.  The Plate Scrapers brought their bluegrass finesse to the Ramble Stage, drawing an enthusiastic crowd of dancers and pickers. Then came Infinity Tribe, a collaboration between Natalie Brooke and Alex "Gator" Petropulos of Pigeons. The Beer Hall shook as they tore through a blistering set that blurred the lines between jam, rock, and dance music.

The Brothers Comatose arrived, decked out in silver NASA-style jumpsuits, joined by their newest "sister," Addie Levy. They tore into their set with playful energy, and Addie's soaring rendition of Fleetwood Mac's "Rhiannon" sent shivers through the crowd.

Then came the moment everyone had been waiting for. As the sky turned purple, Pigeons Playing Ping Pong took the stage. For Baltimore's hometown heroes, fresh off the release of their eighth studio album "Feed The Fire", this felt like a victory lap, just a stone's throw from where it all began. From the first burst of color and sound, the Flock was in full flight. The first set was tight and funky, full of favorites, but the second was pure magic. The Ramble creative team strutted in front of the stage dressed in full pigeon onesies, pulling out paddles and a ping pong table to rally glowing balls back and forth in front of the stage. The crowd howled with laughter as the band fed off the chaos and eventually launched into a spectacular cover of the Pixies' "Where Is My Mind."

Midway through, Natalie Brooke reappeared on keys, adding her signature swirl of funky synths to the mix. It was the kind of moment Ramble specializes in — spontaneous, joyful, completely unrepeatable.

When the set finally ended, the crowd was still buzzing when they heard it: the blare of horns cutting through the night. The NapTown Brass Band was back, leading a late-night parade from the main field to the barn. Inside, Underground Sneezhaus — a hybrid of Sneezy and Underground Springhouse — kept the energy burning. The jams were loose, wild, and fearless, spilling past midnight without ever losing steam.

But even that wasn't the end. In the wee hours of the morning, for the super-late night set, Jeremy Schon, Pigeons' guitarist and one of the weekend's Artists at Large, appeared in the barn for his own late-night session, joined by Luke Walker from the Natalie Brooke Band and Uncle Kunkle's One Gram Band, decided to burn their magical match at Ramble a little longer than anyone might have expected as they played until 4:30 in the morning, running through a mix of deep jams and crowd-pleasers that blurred into sunrise.

By dawn, Camp Ramblewood felt timeless — a place outside ordinary life where sleep and time had lost their meaning.

Part IV: Day 3 — The Ramble Ascends

Sunday morning at Camp Ramblewood was a picture of calm. After two long nights of nonstop music, laughter, and motion, the festival grounds exhaled. Mist hung low over the grass, and sunlight began to filter through the trees in soft, gold patches. You could feel that the weekend had already become something special, but the Ramble still had one more day to give.

The morning kicked off on the Ramble Stage with Pappy, who turned the early hours into something gentle and warm. His kid-friendly set drew a big crowd of families. Parents sat on blankets with coffee in hand while their kids clapped and danced along to his bluegrass tunes. The songs felt like sunshine — easy, familiar, full of love.

Not long after, the distant rumble of brass began to build. The NapTown Brass Band was on the move again, their sound winding through the grounds like a joyful summons. They led a parade of festivalgoers past food trucks, art installations, and the now-famous Ramble See-Saw, which had already needed repairs twice thanks to nonstop use. The scene was pure happiness: people spinning in circles, kids perched on shoulders, everyone smiling.

Then it was Natalie Brooke's turn to take over the Ramble Stage. If Saturday night had crowned her one of the festival's brightest stars, Sunday confirmed it. With her keytar slung low, she tore into her set with total confidence, blending funk, synth rock, and prog with fearless energy. Towards the end of the performance, Jeremy Schon arrived as he always did as artist-at-large, joined her, and together they delivered one of the festival's standout jams. The crowd loved every second of it.

Inside the Beer Hall, Muscle Tough kept things tight and experimental, their rhythmic precision a sharp contrast to the looser outdoor sets. Back outside, Cisco, last year's busking competition winner, showed exactly why he'd earned his spot on the official lineup. His soulful voice carried over the crowd like it belonged there all along.

Then came High Fade, a trio from Edinburgh, Scotland, who stunned everyone with their sheer force of sound. The band looked like three regular guys but played with the intensity of twenty. Their set was fast, fierce, and overflowing with energy. When they finished, the applause was deafening.

