A heartfelt memoir from Tré Taylor, reporting live from the Strawberry Music Festival at the beautiful Nevada County Fairgrounds in Grass Valley, CA. This travel and adventure blog explores the evolution of the legendary Leopard Lounge Camp, post-Covid community healing, music festival culture, camping life, hospitality, jazz and bluegrass jam sessions, neurodiversity, creativity, and the importance of belonging.
Featuring stories of musicians, volunteers, folk traditions, roots music, campfire jams, and the return of connection through live music and shared experiences beneath the pine trees of Northern California. Discover more stories, art, music, recipes, travel adventures, and memoirs from the road at Tré Taylor Transformations and learn more about the festival at Strawberry Music Festival.

🍓

Pre-Festival Notes from the Nevada County Fairgrounds — Grass Valley, California

Travel & Adventure • Written by Tré Taylor and Bleep the Tattoo • May 2026

There are some places that are not just festivals.

They are little temporary villages built out of pine trees, guitar strings, coffee, folding tables, old friendships, borrowed extension cords, disco lights, and the sound of someone singing harmony under the stars.

That is what Strawberry Music Festival feels like to me.

For generations, people have comeout to camp, play music, reconnect, rough it a little — but not too much, because thank God for flushing toilets and hot showers — and remember what community feels like when it is done right.

And right now, I am here early at the Nevada County Fairgrounds, drinking strong French roast coffee, resting my back, listening to the wind move through the trees, and watching our little Leopard Lounge / Sunflower Camp village come together one table, rug, chair, and sparkle light at a time.

🍓🎻✨

🐆 What the Leopard Lounge Was Really About

The Leopard Lounge was never just a bar.

It was a watering hole.

A welcome mat.

A soft place to land.

A little leopard-print living room in the woods where musicians, workers, wanderers, wild ones, shy ones, jazz players, folk singers, ukulele strummers, guitar pickers, upright bass legends, and beautiful oddballs could sit down and feel like they belonged.

We had sofas. Rugs. Coffee tables. Cocktails. Snacks. String lights. Laughter. Guitars. Saxophone. Jazz standards. Folk songs. Bluegrass jams. Sometimes a little chaos, yes — but mostly the good kind.

The whole point was hospitality.

Especially for the people who work so hard to make Strawberry happen.

The volunteers. The production crew. The staff. The vendors. The musicians. The people behind the scenes who carry the whole beautiful machine on their backs.

We wanted them to have somewhere to come after the long day was done.

Somewhere to sit.

Somewhere to laugh.

Somewhere to be appreciated.

🎸 The Camp Where Everybody Could Play

One of my favorite things about our camp is that it became a place where people could actually learn.

Not every jam circle is welcoming.

Let’s be honest.

Some old-school music circles can feel like you need a secret password, three references, and a beard approved by committee.

But at the Leopard Lounge, we wanted people to feel brave.

Bring your guitar.

Bring your ukulele.

Bring your fiddle.

Bring your clarinet.

Bring your upright bass.

Bring your voice.

Bring your almost-ready solo.

Bring the song you are scared to play in front of people.

That is how musicians grow.

And because I am a jazz singer, the jazz players would find us too. That always felt like the biggest compliment in the world. Folk and bluegrass are beautiful, but jazz? Jazz is a conversation with a trapdoor. You have to listen. You have to trust. You have to be willing to fall and make it sound intentional.

That is the kind of magic I love.

🎷🎻🎸🪕✨

🌲 Then Covid Changed the Rhythm

When Strawberry came back after the Covid years, something had changed.

People were not just ready to party.

They were thirsty for connection.

Deeply thirsty.

We had all been isolated. Scared. Masked. Distanced. Separated from music, touch, laughter, family, and each other.

So when people finally came back to camp, it was like the emotional dam broke.

Our little Leopard Lounge became packed.

Beautifully packed.

Overwhelmingly packed.

Sometimes too packed.

People needed belonging so badly, and we were one of the places where they could feel it.

But hosting that much need takes a toll.

Especially when you are generous by nature.

🍹 The New Leopard Lounge

This year, things are different.

A little smaller.

A little softer.

A little more intentional.

We are not trying to be everything to everyone anymore.

We are learning capacity.

We are learning sustainability.

We are learning that many hands really do make lighter work.

Merging energy with Sunflower Camp feels like part of the next chapter. Good people. Strong people. Talented people.

🌞 The Hopeful Part

I still believe in the Strawberry Music Festival.

I believe in the heart of this festival.

I believe in the people who keep showing up year after year with guitars, stories, coffee cups, harmonies, tired backs, and open hearts. I believe in the next generation finding their way into these circles beneath the trees. I believe traditions can evolve without losing their soul.

After all these beautiful years at Strawberry, it may be time for the Leopard Lounge Adventures to wander toward new roads, new festivals, and new musical communities waiting to be discovered.

And what a beautiful run this has been.

I came here this year not as the workhorse, but as the witness.

The writer.

The singer.

The woman resting beneath the pine trees with coffee in hand, listening to the harmonies drifting through camp and realizing that maybe the new normal is not less beautiful.

Maybe it is simply more honest.

So if this chapter is slowly evolving into something new, I feel grateful more than sad.

Because Strawberry helped shape us.

And wherever the Leopard Lounge wanders next, it will carry a little bit of the Strawberry Way with it:

Creative courage.
Hospitality.
Music beneath the stars.
And learning to play well with others.

