Blog
Hello out there. I am finally going to “blog” something about this tour. Really I just want to relay some things along the road that have impressed upon me. First of all, for those who want to travel but have not done it in a while, do yourself a favor and hit the road, hop the train, catch the flight. It truly makes you remember yourself and your own ambitions clearly as you fly by landscapes, slowly forgetting about home. On this particular journey, there are three travelers: Molly McClary, Woody, and myself. Woody is our trusty 1984 Fleetwood Tioga RV. He has all the best parts of home: bathroom, kitchen, dining room table, double bed, suit closets, gear storage, wood paneling, 1970’s curtains, and sputter along the road like he has seen his share of miles. So, off we went. Molly and I moved out of the house, put our big stuff in storage, packed everything we might need for life on the road, cranked Woody’s Chevy 350 V8, and we set sail.
First stop, Memphis Tennessee. We met up with Jeffrey James and The Haul, possibly some of the nicest guys ive ever met, also great musicians. Imagine The Band meets Crazy horse. I know, I know. Our friend Lisa took us out to a Pirate Bar called The Cove, still the coolest pirate bar ive seen on this whole journey. Ben Nichols of Lucero showed, good times. Check out Lucero’s new record (with a horn section!) HERE. The next morning we drove to Little Rock, Arkansas, where the weather got just a little colder. We walked into The Rev Room and grabbed coffee. Being on a budget on the road can be slightly frustrating. The Rev Room has a tequila bar…. I settled on coffee to ease the wallet. We played a giant room for a small group, its was…. Intimate. However, if you like The Black Lips or rock n roll with some youthful angst, you might want to check out Frown Pow’r. Great guys, great band, I hope they come to Nashville soon.
That night we drove south and slept at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere Arkansas. Woke up, opened the door, super cold. Well, super cold for October. We put on our hoodies and drove straight south to Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I should mention now that our gas gauge doesn’t work. So every 200 miles, we stop and fill up. Woody can drink about 36 gallons of gas, and as gas prices increased, this was the first sign of what was to come: extremely large gas fill ups. By the time we got out at a gas station in rural Louisiana, It was hot and muggy. Literally, I stepped out of the RV and it felt like the gulf had wrapped my face in a wet towel and set me on fire. The hoodies went back in the closet. Here is another good time to mention something “charming” about Woody. The dash A/C doesn’t work. The cabin A/C does, but the dash does not. The never ending sweat began. Sweat in my eye, sweat dripping from my beard, sweat sweat sweat.
We met up with Jonathon Tillman in Baton Rouge. Possibly one of the nicest, genuinely caring music lovers I have met. He promotes and helps travelling musicians he likes simply out of the goodness of his heart. A patron saint of the independent tour. We played The NorthGate Tavern with a singer named Luke Ash who is playing with me at in Nashville this January. If it tells you anything about the hospitality of North Gate, even the bartenders bought merch from me. We plugged Woody into Jonathon’s house outlet, and ZZZZZzzzzz.
We pulled into New Orleans with the river on our minds and parked Woody under a tree down by the bank. We walked the streets all day, grabbed a margarita, and ate at The Central Grocery, home of the Muffalatta. If you ever make it down to NOLA, I highly recommend grabbing one of the best sandwiches on earth, right here at The Central Grocery. Since New Orleans was way to humid in October for our tastes, and the RV was parked on the street, we sprung for a hotel. Thank you Priceline.com! We met our friend Andy, ate oysters, drank beer, spend too much of our little money, and played the show at The Circle Bar, a converted living room of an old corner house with a full bar. Good bar. By now the humidy was saturating our brains, and putting us to sleep. That night we slept the good Hotel sleep. And oh yea, I got so hot, I cut my own hair for relief.
The next day we really wanted to get the hell out of New Orleans. Nothing personal, just needed to move on. We drove due west towards Texas. Suddenly, we realized we had a big problem. See, since we don’t have a gas gauge, every time we fill up we log it, and calculate the MPG. We usually average a pathetic 7 or 8 if we’re lucky. That hot afternoon, our MPG began to drop gas station by gas station. 7 MPG….. 6.4 MPG… 5.5 MPG….. andfinally 4.4 MPG…….. Its enough to make a grown man cry. Which I did not. Not yet. We turned south and drove to Galveston, Texas. An island in the gulf that was flattened by a hurricane in 2007. We pulled into our first proper RV Park, about 100 feet from the shore. It was beautiful. We spent the next 3 days walking the beach, drinking cheep beer, playing pool at Jamaica Beach RV Park, and trying to figure out what to about Woody’s “issue”. We even contemplated taking him home and grabbing my car. It would prove to be a fateful decision we chose not to make. The Gulf of Mexico misted at Woody’s windshield, leaving a salt residue similar to an empty margarita rim. Ahhh…. The island life.
