First published in  Lonely Goat Print Magazine Volume II - #8

Stompin' Off   1999
by Karen Pepe-Delage (September, 1999)

I just got back from what I hoped would be the biggest bluegrass gathering since MerleFest. But, instead, Stompin' 99 turned out to be a nice weekend in the mountains with a little bit of music thrown in. Do I sound disappointed? I guess I am, but only somewhat. I like to find the silver lining in a big black cloud and there was one to be found in this situation, so I'm not really "stompin' mad."

The festival started off well, with lots of friends showing up for some good pickin'. Some of the Newcastle Boys were there and David Via & Corn Tornado and plenty of other musicians whose talents were phenomenal. The jamming went on well into the night on Thursday to kinda warm us up for Friday's lineup. Friday started off well enough with several local Capon Bridge/ Winchester bands to start the ball rolling. Around evening time John Cowan Band took the stage to really get the party started. John sang his heart out and joked with the audience putting everyone in a festival and dancing mood. He did some tunes from his new album along with some old favorites from his New Grass Revival days. He rocked the place one minute and practically moved us to tears the next when he sang about the river he and his friend (who recently passed away) used to fish on. It was an excellent set. Then came a deluge which kept me stranded back at camp missing the great Ralph Stanley. Due to the rain, the stage was turned around into a more intimate gathering for Peter Rowan's set sans Tony Rice. Apparently, Tony had an accident a few years back which injured his left hand. This old injury required surgery which I hope will make him good as new. Peter Rowan put on an up close, just-the-mike-and-the-guitar set, with lots of stories and a sing along. Peter Rowan Unplugged. Everyone had a good time although the set seemed a bit short. Then it was on to find more pickin'. This was more difficult since it rained all night but we were undaunted and tracked down several pickers under tarps and in cabins and jammed into the wee hours.

Saturday the weather cleared and it was time for music again. I spent most of the day soaking in the beauty of the mountains, swimming in the lake, meeting new people, and drying out my camping stuff. By evening I was ready for one of my favorites, Acoustic Syndicate. These guys really raged. The crowd, most of them anyway, were moving and shakin' as they covered Baba O'Reilly and a Neil Young favorite, Powderfinger.
Next, Doc Watson took the stage for a beautiful interlude of great tunes, tearing it up on guitar and singing to us in his sweet grandfatherly way. Nashville Bluegrass Band closed out the evening & I decided to get a good night's rest and get ready for the next day.

Sunday promised to be the best day of all, with appearances scheduled for IIIrd Time Out, Seldom Scene, Donna the Buffalo, Lonesome Highway, and David Grisman Quintet. It was time to get your boogie shoes on, I thought. Well, it turned out quite differently. I spent the early part of the day getting feedback from the vendors who weren't too happy with the low attendance at the festival. Most said they barely broke even, some even lost money. Things weren't looking good. Rumors started to circulate that Grisman wasn't going to show due to lack of funds. Oh no! But we still had a good day of music ahead didn't we? About two o'clock rumors were, "Yes, Grisman was playing, no worries." By three o'clock things went terribly wrong. Police were brought in to announce that the rest of the day had been cancelled due to the lack of funds. What a bummer! Needless to say, there were a lot of angry people around. Some, I heard, had just come in and paid their money only to get nothing. This was a down note to end the weekend. The lesson to be learned here is beware of first year festivals that promise a lot of big names. This is almost impossible to accomplish since the festival isn't well known and big names cost big bucks. Therefore, if turnout is low, so are funds and somebody loses. This time it was the festival-goers and vendors.

I'd like to end on a positive note. The pickin' I witnessed was well worth the price of admission and I met a lot of kind people which is always worth more than anything. So it was hard to come away with bad feelings from my get away in the hills of "West Virginy."