🍓 Come Find Us

If you are coming to Spring Strawberry Music Festival 2026, come say hello.

We are near Gate Four — first turn after the porta potties on the right.

You cannot miss us.

Look for leopard print, disco lights in the trees, cozy seating, string instruments, good people, and the general feeling that somebody’s auntie accidentally opened a jazz lounge in the forest.

Bring kindness.

Bring music.

Bring a joke.

Bring a song.

Bring a bottle if you are feeling generous.

Most of all, bring your beautiful self with an attitude of gratitude.

With love, music, food, art, and fun,

Scoop Taylor & Bleep the Tattoo
Reporting from Strawberry Music Festival
Nevada County Fairgrounds, Grass Valley, California
May 2026

🎶🍓 Memoirs From the Road: Strawberry, the Leopard Lounge & the Great Return to Belonging

🍓

Pre-Festival Notes from the Nevada County Fairgrounds — Grass Valley, California

There are some places that are not just festivals.

They are little temporary villages built out of pine trees, guitar strings, coffee, folding tables, old friendships, borrowed extension cords, disco lights, and the sound of someone singing harmony under the stars.

That is what Strawberry Music Festival feels like to me.

For generations, people have comeout to camp, play music, reconnect, rough it a little — but not too much, because thank God for flushing toilets and hot showers — and remember what community feels like when it is done right.

And right now, I am here early at the Nevada County Fairgrounds, drinking strong French roast coffee, resting my back, listening to the wind move through the trees, and watching our little Leopard Lounge / Sunflower Camp village come together one table, rug, chair, and sparkle light at a time.

🍓🎻✨

🐆 What the Leopard Lounge Was Really About

The Leopard Lounge was never just a bar.

It was a watering hole.

A welcome mat.

A soft place to land.

A little leopard-print living room in the woods where musicians, workers, wanderers, wild ones, shy ones, jazz players, folk singers, ukulele strummers, guitar pickers, upright bass legends, and beautiful oddballs could sit down and feel like they belonged.

We had sofas. Rugs. Coffee tables. Cocktails. Snacks. String lights. Laughter. Guitars. Saxophone. Jazz standards. Folk songs. Bluegrass jams. Sometimes a little chaos, yes — but mostly the good kind.

The whole point was hospitality.

Especially for the people who work so hard to make Strawberry happen.

The volunteers. The production crew. The staff. The vendors. The musicians. The people behind the scenes who carry the whole beautiful machine on their backs.

We wanted them to have somewhere to come after the long day was done.

Somewhere to sit.

Somewhere to laugh.

Somewhere to be appreciated.

🎸 The Camp Where Everybody Could Play

One of my favorite things about our camp is that it became a place where people could actually learn.

Not every jam circle is welcoming.

Let’s be honest.

Some old-school music circles can feel like you need a secret password, three references, and a beard approved by committee.

But at the Leopard Lounge, we wanted people to feel brave.

Bring your guitar.

Bring your ukulele.

Bring your fiddle.

Bring your clarinet.

Bring your upright bass.

Bring your voice.

Bring your almost-ready solo.

Bring the song you are scared to play in front of people.

That is how musicians grow.

That is the kind of magic I love.

🎷🎻🎸🪕✨

🌲 Then Covid Changed the Rhythm

When Strawberry came back after the Covid years, something had changed.

People were not just ready to party.

They were thirsty for connection.

Deeply thirsty.

We had all been isolated. Scared. Masked. Distanced. Separated from music, touch, laughter, family, and each other.

So when people finally came back to camp, it was like the emotional dam broke.

Our little Leopard Lounge became packed.

Beautifully packed.

Overwhelmingly packed.

Sometimes too packed.

People needed belonging so badly, and we were one of the places where they could feel it.

But hosting that much need takes a toll.

Especially when you are generous by nature.

🍹 The New Leopard Lounge

This year, things are different.

A little smaller.

A little softer.

A little more intentional.

We are not trying to be everything to everyone anymore.

We are learning capacity.

We are learning sustainability.

We are learning that many hands really do make lighter work.

Merging energy with Sunflower Camp feels like part of the next chapter. Good people. Strong people. Talented people.

🌞 The Hopeful Part

I still believe in the Strawberry Music Festival.

I believe in the heart of this festival.

I believe in the people who keep showing up year after year with guitars, stories, coffee cups, harmonies, tired backs, and open hearts. I believe in the next generation finding their way into these circles beneath the trees. I believe traditions can evolve without losing their soul.

After all these beautiful years at Strawberry, it may be time for the Leopard Lounge Adventures to wander toward new roads, new festivals, and new musical communities waiting to be discovered.

And what a beautiful run this has been.

I came here this year not as the workhorse, but as the witness.

The writer.

The singer.

The woman resting beneath the pine trees with coffee in hand, listening to the harmonies drifting through camp and realizing that maybe the new normal is not less beautiful.

Maybe it is simply more honest.

So if this chapter is slowly evolving into something new, I feel grateful more than sad.

Because Strawberry helped shape us.

And wherever the Leopard Lounge wanders next, it will carry a little bit of the Strawberry Way with it:

Creative courage.Hospitality.Music beneath the stars.And learning to play well with others.

🍓 Come Find Us

Creative courage.
Hospitality.
Music beneath the stars.
And learning to play well with others.

Scoop Taylor & Bleep the Tattoo
Reporting from Strawberry Music Festival
Nevada County Fairgrounds, Grass Valley, California
May 2026