I Saw Madelyn Cline, Sydney Sweeney & Post Malone At Stagecoach

Stagecoach was never on my bucket list. I’m a country fan, sure, but I also know festivals are marathons, and I am not a runner. So when the chance came up to head to Indio, California, for three days in the desert, I said yes for one reason: I am, above all, a person who can be talked into things.

Reader, the desert delivered. Across three days with T-Mobile, I survived an emergency evacuation, got stung by my first bee in two decades, ate Dave’s Hot Chicken in the middle of a dust storm, and clocked more celebs than I could fit on a single disposable camera roll.

Read on for my full diary: the performances, the sightings, the pop-ups, and how a 49ers tight end ended up in my phone.

Day 1: Sunset with Ella Langley & a Gospel Choir Cameo

3:00 p.m.: Jet lag had me up at the crack of dawn, so by mid-afternoon I’d already lounged poolside, drafted my cowboycore ‘fits with my roommate Mary, and hydrated within an inch of my life. We met up with our group at La Quinta Resort & Spa for a quick snack-and-socialize before the shuttle to the festival grounds.

5:00 p.m.: Inside Club Magenta, T-Mobile's exclusive on-site lounge (complete with couches, photo opps, and charging stations) for customers with Magenta status (an automatic perk on all postpaid and most prepaid plans), the celeb sightings and photo opps started immediately. I was there to interview Bachelor alum Rachael Kirkconnell, but she wasn't the only Bachelor Nation regular hanging around: Joey Graziadei, Kelsey Anderson, and Blake Horstmann were all in the mix, alongside Horstmann’s wife, Love Is Blind’s Giannina Gibelli. Madelyn Cline was nearby with her boyfriend, content creator Henry Smith. Dylan Efron was lounging like he owned the place.

I ignored every urge to fan-girl and got into the interview. Mary, ever the helpful plus-one, ran assistant duties on our disposable camera shoot, and even loaned Kirkconnell her cowboy hat for a few shots.

6:30 p.m.: Wrapped with Kirkconnell and headed to Mane Stage just as Ella Langley’s set kicked off, with perfect sunset timing. Brianna LaPaglia had joined the influencer pack from earlier, and we took it all in from the pit section. Langley played the bangers (“Choosin’ Texas,” “Be Her,” “You Look Like You Love Me,” for which she pulled out podcaster Theo Von) and had the whole pit screaming along.

7:30 p.m.: A stop in the VIP-access Rhinestone Saloon food hall yielded chicken tenders and fries. Twisted Teas in hand, we caught a chunk of Bailey Zimmerman’s set, where I spotted George Kittle, San Francisco 49ers tight end. Mary is from San Francisco. A photo was, of course, taken.

8:30 p.m.: Top of my Stagecoach to-do list: Red Clay Strays, live. I'd made Mary listen to “Demons in Your Choir” on loop earlier in the day, a critical pre-game ritual. They were every bit worth the hype, and when they brought out a full Gospel choir, I genuinely became a different woman. I now believe all live performances should do the same.

9:30 p.m.: Sprinted to make the shuttle. Half the bus was singing Langley back at full volume; the ringleader paused to welcome us aboard with a “Best dressed #2 and #3 is here!” I'll take it.

Day 2: A Teddy Swims Q&A, Followed by a Windy Night

11:30 a.m.: After a Saturday morning of cowboy romance reading (Wild and Wrangled by Lyla Sage, if you must know) and approximately a gallon of coffee, the group of journalists headed to the festival early for an exclusive Q&A, put on by T-Mobile to coincide with Club Magenta’s Teddy-inspired takeover. They offered airbrush tattoos as a nod to the “Mr. Know It All” singer.

1:00 p.m.: Swims rolled in a few minutes late but more than made up for it. He took questions about the evolution of country music, how he chooses special guests, and, unprompted, broke into a little Shania Twain. “Forever and For Always” is one of his all-time favorites. The festival doors swung open mid-Q&A, so the moment fans clocked who was singing into the mic, the cheers were instant. We swung by the merch stand on the way out and headed back to La Quinta to refresh.

5:00 p.m.: We grabbed birria tacos and ate them like civilized people on one of Club Magenta’s pink couches, soundtracked by Swims’ set in the distance and another round of Cline-and-Smith people-watching.

6:30 p.m.: Made our way to the Mane Stage pit for Little Big Town. “Girl Crush” and “Better Man” required full pit access for full emotional release; I may or may not have crashed out during the latter. Worth it. Sydney Sweeney, Scooter Braun, Mila Kunis, and Ashton Kutcher all turned up during the set. Bachelor alum Anna Redman offered to take a disposable shot of us, which is how that ended up on the roll.

7:45 p.m.: Waiting in the pit for Riley Green when the wind picked up fast. We started the walk back to refuge just as the screens flashed red: “The festival has been postponed until further notice. Please move quickly and calmly to the nearest exit.”

We complied. The bus back to La Quinta, which transformed into a party bus within approximately 90 seconds, got us home in 45 minutes. Right on cue, news broke that the festival had reopened. We were already done.

Day 3: Redemption, Capped by Post Malone

11:00 a.m.: Brunch at the La Quinta suite came with a private performance from Noah Rinker, plus mimosas, avocado toast, and the breakfast of champions energy. The afternoon: pool time, a bee sting (my first in 20 years, just to make it memorable), and one final ‘fit prep.

4:45 p.m.: First stop on festival grounds: Sydney Sweeney's SYRN Saloon, which had promised karaoke and free underwear. I struck out on both, but did discover Golden Road's Mango Cart, now my official festival beer.

6:45 p.m.: Drifted to the Mustang stage for Third Eye Blind. We hung at the back near the food stalls (Mary needed a corn dog, I needed Dave's Hot Chicken) while “Jumper” and “Never Let You Go” played the score. Lesson learned: Dave’s “medium” is a personal attack.

7:50 p.m.: Back at Mane Stage in time for Brooks & Dunn, then Post Malone. The wind kicked up again, so I burrito-wrapped myself in a pashmina and committed.

Post Malone’s set was, in a word, incredible. Covers, surprise guests (Shaboozey, Braxton Keith, Jake Worthington), and the old hits we needed: “Circles,” “Rockstar.” Exactly what a Stagecoach headlining set should be.

11:00 p.m.: Closed out the night with Ludacris on the Mustang stage. (On the walk over, we spotted Summer House's Lindsay Hubbard. The blonde bob is a giveaway.) “Baby,” “Act a Fool,” “Yeah!” Peak energy, exactly what we needed to push through.

By 11:55, when Luda wrapped, my feet were toast, and there was desert dust in places it should never be. I wouldn't change a thing, except maybe the evac.