For possibly the last time, music lovers and artists gathered in Clearwater Forest Camp for the intimate annual gathering.

Vance Gilbert performs at Storyhill Fest. Photo by Carol Roth.

A few weeks before Storyhill Fest, word went out that this would not only be the final iteration of the festival for the foreseeable future, it’d also be the last appearance of Storyhill, the longstanding folk duo formed by Chris Cunningham and John Hermanson. Having heard about the festival for the past couple years, I was extra glad I’d finally made plans to go, even before I knew it would be the last.

Taking place in Clearwater Forest Camp near Deerwood, MN, about two hours north of the Twin Cities, Storyhill is a laid-back little late August gem whose attendees number in the hundreds rather than the thousands of other festivals attended this year. But the caliber of talent in their nine-act lineup was unmistakable, so I was excited to see them in such an intimate setting. In addition, I’d heard that many of the acts participate in late-night campfire jams after the main show ends.

Despite my best intentions, I couldn’t wrap up my work fast enough and arrived a little late on Friday. Although I was disoriented having just arrived at the festival site, where cabins and campgrounds and parking lot and stage area were each out of sight of the other through the trees, I followed the sound of music from the parking lot and found the stage.

As I got closer, I made out the first lyrics of the weekend: “People drift through this life half asleep / I swear they’re scared to grow old and die / but my momma she tells me it’s all too easy / to let it all pass by.” It was the perfect way to open the festival, reminding me why I get myself into adventures like Storyhill in the first place: to live a rich life, not sit around and let it pass me by. The song (I figured out later) was “Lost in This Canyon” by the festival openers, Wyoming duo The Two Tracks, who were just wrapping up their set. I got to hear one more from them, a poignant story song about a fire watch tower worker called “Paintbrush Fields of Red.” My brief encounter with this act left a big impression on me.

The next act was one I’d been excited to see again after first experiencing her at Mile of Music in Wisconsin a couple weeks earlier and featuring her in our About That Song blog series. North Carolina singer-songwriter Nikki Morgan has a versatile sound that sometimes scratches my angsty folk girl itch (think Tori Amos or Ani DiFranco) but at other times leans into a 1950s country-rock feel that gives me Johnny Cash vibes. Case in point: Two of my favorites of hers are an unreleased folk ballad with the indelible line “Things change and they fall apart / learning to love is such a fragile art” and a gritty Sun Studios-esque rocker called “I’m Going Home.”

Still feeling unmoored with my new home for the weekend, I spent a few minutes after Nikki’s set worriedly looking for the dining hall, only to realize the food service was set up at the back of the festival area. That meant I didn’t miss any of the next act while waiting in line for dinner.

I was very glad about that because next up was Minnesota singer-songwriter (and friend to AiA) Sarah Morris. (We’ve had her on our Smouse in the House podcast as well as our North Country Song Sessions video series, and she’s now part of the Adventures in Americana team, creating the About That Song series.) Morris writes empathetic, thoughtful songs that wrestle with questions or share a slice of real life. They usually land in positive, warmhearted territory, though she does have a slightly darker streak, as she demonstrated with “Ruthless.”

The fourth act, Justin Roth, was also an About That Song guest, as Sarah Morris gathered interviews from several of them in the weeks leading up to Storyhill Fest. This Colorado artist’s guitar playing is incredible but I was especially struck by the storytelling in his lyrics, including several songs focused on climate change with a Colorado perspective. As an added bonus to this thought-provoking set, Roth was joined for a song by none other than festival hosts Storyhill, adding their voices to his for sublime three-part harmonies.

Storyhill capped off the main show (as they would the following night too). I’d seen them before in a bigger indoor venue, which was a great show, but this was something special. Maybe it was the outdoor stage in the woods, and their clear sense of familiarity with the forest that’s been home to the festival for years. Maybe they were thinking about how these would be their last performances together. Either way, their harmonies sounded even more magical. Cunningham and Hermanson are one of those duos whose voices meld so well, it’s difficult not to think there’s some cosmic connection that brought them together.

Their set ended, but Storyhill (the festival) doesn’t end when the main stage lights go out. I fumbled my way to my bunkhouse (it gets dark in those woods!) to change into warmer clothes as a hint of impending fall crispness sifted through the previously hot humid air. Then I headed toward one of the key attractions of the festival: the late-night campfire jam!

The campfire at Storyhill Fest. Photo by Carol Roth.

Several dozen people surrounded a big fire, and in the inner ring sat several of the festival’s featured acts: Justin Roth, Nikki Morgan, Storyhill and one half of The Two Tracks. I also got previews of two acts I’d see the next day, Scott Cook and Vance Gilbert. It was a casual, unhurried song swap with artists sometimes providing improvised solos for one another, other times just listening intently.