We finally left Galveston, drove to a mechanic, he reset the carborator,and fixed a few minor issues we hoped was the problem. We drove west toward San Antonio, and stopped in a tiny town called Columbus where we stopped for 3 boring days. The Gas Mileage improved a bit, but Woody still seemed sick. We then headed in Helotes, TX, a tiny awesome suburb of San Antonia where our show was at the legendary Floore’s Country Store. That night we went to possibly one of my favorite dive bars ive ever been in, Helote’s Country Club. We walked in about 8pm, grabbed a Lonestar, and before I knew it, all the bar regulars knew we were musicians, and insisted I grab my guitar. We played songs all night while they bought us beer, and a few of them were great pickers themselves. This is whats its all about, by far the highlight of the trip so far. I played a song of mine called “it’s a long way to heaven” that they insisted I play again and then they dubbed it “the Rodney Crowell Song”. That’s just fine with me. The next day we dropped by The Alamo. “Remember the Alamo!”…… I even got to see Davey Crockets homemade vest. Apparently, Tennessee is called The Volunteer State because David Crockett Volunteered to help the soldiers at The Alamo, and died for it. I did not know this. Floore’s is intimidating and huge. It if says anything, Ray Price was playing there soon. Willie Nelson used to play there every Saturday. Needless to say, I was honored. They fed us a steak dinner, and our friend Jo Carrol brought us a good ‘ol Texas welcome basket including chips, queso, local beer, and rice n beans. Times were good!
Next, I learned a geography lesson. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, Tucson Arizona is 14 hours from San Antonio. Oops. We drove Woody all through the night after our show at Floore’s without stopping. We slept for 4 hours and finished the drive. By the time we got to The Red Room, a great old school diner with a full bar, we were Zombies. After the show, we were too tied to hang out, we drove about 30 minutes to a truck stop and passed out. The next day, we had a show booked in Flagstaff Arizona at Hotel Monte Vista. We drove due north all afternoon. Woody began to….. rattle. Rattle loudly. Actually, come to think of it, Woody began to rattle in Texas. Every time we hit a hill, he rattled. It wasn’t good, we knew it. Flagstaff is 7,000 feet above sea level. I didn’t think Woody was up for it. We hit the first big stretch, Woody slowed to 35 miles an hour, we hit the right lane, flashers on. He began to rattle louder, imagine going the first hill on a roller coaster.
Click click click click click click….
Click click click…….
The temperature gauge moved closer and closer to the red.
I almost pulled over. I thought we were gonna roll down the mountain.
Then……….
The gauge receded and we kicked into almost 40 miles an hour! Woo hoo, we might make it!
We did indeed make it, if barely.
I cannot express how wonderfully beautiful Flagstaff and the surrounding mountains are. It took me by total surprise. I figured Arizona was all desert. It is, without a doubt, MUCH more. As the elevation climbed, Pine trees began to cut the sky, the hot air from my window became a cool, crisp breeze. The smell of engine and heat gave way to mountain air. I couldn’t help but smile. On top of that, We drove into Flagstaff and the town is simply perfect. A mountain town littered with coffee shops and cafes. Its small, the residential houses are a few blocks from historic downtown. There is a college. There is a railroad that still runs a block from downtown and it howls all night. Hotel Monte Vista was built in the 1920s and is supposed to be haunted actually. They gave us a free room for playing. The entire floor had one shower and toilet to share, the rooms were small with sink, dresser, tv, bed, and window. No phone, no new amenities. It was PERFECT. I didn’t want to leave the next day. The show went well, the town was stealing my heart….. until we meet again Flagstaff…..
