Lindsay Rittenhouse, co-founder of Track Marks
Eric Nelson, co-founder of Track Marks

Secluded in the middle of the woods in Rothbury, Mich., with just the glow of the forest, sounds of dark bass and our deepest thoughts, we descended on a journey.

From the Jawas that walked in synchronized figure eights to the fairy who radiated glee to the sole travelers to Karl’s dedicated search team, we were all part of the experience. It was an electric forest—the Electric Forest.

Our first encounter with the magic was with two giant botanical dogs that sprouted out of the ground just outside the entrance, guarding what was inside. We passed through them and under the Medieval, wooden terrace to the festival grounds.

Stumbling first to the Tripolee stage, which seemed to take a page from Belgium’s Tomorrowland, we were met with Greek stone statues protecting the artists. Later on here we saw acts like DeadMau’s alter ego Test Pilot perform his debut set. Accompanied by a heat lightening storm, that was one hell of a first impression.

There was another stage, the Observatory. Unlike anything else, it was a hidden treasure that held North Carolinian Bluesy folk band Hiss Golden Messenger, industrial Brooklyn three-piece punks Dub Trio, progressive-jammers-late-night enhancers Aqueous and the soothingly wise Dixon’s Violin who sent the festival off with a much-needed mediation to cap off a fast-paced weekend.

The Observatory was tucked away in the Sherwood Forest, where lay the huts of smoke and passion, the mural painter, the notebooks filled of tiny secrets and the discarding of all the social norms that has held us back from living.

The artwork throughout Sherwood was subtle at times but always perfectly placed.

Sounds of an organ emanating from a piano was planted in the middle of a ring of tall trees, lit up by the dancing disco ball overhead and the festival goers that took turns entertaining us. We traversed through a maze that weaved through a treehouse full of inspirational notes that we plucked from a mailbox, embedded in our hearts and took home (as Dixon’s Violin would later advise). A trail of hanging translucent umbrellas that seemed to be made of stained glass kept us shaded and served as a gateway to the Ranch Arena. A owl with glowing red eyes both warned and welcomed us through the main entrance from Tripolee. A towering, gentle giant elephant stood a few yards in, solidifying the bond between man and beast. Statues of knights guarded invisible gates, admitting only the open-minded and tolerant hearts ready to let go and allow the journey to take them where it may.

At night, tinted smoke would drift from the inside of what looked like small huts carved out of red spruce trees, where people went to wind down, have heart-to-hearts or just take a 10-second timeout. The smell of wood chips was everywhere, seeping from the bits of trees that have naturally fell throughout the centuries to form cushions for our feet now. It was a humbling feeling to be so united with nature. In this place, it felt like we were no longer draining the Earth’s resources. We were the beings that belonged on Earth, the ones she birthed from her core.

Getting back to the music …

On the other side of the forest stood the Sherwood Court where we saw Chromeo dominate a late-night spot, kicked off the party in the morning with Muzzy Bear, popped champagne with Cherub and danced alongside Rezz as she played to her biggest audience probably to date.

Situated on the outermost skirt of the festival was Jubilee, a stage that sat under an open circus tent, providing slight relief from the blistering sun that intensified the weekend’s record-breaking heatwave. Here we saw acts including the very talented rising jam sensation Big Something, the energetic funky big band Turkuaz, and even caught a glimpse of Karl Denson’s Tiny Universe. Just across the field from Jubilee was the real circus tent, where you could bop along to some cool jazz, get a massage or just escape from the sun.

Not far off was where Ranch Arena hosted the most fantastic spectacles of the entire weekend and possibly some of even the entire festival season.

Daytime folk gem Fruition unfortunately drew a sparse crowd but let us tell you, if you weren’t watching their intimate set, you missed out. Our biggest criticism wasn’t the fault of the Electric Forest festival itself or the people who created it, but the few attendees who were so easy to discard virtuoso musicians for someone pushing play on a Macbook.

But, hey, speaking of someone who knows his way around a keyboard, Zhu did kill it on Sunday, welcoming attendees back to the Ranch Arena the final night after a hail storm put the festival on temporary hold. We will say the storm allowed us to pre-game Sunday night in the campgrounds and make great friends who crammed into cars with us and who we would have missed seeing the festival out with.

One of the festival highlights was seeing GRiZ live at the Ranch Arena. Delivering not just a DJ set, GRiZ brought on stage some of the weekend’s greatest musicians, together forming a 12-piece band that featured guitar, horns and a female powerhouse singer.

The Ranch Arena also gifted us with The String Cheese Incident, which incorporated all elements of the festival. They showed up the Kings of Jam, while still leaning on some EDM influence, uniting two seemingly unfitting genres perfectly; just as Electric Forest does. Over the top in production like the Flaming Lips, String Cheese featured giant inflatable rain clouds with silver streamers that poured over the crowd as they covered “I Can See Clearly Now.” The heavens felt like they were opening up.

Through their songs, String Cheese took us on a trip, always switching up the mood. One minute we’re spiraling through a tunnel into a dark abyss and the next the light was coming through and beckoning us toward peace and love, capped off with glitter and fireworks. Oh did I mention the girls on risers twirling torches of fire? That was a thing, too. Besides “I Can See Clearly Now,” Cheese also covered Led Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” and the Doors’ Rhodes-heavy “Riders on the Storm.” Say cheese, grateful audience.

Bassnectar, playing his 10th anniversary set between Electric Forest and The Rothbury Music Festival (what the event used to go by), closed out the weekend perfectly.

Houston, come in, Houston; we found that spaceship again.

Blasting through hits and surprising us with some insane remixes including the Fugees’ “Ready or Not” and Cardi B’s “Bodak Yellow,” we rocketed off once again. It seemed that the forest’s jubilant spirits overtook Mr. Nectar, too. We were the butterflies and we were drinking his sweet bass nectar. The veteran DJ’s mind-blowing visuals, lasers that pierced the fog and gallons upon gallons of glitter rounded out the last headlining set of this weird, wacky and wonderful weekend.

It’s true, we lost our minds to find our souls here.

Only in the backcountry of the Midwest can you feel so alone, connected, powerful and obsolete all at the same time. For one weekend, with Lake Michigan too far off to shield us from the at times stifling humidity, we called a 30-foot patch of grass our home, and sweated it out with what could only be some of the most beautiful souls. The braided German hippie who welcomed us into her space with a genuine smile. Her reserved but adoring mate. Rezz’s dear friend, the over-exaggerating Basshead we called Pinocchio. The group of glittery nymphs who warned us to never stray too far from the chameleon. The crystal queen who gave us tie-dye bandanas. The dog in the woods. We’re still wondering what that Husky’s favorite set was.

We will keep a piece of each and every one of them with us. You can take the hippies out of Electric Forest but you can’t take the forest out of us.