The tone of the songs ranged from gross-out funny (Roth’s cover of Christopher Smith’s “Dead Horse Trampoline” to the pensive, bittersweet “Dogs and Kids” by Scott Cook, to the blue-collar protest song “Workingman Blues” (performed by one half of The Two Tracks, cellist Dave Huebner). “I’ve never done that song with just cello,” he said modestly after the gathering erupted in cheers, summing up what’s amazing about happenings like this and live music in general: the chance to witness something that will never be replicated exactly. (I must confess here that despite my desire to not miss a thing, the jam was still going when I left at midnight!)

My arriving late had made the first day feel a little hectic, so I took it easy the next morning. I got myself together just in time for a 10am workshop with Sarah Morris on how to build sustainable creative habits. She’s well known in the local music community for her prolific songwriting, so I was intrigued to hear how she does it. I didn’t anticipate just how effective her advice would be, but it inspired me to make a change to my daily routine that has already boosted my creative output and gotten my fitness routine on a more even keel! If you get a chance to hear her speak on this topic, I highly recommend it.

There were more workshops and activities throughout the day, but the forest was beckoning me to relax. The festival’s setting unexpectedly gave me space for some much-needed downtime and solitude. Unlike bigger festivals, I didn’t need to hole up in a tent or hotel room to get quiet time; I just wandered aimlessly through the trees and along the lake or found quiet spots to sit.

Molly Maher and Her Disbelievers. Photo by Carol Roth.

The main show for day two kicked off in the late afternoon with a beautiful rootsy set from Molly Maher and Her Disbelievers that helped me shake off my relaxed daze. She’s a relatively recent discovery for me but a longstanding Minnesota act who’s right up my alley, so it’s surprising to me that I didn’t run across her music much sooner. Maher fuses country, blues and folk with effortlessly cool vocals and guitar playing, assisted by a backing band that included Erik Koskinen on electric.

Pamela Mae and Scott Cook. Photo by Carol Roth

Next up was Edmonton folk artist Scott Cook, another performer featured on About That Song. He opened his set with “Pass It Along,” a tune that he says has taken on a life of its own, even appearing in the online version of Rise Up Singing. Happily, he also played “Dogs and Kids,” which had been a highlight of the campfire jam the night before. Cook and his partner Pamela Mae delivered a truth-telling set in the best folk tradition that got one of the biggest standing ovations I saw all weekend.

Next up was Minneapolis alt-folk act Humbird. A familiar favorite I’ve seen many times led by singer-songwriter Siri Undlin, I knew they wouldn’t disappoint. Their shows can range from fairly traditionally folk to pretty out there, but whenever I see bass/keyboard player Pat Keen on stage with her, I know it’s going to be the latter.

True to form, Humbird delivered easily the most experimental, modern set of the weekend. It was a bold choice for this festival, which leans more in the classic acoustic folk direction, but it was a great change of pace and the crowd was here for it. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who outright wept during a few of the songs (you try and get through “Summer Storm for Charlotte” or “On the Day We Are Together Again” without a lump in your throat!). Anyway, I’m always prepared to cry at a Humbird show, and it’s a cathartic cry, so I always leave feeling better.

The fourth act of the day was another I’d caught a glimpse of at the jam the night before (and another featured About That Song artist), Vance Gilbert. At the campfire, someone complimented his pajama pants and he said he’d wear them instead of his planned outfit for his main stage performance. I was delighted to see that he followed through on his off-the-cuff promise; seeing a monstrously talented and seasoned performer playing out in the woods in pajamas was just the best. His distinctive jazzy style of folk music and heavenly voice were captivating.

Gilbert’s presence and patter were quirky but also frank: “Hello to the two other Black people here!” he said (he wasn’t far wrong—he and Nikki Morgan were two of very few people of color I spotted there). I appreciated him calling it out; Americana is by no means a white music form, so the more attention paid to its lack of diversity the better!

Gilbert rounded out an all-killer no-filler bill. Storyhill took the headline slot again, and another campfire jam went long into the night. At least so I heard. The forest continued to soothe me and tell me to relax, so I had an early night. Usually I leave multi-day events exhilarated but exhausted, but I took advantage of the mellow atmosphere at this low-key brilliant festival and returned home rejuvenated and inspired. If Storyhill Fest ever comes up again, don’t miss it!

Carol Roth at Turf Club. Photo credit: Dan Lee.

Carol Roth is a full-time marketing copywriter and the main music journalist and social media publicist for Adventures in Americana. In addition to studying the guitar and songwriting, Carol’s additional creative side hustle is writing self-proclaimed “trashy” novels under the pseudonym T.A. Berkeley!

Event Review: Storyhill Fest 2023 in Deerwood, Minnesota

Event Review: Great River Folk Festival 2023 in La Crosse, Wisconsin

About That Song: Vance Gilbert