So, picture this. You’re a die-hard Trump supporter (Settle down. I know you’re not that stupid. I’m just painting a picture here). You’re excited to attend a rally in the middle of the Coachella desert. You park five miles away—five whole miles—because the venue, a ranch in the desert, can’t handle the crowd. But hey, no biggie. They’ve got shuttle buses running, so you pile in and get dropped off at the event. Easy, smooth. Not a hitch. It’s like a carnival ride where everything seems perfect until you realize you don’t know where the exit is.
Just going to leave this here so that everyone knows how deeply the bullshit runs while pundits compare the annual Coachella festival to Trump's "Coachella" rally at the former manure farm that is Calhoun Ranch. pic.twitter.com/2arbM6UMpu
— Doon Sandors, MD (@MajorDoon) October 13, 2024
Now, fast-forward to the end of Trump’s speech—80 minutes of pure Trump. He’s riled up the crowd, hit all his favorite talking points: California, immigrants, water rights. The usual. The energy is sky-high. And then, he’s done. You’re feeling good, ready to head back to your car. Only… those buses that brought you in? Yeah, they’re nowhere to be found.
Well, at least Trump had a "concept" of transportation.
Because the car park was five miles from the venue, Trump bussed in thousands of eager MAGA to his Coachella 'rally' — but apparently the campaign didn't inform the bus company they ALSO had to pick them up afterwards… pic.twitter.com/egK6DfMqZy— S. Johannes, PhD (@Sterlingartz) October 13, 2024
Attendees are left standing around like kids waiting for a ride home from soccer practice that’s never coming. And here’s where it gets good: it was all fine on the way in. No problem getting thousands of people bussed in for the rally. But on the way out? Suddenly, it’s like someone pulled the rug out from under you. It’s almost as if once Trump was done with his speech, his team was done with you.
People are standing around, confused, angry, hot—it’s the desert after all. Some buses are gone, some ran out of gas, and some are stuck circling around because, apparently, the logistics team didn’t fill up the tanks. It’s like a bad amusement park where all the rides shut down right as you’re about to get on.
One attendee, Wesley Johnson, who posted a series of since-deleted messages online, summed it up: there was supposed to be a fleet of buses—20, 30 buses at least—running back and forth. But when it came time to head back? Poof. Gone. He said they were told there was “only one bus in rotation.” Imagine standing in a line of thousands, staring into the desert, waiting for one bus that feels like it’s running on a Flintstone engine. It’s maddening, right?
Stranded at 🍊 rally in Coachella. Surely someone is to blame 🫠 When I tell you they are in the middle of nowhere, I am serious. Thoughts & prayers! Watch out for the coyotes! pic.twitter.com/WAVsRG3bfH
— 🪷 Dark Garland 🪑 (@Dark_Garland) October 13, 2024
Johnson also mentioned something even stranger—he claimed bus drivers were saying all the gas stations for buses were out of fuel. How does that even happen? A major political rally, and no one bothered to check if the buses had enough gas? The whole thing smelled fishy. But for the people stranded, it didn’t matter why. They were stuck in the middle of nowhere, feeling forgotten.
The whole situation is like one of those old Western movies where the hero rides into town, rallies the locals to his cause, and then rides off, leaving them in the dust to clean up the mess. Trump came, he conquered, and then—when he didn’t need you anymore—you were left to fend for yourself in the desert, literally.
A woman named Shannon Christine, who also shared her experience online, missed the event altogether because of how chaotic the parking situation was. She said the lines were so long, she and her husband just decided to turn back after waiting for hours. And the ones who stuck it out? Well, they got their rally but ended up stranded in the aftermath. Some had to walk the five miles back to their cars under the desert sky.
This wasn’t just bad event planning; it was a perfect metaphor for Trump’s style of leadership. It’s all about the show, the spectacle, the moment of glory where the crowd is in awe. But once that moment is over, the details fall apart. People are left standing around, waiting for something—anything—to make sense again. Just like those buses that never came, just like the promises that never fully materialized.
So, was this a deliberate strategy to keep people from leaving early? Maybe not officially, but it sure played out that way. When you park five miles away and rely on someone else to get you back, you’re at their mercy. And once Trump was done, it seemed like his team didn’t have much interest in the ride home. It’s as if the part they cared about—your attendance—had been fulfilled, and everything after that? Well, that was your problem.
In the end, Trump delivered a rally like he always does, full of energy and spectacle. But for the thousands of supporters left stranded afterward, it was a harsh reminder that sometimes, once the show is over, you’re on your own.
