This is embarrassing to admit: Of the 40-some bands at Woodstock '94, I saw only one full set. Why only one?

Because it was three days of music, deadlines and mud-impaired human gridlock. At one point, it took me 30 minutes to walk a mere 25 yards.

There were two giant stages perhaps a half-mile apart, and I had three daily deadlines to file stories for the Star Tribune and twice-daily phone reports to WCCO Radio. Cell phones weren't commonplace then, so I found myself too often anchored in the mammoth media tent -- watching the performances on closed-circuit TV, close to my computer and a balky land-line phone.

The full set I witnessed in person was by Bob Dylan, who didn't make it to the original Woodstock. Three other '94 performances remain vivid:

• An unstoppable Green Day covered in mud, throwing mud at the moshers, and bassist Mike Dirnt getting kicked offstage by security guards (twice!) who mistook him for a stage-diving fan.

• The Red Hot Chili Peppers wearing Afro wigs and matching fringed outfits while doing a Jimi Hendrix sendup.

• "Ravestock," a DJ set that went from 2 a.m. to dawn as about 400 people stood on a damp, 50-degree night, our bodies vibrating from the biggest and most powerful disco speakers ever built.

Of course, it rained for two of the three days. A rock festival without rain is like a concert without an encore. Of course, getting around was problematic. Not only was it 300,000 sardines packed into a muddy field, but your car couldn't get within 10 miles of Gridstock without a pass.

Frustrating? Yes. Fun? Unforgettably so. A big part of that was sharing an overpriced hotel room ($338 for a $69 room) with critics from Detroit and Boston, commiserating about our working conditions -- yes, we were working -- and whining about our roommate who had to wake at 6:30 every morning to call his hometown radio station with chipper jocks joking about Joe Cocker, Porno for Pyros and Arrested Development.

Jon Bream • 612-673-1719