Over at the Beer Hall, Yarn followed with a honky-tonk set that got people two-stepping. Their mix of country grit and jam-band looseness hit perfectly on a Sunday afternoon.

In the barn, the 2025 Busking Competition took over next. The festival's best street performers faced off under glowing string lights, playing for a chance to earn a real set next year. It wasn't about prizes so much as heart — each musician leaving it all out there in front of a roaring, appreciative crowd.

Then came one of the weekend's biggest surprises: The Ramble Band Plays Dead, featuring Cris Jacobs. Nobody knew what to expect until the band walked out and the secret was revealed. Backing him was none other than Dogs in a Pile, alumni of earlier Rambles and fan favorites. The pairing made perfect sense. From the first notes of "Scarlet Begonias," the chemistry was obvious.

A few drops of rain started to fall, but no one moved. After three days at Ramble, the crowd had learned to trust the weather, to let the music carry them through anything. The drizzle became part of the show — just enough to cool everyone down as Cris and Jimmy Law traded guitar lines like old friends. For a few minutes, the whole field seemed to hang in balance between the music and the rain. When it ended, applause rolled like thunder.

Out by the pond, away from the noise, The Deer Creek Sharpshooters played one last secret set — just acoustic instruments, quiet voices, and the reflection of moonlight on the water. It was simple, peaceful, and the perfect way to close three days of chaos and beauty.

The night carried on inside the Beer Hall with The Tan & Sober Gentlemen, who brought a rowdy blend of Celtic folk and Southern grit. Midway through the set, their bassist stood balanced on top of his upright bass, beer in hand, playing without missing a note. It was ridiculous, hilarious, and perfect for Ramble.

Finally, the Moon Stage lights came up one last time for The Infamous Stringdusters, who were celebrating twenty years as a band. They spoke about how they'd heard stories of this little Maryland festival from fans across the country, and how now they understood the hype. Their set was equal parts technical mastery and soul, closing with a brand-new song from their upcoming anniversary record.

But Ramble doesn't end quietly.  While many festivals start to wind down on their last day, The Ramble Festival keeps the vibe, music, and spirit alive to the very last minute.  When the vibe is this strong in a festival, why not keep it Ramblin' all festival long! 

When the Stringdusters finished, the NapTown Brass Band appeared once more to lead the crowd toward the barn for the grand finale: The Ramble Fam-Jam. Practically every musician still on site joined in — Natalie Brooke, Jeremy Schon, the Dogs, Sneezy, Underground Springhouse, The Fitzgee Brothers, and more — all packed onto the small stage, swapping solos, laughing, shouting, and playing like they never wanted it to stop.

The jams stretched late into the night, until the air inside the barn was thick with heat and the rhythm of the music.

Epilogue: After the Music Fades

By Monday morning, the fields of Camp Ramblewood were quiet again. The sky was clear, the air smelled like wet grass and woodsmoke, and the only sounds were zippers, laughter, and the thud of tent poles coming down. After three days of music, it was hard to believe it was over.

The Nor'easter that had threatened all week barely brushed past. The storm came and went like an afterthought, leaving only a few sprinkles and some dramatic clouds. What stayed behind was something much bigger: the feeling that the Ramble Family had built something that couldn't be shaken.

Everywhere you looked were small reminders of the weekend's energy. The Ramble See-Saw stood at rest, scuffed from nonstop use. The stages were quiet now, but you could still picture the lights and the crowds. The barn smelled faintly of beer and brass, and the path to the pond was stamped with footprints from those who'd found the Deer Creek Sharpshooters' secret set.

The 2025 Ramble had pulled off the impossible again — three days of near-perfect weather, stacked music, and the kind of community that most festivals only dream of.

The vibe leaving camp was pure afterglow. No one seemed quite ready to let it go. The conversations were already about next year — the lineup, the art, the possibilities. Ramble had set a new bar for itself, and everyone knew it.  

For those who were there, it was more than just another festival. It was proof that good music, good people, and a focus on vibe and community will turn a weekend in rural Maryland into something unforgettable.

The Ramble family will return October 9-11, 2026. Get the cheapest tickets for the 2026 edition right now with your 2026 Ramblin' & Gamblin' Pass.  Based on the trajectory of the festival and the continued rise in energy and lineups, there is no doubt that the Ramble creatives will strive to surpass the 2025 edition, making it the must-attend festival of fall 2026.  One can only imagine what new treats, additions, and Rambling Shenanigans await us next year.