After taking one last walk around Flagstaff, enjoying the fall air, stepping on orange and yellow leaves, admiring the beauty of its simplicity….. we drove off. We now had headed toward Grand Canyon National Park, only 70 miles away. The road towards the Grand Canyon is spotted with trailers in the middle of nowhere, sporting make shift decks. Truly simple living. We had both been to the Grand Canyon before, but it didn’t seem to matter. She truly is one of a kind. As you stare down the canyon side where the Colorado River has cut paths for millions of years, you get the same feelings the first time you stare at the ocean: people are small and young, humanity is new. The earth is not. We walked around the south rim until we found a spot to watch the sunset. As the sun lowered in the horizon, the reds, yellows, oranges, shadows, and highlights reflected again the east canyon walls. That night we camped in the park, drank wine, ate Ramen noodles (that’s right),and looked at the stars with Molly’s telescope. I’m sure if I have ever seen as many stars in the sky before in my life. It was a new moon, so there was no light other than the stars for hundreds and hundreds of miles. It was the kind of night where you might wish to see a shooting star and within minutes, shoot! There one went across the black. It was perfect.
The next day we drove westward towards California, through Nevada. We even drove right through the Hoover Dam. We were so close to Las Vegas….. we had to stop right? We were broke, but this could be our big chance? Molly, myself, and Woody all agreed we had to try. We pulled into the city of sin and parked at the only RV park in downtown at The Circus Circus Casino. We put on our best, pocketed $20 a piece, and headed out for the town. We made it 30 minutes at The Roulette table and our money was gone. However, we spent the next couple hours drinking free drinks and playing penny slots. It could have been worse. We woke up a bit broker, but still in high spirits we pointed Woody west towards the coast and hit the gas. There is a mountain range just past the border of California. This almost killed Woody. He choked, he rattled, he cranked, he moaned, he even quit altogether in a toll booth line. But we willed him onward and upward, slowly……. We almost overheated again, but we made it….down….down…down into the valley of California just before the Coast, to Aliso Viejo, the new home of my parents. We drove Woody to their street, put him in park, breathed a sigh of relief, and grabbed our bags. We had made over 3,000 miles across America, enjoying every moment of the ride, if not worried about our friend Woody. We had played songs in 6 states and we weren’t even half way done. We enjoyed some much needed mindless couching for 3 days, TV TV TV TV TV, more TV! Finally, on Thursday, we took Woody to a mechanic we heard might be good from one of my dad’s work buddies and drove my mom’s Ford Mustang to Joshua Tree. The mechanic called us an hour later and told us the news.
Diagnosis: Woody had a heart attack. He will die without a new heart. It car terms, he isn’t firing on all cylinders, lacking compression, broken piston ring, busted head gasket, and dying. We needed a new engine.
Cost: $4,000…….. yea right.
We drove to Joshua Tree trying not to think about our wounded vessel and pulled into Pioneer Town. For those of you who don’t know, Pioneer Town is a tiny place just outside Joshua Tree that was started by Gene Autry and some other investors as a movie set for westerns. And it still looks just like that, a western. There is one motel (The Pioneer Town Motel), one Saloon (Pappy and Harriett’s), and one dirt street with old wooden store fronts, unaltered from their film debuts. You can drink in the street(s) there too. It is also the setting for one of Josh Ritter’s Videos, check it out: Lillian, Egypt. We got a room in the motel, couldn’t help ourselves. We walked the 50 feet to Pappy and Harriets, played a show, met some great people, and drank whiskey for what seemed like hours. Well, I did. Molly drank vodka I think. I thought it must be 3am….the conversations were good, the cigarettes tasted better, and the desert air kept me happy on my bar stool. Turns out, it was only around 11pm when we left. Once again, the stars were all out to say hello. As if to remind us “don’t worry, we are still here, your engine will be ok.”
We returned to Aliso Viejo the next day and spent the weekend with my parents, eating, drinking, and walking Laguna Beach. We washed our hands in the sea to celebrate our own Lewis and Clark adventure.
Monday we took Woody to another mechanic, Robert at Master Auto Care for a second opinion. He seemed much more experienced and ready for anything. A kind of Jedi Master in the mechanic world. He called 2 days later, same story. He needs a new engine.
We are now stranded in Southern California enjoying our ground hog day for the next few weeks. We managed to devise a plan to get a new engine, thanks to our families and our beloved credit Card companies. OUCH. We have 2 weeks until he is fixed, luckily we had all this time off anyway. Then we are off to Colorado to enjoy some winter weather, hopefully passing Utah on the way and then into the Midwest before coming home. Broke, bored, and trapped here in southern California… but the music goes on!
Until then…..
Godspeed. Be prosperous. Do not go quietly into the night. YAWP!
Jacob
Bound For Glory TOUR Grand Canyon Video! -- shot and edited by Molly McClary
