Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The Galt Line Beer and Sausages Tour Day +1

We got Pigeon Holed! Hard!

In a scramble, we packed the van. There is still business to be done after all. We need to change the oil, rotate the tires, check the brakes, pack the chuck box, check the camping equipment, pack some clothes, change strings on all of the instruments, make posters and flyers for the remaining venues, collate show data into an itinerary, figure out where we’re to stay, etc.

It’s still not all done, but we got the basics together rolled out to do Nate’s new podcast at Chloe’s before we rush to Charlottesville VA to play a show. We set up fast and played a tight little show that Nate recorded on a handheld digital recorder. Neha came out to visit, so we dedicated a tune to her newfound citizenship. Unfortunately it was for naught. Nate, being new to his digital recording wonder, accidentally deleted the show. Alright by us, we’ll do another.

After Chloe’s, we hit the road for Charlottesville by way of Frederick and route 340. It felt good to leave the DC in the rearview for a while. The terrain became rockier as we crossed the Shenandoah, and limped across West Virginia in some surprisingly dense traffic. Soon we were on I-81, rocketing down the valley, keeping pace with 18 wheelers and sliding past great green hills.

A turn on I-64 took us through the George Washington National Forest right at sunset. The highway clung to the hills, twisting across cliff tops, offering views of wooded hills stretching to the horizon. Soon we were in Charlottesville. We knew we had arrived when we saw countless college types crossing the street, just beginning their prowl for merriment and casual evening company.

The Pigeon Hole is a very small beer joint that does excellent food and has a beautiful patio that opens onto a busy street. We set up outside and shared a beer with Pete Stallings before he started up his opening set of original tunes. A few tables full of barely 21 kinda people paid little attention, but clapped politely whenever Pete put a cap on one of his songs.

We stepped up and launched in. The crowd was very lame. There was nothing we could do for these people. Blythe screamed louder, I played faster. No reaction. There were a few hanging out that seemed to be quietly appreciating our set. The guys running the venue genuinely enjoyed it. Also, Sally Rose, local musician, and one time would-be gig mate, came in to see what we were up to. She and her friend danced and laughed, and kept up our energy.

Sally Rose

To put a nail in the coffin, the bar across the street started pumping out dance tunes, blanketing the once quiet street with today’s latest hits. We turned up loud and played a few more, but had to call it a night as their sound system was far superior to our own.

We ended the night quietly in a cabin on Pete’s mom’s farm. Sitting on the floor and drinking wine with Pete was all we need to cap off this long and crazy day.

Tomorrow… Pizza, Cider, Larping, and Gone Studios.

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