A Slight Post-Script, with the spirit of helping our music community and others:  

As many of you know, The Ramble Festival is deeply committed to making the world a better place - especially off the stage.  We, too, embrace making the world a better place and would point out some of the organizations who worked tirelessly at The Ramble Festival this year.

• For those who ate at Stefs Cereal Bar, this was not just a refuge serving hungry festival goers 24/7, but also one that is deeply committed to feeding at-risk youths.
• Please also consider giving back to 5 Points Music Sanctuary, who provide music therapy, hearing loss advocacy, and hearing accessibility to those attending live music events.
• Did you win any raffles by Positive Legacy at The Ramble Festival?  They integrate music and service to benefit people and the planet, providing grants to environmental and humanitarian service projects.  They fund these endeavors through raising money at live music events around the world.  

Do Good – Every Jam Saves The Bay

A saying on a sticker someone gave me (at a music festival of course) that I try to actively incorporate into life as much as possible.  The Annapolis Baygrass Festival, for the third year in a row, made that entirely too easy.  Including all three elements into the foundation of the event that has continued to grow, is what organizers managed to execute flawlessly at the 2025 rendition.

Do Good – Every Jam Saves The Bay

Not only does a portion of every ticket, drink purchase, and Baygrass merch sold go directly to the non-profit partners recognized repeatedly throughout the weekend, but the setting also raises awareness.  Organizations working to restore and protect the Chesapeake Bay could provide actual proof and evidence of the needs, impact and results of their efforts all around Sandy Pointe.  Workshops to further educate attendees and even a giant balloon  flying high in the sky reading weather patterns were just a few of the opportunities available to learn more about the Chesapeake Bay waters and why we all need to ensure it is well taken care of.  Baygrass makes its mission a living, breathing part of the weekend that locals take notice of and appreciate wholeheartedly.  Making the festival green by having a zero plastic motto as well as volunteers standing ready to help sort compostables, trash and recycling paid some good karma forward in the eyes of Mother Nature. 

DCMR had the opportunity to sit down and chat with Kyle Hollingsworth, who himself is home-grown and familiar with all the life that depends on the water source, being from Maryland.

DCMR: “So you’re from the area, what was your favorite venue to go to growing up?”

KH: “Well, my first band Black Friday, played at the 8 x 10, many years ago, this is in the 80s, when Giles was actually the owner.  We would play there because we would have a draw,and he'd pay us, but we were not legally old enough to be in the club.  I was the oldest at eighteen and the other guys, some of the other guys were only sixteen.  So we would play and then immediately have to leave.  In DC, we played 9:30 Club and then we also played The Bayou.”

Feel Good – Beach Yoga & Mental Health Awareness

You have to take advantage of being in such a beautiful spot so not only did we learn how to keep the Chesapeake healthy for years to come, we also made sure that we do as well.  Yoga sessions on the beach with toes in the sand while bands played not even fifty feet away is an activity that doesn’t come along every day.  

Organizers of the event are also big supporters of Mental Health Awareness and held a workshop focusing on how it’s sometimes “ok to not be ok” lending understanding and support on how to get through some of the struggles. Both Saturday and Sunday also had several reserved times for Sober Gatherings to further incorporate and provide for the attendees who chose to take that route.

Make it Fun.  Music and People.

There wasn’t a single person that I saw or spoke to the entire weekend that wasn’t having the kind of time that we all wish for more of.  The lineup this year brought in some artists that expanded past just Bluegrass like LaMP, but also had the staple festival regulars playing all over the musical map.

Larry Keel’s Electric Larry Land and the Grateful Ball featuring the Travelin McCourys got downright funky and Kyle Hollingsworth really turned it up with his mid-afternoon set on Sunday.  Paying homage to a wide variety of artists from all over the musical map, bands went left, right and center with some of the covers they brought out for the weekend.  

Hollingsworth just released a new album and described it as a mash up of different sounds throughout.

DCMR: “So the new album is out and it’s called All We Are.  So what all are we – is it sugar and spice and everything nice?  Or more like Jameson on ice?”

KH: “So, it's the title track of my album, and so I was looking for the way to represent all the songs on the album. The first song is a little bit Death Cab For Cutie, a little bit indie rock. I was a little nervous to put that one first, but then everybody at the record company really liked it, liked that style.  Then I do like a funky number and then I'll do a Paul Simon type of thing, so it’s all we are - it’s a concept of all the musical influences in my life.”

