Can’t help out the OP, but I was at these shows, too, camped in the lot. Every night was something special in its own way, though I couldn’t tell you exactly how straight from memory. Exhaustion was one element of night three. And rain. I wasn’t such a savvy camper back then and popped my cheapo tent in a low spot. Girlfriend and I had to pile into the back of our friends’ Jimmy with them to stave off hypothermia. I think this was also the first time my young eyes ever witnessed public intercourse; just a little love in the afternoon for a coupla heads doin’ it in the tall grass between camping areas. Of course that was before the rain. Then it was a long-ass drive back to State College, PA, where I had a dirt cheap 4-bedroom apartment with 7 other guys. We all worked at the bar/cafe/music venue next door, and when I got home my boss thought I wasn’t due back for another week, so no work scheduled. Just as well, I needed the recovery time and spent that week teaching myself basic guitar. Got just good enough to sit in with friends who played without totally harshing their jams, and they were generous enough to oblige with further instruction along the way. That summer of ’89 was a kind of time I knew I’d never live again.