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Not just festivals anymore

October 4, 2026

A festival happens twice a year. In between, the tribe meets on a ridge, at a cabin, at someone's birthday — and until now we left it alone there with the group chat. Not anymore.

Saturday, 5:50 a.m. A car park below the mountains, the boot wide open, a thermos on the roof of the car. Four people stand at the meeting point. The fifth is typing in the chat that nobody picked him up — he thought someone was giving him a lift. That someone thought he was taking the train.

We had festivals sorted. The programme, your schedule, who from the tribe is going to the same set. But a festival happens twice a year, and in between the tribe doesn't meet in a field with a stage. It meets on a ridge, at a cabin, at someone's birthday. Until now we left it alone there with the group chat.

Not anymore.

In, maybe, not going

You buy a festival ticket in March. You decide about Saturday's hike on Thursday evening — and half the tribe "doesn't know yet".

So a trip got three answers instead of one: in, maybe, not going — and a date to decide by. Whoever is organising sees who hasn't answered and doesn't have to write to everyone. Whoever is undecided sees who's already going. Which is usually exactly the argument that convinces them.

Who's driving whom

Back to the car park. When you say "in", you now pick: on my own, I can drive, I need a lift, or let's take the train or bus together. If you drive, you say how many seats are free.

The app matches nobody and books nothing — that's your business, and it's happy in the chat. It only shows what sinks in the chat under three hundred messages: two are driving, four seats free, one needs a lift. The fifth guy from the car park would have seen it on Thursday.

Weather where you'll sleep

The forecast for the village where you left the car says it'll be lovely. On the ridge where you pitch the tent at night, it can easily be six degrees colder. And a storm doesn't pick the car park — it comes where you'll sleep.

So the app takes the weather for the place where that day ends, and puts the altitude next to it. One number that explains why the thicker jacket belongs in the backpack. When the path climbs much higher during the day, the app says so too. Gusts, storms and rain get flagged ahead of time — on Thursday on the sofa, not on Saturday on the saddle.

Day by day

Below that, the whole route: distance, ascent, time, where you eat and where you sleep. Drawn on the map, day by day. Every point — a saddle, a hut, a bus stop — is one tap away from navigation. And the packing list is a link, not a photo of a piece of paper in the chat.

And the festival? And the party?

The festival stayed what it was — it just got a camp. You mark your tent, and at three in the morning the compass takes you back to it. Among five hundred identical tents, you no longer find yours by smell.

A celebration is a trip without the backpack. Where, when, who's coming and how many to count on for cake. (If you want a schedule with clash warnings at a birthday, you can switch that on too. We don't judge.)

Where we are today

We still create the events ourselves; self-service isn't here yet. Photos from the event are built but switched off. And we promise no big community — so far these are tribes who know each other.

If you're planning a trip and want to try it, get in touch.

Saturday, 5:50 a.m. Boot closed, all five in the car.

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