Not only are his musical influences a long, diverse list but so are his musical instrument playing capabilities.  

DCMR: So a lot of instruments that you play - accordion, keys, ukulele – the list goes on. So, what is one that you don't know how to play yet that you want to still learn?

KH: Oh wow, good question. I was thinking about this just the other day because I just started playing ukulele, and that's really fun to write on. Something that I would love to play…. well, I definitely want to play accordion better, but maybe something like a Dobro or something that has, like, the way you can be emotional and bend notes that the piano players don’t really have a way to do that too easily.

As always, old friends reconnected and caught up, and new friends were made just the same.  That goes for off-stage in the crowd, but on-stage as well, where ticket holders were once again blessed with Holly Bowling joining Kyle Hollingsworth and making even more music magic during their Saturday night set.  Both Bowling and artist-at-large Kyle Tuttle shared stages a-plenty throughout the weekend, dazzling us all over and over again.  

Baygrass has improved their lineup, experience and environmental awareness as well as impact year after year and provided a late-Summer/early-Fall event that we cannot wait to continue being a part of and see what they’ll give us in 2026!

In Front Royal, Labor Day has become synonymous with the Shenandoah's award-winning and beloved festival, Appaloosa. What began a decade ago as a dream project of the band Scythian has grown into a gathering that feels like a homecoming. Families, friends, and newcomers alike filled Virginia's Skyline Ranch Resort, carrying on a tradition that blends Celtic and Appalachian roots with that Huck Sawyer-esque small-town community spirit.

At Appaloosa, “Music Among Friends” isn’t just a motto; it’s a way of life. Over ten years, the festival has become a place where families gather, friendships deepen, and strangers quickly turn into kin. In the Shenandoah Valley, the sound of fiddles and banjos carries more than music; it carries the spirit of community, woven together through family and friends that become family.

As you can imagine, the setting played no small role. Mountains framed the horizon, late-summer light stretched over the fields, and a relaxed rhythm carried through the weekend. Children raced barefoot in the grass, grandparents tapped in folding chairs, and parents balanced lemonade cups and cameras while drifting between stages. Even after sunset, the atmosphere remained warm and safe, with lights glowing gently over the grounds and music carrying into the night without losing its sense of welcome.

Music provided the backbone of the weekend, of course. Scythian’s Celtic-bluegrass fusion anchored the festival with trademark energy; each set was a flurry of special guests, jump-kicks, spins, and headbangs. Saturday,'s sunset with Scythian brought the largest crowd of the weekend due to the steady crescendo of music as the day progressed. To much of the crowd's surprise and delight, original band member and percussionist Alex Kuldell appeared behind the drum kit at the downbeat. 

Fellow Appalachian roots festival founders, The Steel Wheels delivered carefully crafted Americana that beckoned Saturday's last few stragglers like a kid at the door asking Ma if you can come out to play. By duskfall, every newborn, nana, and neighbor in between was dancing the polka. Main Stage didn't have a chance to cool down before Low Water Bridge Band stormed on with spirit wilder than a Texas twister. JigJam and Smoke & The Poet electrified the stages both nights with groove and fire, igniting fiery crowds of all ages. The Screaming Orphans lifted hearts and hands with radiant harmonies and unstoppable energy. Catfish In The Sky brought 2 days of standout performances. The young Berklee students' youthful spirit and a punchy sound balanced with respect for tradition reminded us that our world is both rich with legacy and fresh with promise.

Beyond the main stage, workshops offered rare intimacy. JigJam’s “Mystery Workshop” blurred performance and songwriting sessions into one, inviting listeners into the creative process. Ethan Dean of Scythian turned spoons into instruments of delight, drawing laughter as children and adults clattered along, attempting rhythms on spoons. The popular workshop subsequently cleared the merch tent of every last Heritage musical spoon. The Screaming Orphans opened up about the complexities of performing as sisters, while Catfish In The Sky invited the audience into conversation as much as music. These sessions gave festival-goers a chance to take part rather than simply observe, adding depth to the weekend.

Sunday morning brought a quieter note with Mass, open to all. Beneath a large tent, sacred music and liturgy created a pause in the weekend’s rhythm, reinforcing Appaloosa’s unique character: a festival where faith, family, and music coexist naturally. Nothing forced, but a shining light for all who wished to partake.

By the end of the festival, a unanimous yet unspoken consensus had been reached: the ambient familiarity of homecoming overwhelmingly defined the weekend. Low Water Bridge Band’s frontman Logan Moore summed up the shared sentiment, “I really enjoy playing Appaloosa; our band grew up here, and has been traveling a lot over the past couple of years. We play more shows out of town than we do in our area, so being able to come back to Appaloosa, which is kind of like our home base, is a real treat. The people are great... It's beautiful here. Can't get any better.”

Ten years in, Appaloosa has found its balance. Neither slick nor overproduced, but organized and polished enough to draw major acts; Appaloosa is a well oiled machine, bringing top-tier entertainment and a homegrown comfort that can only be found in the foothills of Appalachia. Its charm lies in that middle ground: a gathering rooted in music, built on community, and carried forward by the people who return each year to make the Shenandoah Valley sing.

Looking ahead, the festival is carrying a vision for its future. Organizers are working toward raising funds to install permanent power lines at Skyline Ranch Resort. Traditionally, Appaloosa has relied on rented generators to keep the music flowing and the lights glowing, but the cost has been astronomical. A more sustainable infrastructure would not only reduce costs but ensure the festival continues to thrive for years to come. Keep your eyes peeled on Scythian's website and socials for opportunities to donate toward the cause.

Scythian shows no signs of slowing either. Following Appaloosa, the group is set to embark on a tour across Ireland in November 2025, bringing their brand of Celtic roots music back to its ancestral soil. Just a few months later, fans can sail away with them on the Scythian Cruise in January 2026, an intimate voyage blending music, travel, and community at sea.

For those eager to support the festival’s growth or to follow Scythian beyond the Shenandoah, details and tickets can be found at appaloosafestival.com and scythianmusic.com.

To learn more about Appaloosa, please see the following web resources:

• Webpage
• Facebook
• Instagram
• YouTube
• Spotify
• TikTok
• Frequently Asked Questions

In the heart of Check, Virginia, where the mountains fold into the sky and the air hums with midsummer promise, FloydFest Aurora stretched across five full days and 210 mystical acres.

Held July 23–27, 2025 at FloydFest's own FestivalPark, This year's festival was one of the best FloydFests ever, and it's easy to see why. Known for its' one of a kind music, magic, and mountain air FloydFest 25 brought a reimagined layout, over 100 artists across seven stages, and as anticipated, record attendance. he festival also swept year-end honors, winning Best Music Festival from Blue Ridge Outdoors and Best Festival 2025 from Virginia Living readers.

This year’s theme, Aurora, felt fitting. If 2024’s Horizon looked ahead, Aurora was the arrival — radiant, spectral, and alive. The mountains caught every shifting color, and so did the people. One moment, kids raced through the Children’s Universe with painted cheeks and parade banners; the next, the valley blazed gold as the sun slipped behind the ridge, aerial performers spinning gracefully in the backlight.

FestivalPark’s sprawling ridge lines became a living canvas of joy and love; a utopian-like community brought together by one common obsession: love of incredible music.

Each path led to something new — a soaring main stage moment, a shaded hammock grove, or an artisan tent filled with the scent of fresh leather and kettle corn. By day, it was a technicolor sprawl of tie-dye and laughter; by night, the hills glowed from within, as if they'd been brought to life by its' temporary inhabitants.

The upgraded site design with new walkways, elevated viewing decks, and intimate stage placement balanced expansive views with a close-knit atmosphere. Artisan markets, campfire chill zones, and pine-framed clearings turned every stroll into an act of discovery. Sustainability, family-first design, and musical breadth worked in harmony to create something rare: a festival that felt both grand in scale and deeply personal.

Notable improvements and expansions included new camping sites, paths, and stadium mountain side seating that drew large crowds to the Oasis stage which thrived in its' new location. Festival goers were greeted with increased accessibility as they enjoyed newly poured concrete sidewalks, platforms, and non-stop tram routes to nearly all areas. It was apparent that ADA accommodations were of the utmost importance to FloydFest teams, as they worked tirelessly to ensure every feature was accessible to all. ADA and VIP camping as well as the sought after Glamping sites ensured there were less primitive festival experiences for those in need of additional space and ease. Amenities such as the "Barn Bar," sweeping sun shades, and umbrella adorned concrete patio at the Floyd Country Store Stage were added, contributing to its' packed stadium style seating at every set.

Daytime brought a rhythm of its own: yoga on the mountaintop, mini-hikes along tree-lined paths, all day rock climbing,  and crafting workshops such as metal stamping, flower crown making, and screen printing woven seamlessly into the experience. The Children’s Universe remained a thoughtful oasis of shaded play areas, creative stations, a mini-stage, and the beloved Peace Parade with stilt walkers and community-crafted banners.

The 2025 lineup offered a curated cross-section of genres, each set adding a chapter to the festival’s larger story. Every genre had its place: sacred steel gospel, Moroccan brass, hard-grit twin-guitar Americana, and psychedelic jam-band improvisation. The result was a lineup that felt as expansive as the view from the ridgeline.

Rock royalty The Black Crowes swaggered into the valley, Gov’t Mule powered through swampy jams, and Mt. Joy delivered golden-hour ease that felt like the soundtrack to a coming of age Indie Rom-Com. JJ Grey & Mofro brought bluesy sunshine, while The Wood Brothers, The Last Revel, Futurebirds, and The Travelin’ McCourys anchored the roots and Americana core with timeless harmonies and rock solid bass lines.

Global grooves from Femi Kuti & The Positive Force, Cimafunk, and The Original Wailers spilled across the hills — Cimafunk even inviting fans on stage for a full-on twerk party that turned Oasis Stage into a Havana street corner. Rising acts like Ranford Almond, Chaparelle, Isaac Hadden, and Hans Williams each proved that the mountains can raise as much talent as they inspire.

The Brothers Comatose brought rowdy string-band joy, Jeremie Albino offered sun-aged folk rock with a grin, and Hans Williams, an infinitely talented heartthrob on the brink of stardom, wove indie-folk intimacy into soaring, anthemic swells. DaShawn Hickman’s sacred steel guitar lifted the crowd straight into gospel ecstasy, Buffalo Nichols’ blues unspooled like a midnight confession, and Big Richard’s razor-sharp harmonies and serpentine fiddle licks pierced the lawn with precision and fire. The Tan and Sober Gentlemen delivered a sweat-soaked rush of Celtic punk-grass that defied probability by seamlessly fusing haunting balladry with raw, fist-pumping ferocity, Toubab Krewe blended West African traditions with jam-band improvisation, and Maggie Rose sang as if moonlight itself had found a voice.

The Floyd Country Store stage delivered its own kind of magic — intimate, unhurried, and steeped in storytelling. Dom Flemons spun American history into song, making every verse feel like a rediscovered artifact. Folk veteran Chris Smither offered masterfully understated guitar work and lyrics that landed like quiet truths. Sets from Buffalo Nichols, DaShawn Hickman, and Nat Myers drew listeners in close, each blending gritty musicianship and cutting narratives into deeply personal monologues set to intricate finger pickings and steel slides long enough to lull you into a dreamlike afternoon trance.

Across the Oasis, Theo Lawrence entranced with a velvet croon straight out of the 50s, pulling the crowd into a time capsule of swoon and sway. Under the canopy, Palm Palm unleashed a high-voltage set that channeled the swagger of Neal Francis and the theatricality of Elton John, while Holy Roller stomped and growled through a gritty, boot-kicking performance that turned Higher Ground into a rowdy barroom at last call.

Late nights were fever-dreams unfolding under a canopy of fireflies and neon laser beams pulsing in time. Standout performances from Maggie Rose, LaMP, Bella’s Bartok, Free Label, Caitlin Krisko & The Broadcast, Geese, and The California Honeydrops ignited an all night fire in festival-goers. The energy never dipped; each act brought an unrelenting spark that kept the crowd moving deep into the small hours. Big Something, who stretched time with kaleidoscopic jam-rock voyages, turned Oasis Stage into a psychedelic space party. The pinnacle came with the Buffalo Mountain Jam, a sprawling, joyous collision of talent featuring sit-ins from The Wood Brothers, The Brothers Comatose, Isaac Hadden, Maggie Rose, and many more. It was the kind of jam where genres dissolved, solos traded hands like secret treasures, and the stage became a family reunion.

The Depot, FloydFest's social hub, bustled with near 24 hour activity including, a supply shop, bar, coffee shop, top notch eats, and a fire pit that drew late-night bluegrass jams. Led by an ever-changing rotation of festival artists, these sessions were open to all: a place to swap songs, trade licks, and learn from the very players who had lit up the stages, these jams blurred the lines between performer and fan. In those small hours, with banjos ringing, fiddles laughing, and strangers becoming bandmates, the magic felt infinite — a heartbeat shared by the entire mountain.

If the music was the heartbeat, community was the breath. Festival-goers drifted between hammock lounging, artisan markets, and shaded workshops. The vendor village buzzed with art, clothing, jewelry, and food vendors serving everything from Carolina BBQ to vegan falafel.

When darkness fell, FestivalPark transformed. Stages glowed like lanterns, drum circles pulsed in hidden hollows, and laughter carried across the ridges. A community suspended in starlight, it was a world of its' own; a place where stress and worry dissipated from minds, replaced with a fresh breath of peace.

By the final chord of Sunday’s closing set, the crowd was still swaying, not quite ready to let go. FloydFest 25 wasn’t just a weekend escape; it was a homecoming in the clouds.

In 2025, FloydFest didn’t just live up to its 25-year legacy. It proved that magic can be planned — but it truly comes alive when music, mountains, and community breathe together.

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If you want to revisit the Music, Mountains, and Magic of FloydFest - listen here - and be transported to FloydFest's forever home in beautiful Floyd County, Virginia.

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• Frequently Asked Questions

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

I shall, and I will—because you, sweet DelFest, are the warmth that stays long after the sun sets, the golden light that lingers in memory, the home that sings when the rest of the world goes quiet.

In late May, beneath the familiar curve of the mountains and beside the slow, steady breath of the Potomac, DelFest 2025 unfolded like a love letter written in song. The days were sun-soaked and laughter-filled, and the nights—oh, the nights—sparkled like fireflies in a jar left open.

The opening evening wrapped us gently in music and memory. The Del McCoury Band, ever timeless and humble, stepped onto the stage in their classic informal dress—no frills, just feeling. Del, with his silver hair catching the light and that unmistakable smile, led the way through songs that felt like family heirlooms. The harmonies wrapped around us like an old quilt, familiar and beloved.

Right after, Sister Sadie took the torch and raised it higher. Their harmonies were fierce and flawless, grounded in strength and lifted by joy. They played like women on a mission, like every note was a declaration. The energy was electric—bright and steady, like stars holding the night sky in place.

The Wood Brothers brought the evening to a close with their soul-deep, honey-warm sound. Every song felt like it was written on the inside of your heart, and their performance left the night quiet and glowing.

But when the main stage dimmed, the music did not sleep.

DelFest’s late-night magic stirred to life, and the truly wild-hearted followed the sound down winding paths of music and moonlight. The Kitchen Dwellers lit up the late-night tent with their high-altitude, jam-soaked bluegrass—cosmic, quicksilver picking that sent dancers spinning like dust devils beneath the stars. Railroad Earth brought their deep-grooved storytelling to the wee hours, their rhythms rolling through the trees like wind through leaves. And The California Honeydrops transformed one whole night into a late-night soul revival—horns wailing, drums thumping, and strangers dancing with arms flung wide, as if joy were something they had to give away before dawn.

Mornings arrived gently, coaxing the sleepy and sunburned from their tents. But DelFest doesn’t just play hard—it restores. Restorative yoga sessions on the grass welcomed the day with deep breaths and stretched limbs, bluegrass still humming softly in the background. It felt like the mountains themselves were exhaling with us.

And then—the Bloody Mary Bluegrass Brunches. Oh, the brunches. A perfect union of fiddle tunes and tomato tang, where the pickers played lighthearted sets, laughter mingled with clinking glasses, and stories from the night before were retold with wide eyes and happy hearts. There was a kind of morning magic here, the music as comforting as biscuits and as bright as the mimosas.

As the weekend unfolded, so did a thousand small moments—Steve Poltz tugging heartstrings and making us laugh until we cried, Sierra Ferrell spinning velvet and mystery, Larkin Poe—fresh off their Grammy win—blazing through sets with fire and fury, and Leftover Salmon with Vince Herman raising the roof on whatever tent, stage, or spirit stood before them.

And in the center of it all, Wyatt Ellis—sixteen, focused, and completely extraordinary—played the mandolin like it was an extension of his heartbeat. In his debut DelFest set, time stood still. The crowd, the sky, the very hills around us listened. And we knew we were watching something we’d tell our grandchildren about one day.