Day 28 - The House of Sand and Fog (The Fun One!) -or- Costal Living on a Valley Budget

We woke refreshed in Shirley’s house. Quietly, we made ourselves some coffee and traipsed our way out. Backing out of her driveway, we decided what to do with our day off. We turned the van toward the highway, ready to hit the coast again. Traveling over a range of hills, a quiet rain began to tap on the windshield, and a fog rolled across the highway. In about an hour we found ourselves twisting on the coastal highway, peering over seaside cliffs, beleaguered by a perpetual rain and blank white fog.

We stopped at a few pull-offs on the roadside to stare through the fog, trying to imagine an ocean underneath. Soon we found a Forest Service installation built to give access to a feature called “Devil’s Churn”. With a long descent down some sodden stone stairs, we found a rocky inlet that the sea had carved. Waves smashed into the rock corridor and shot spray 20 feet into the air.

Down another path we found great access to a rocky beach dappled with tidal pools and terminating in the ocean. We found the strangest plants and shelled sea creatures clinging to the sharp stones, the whole mess rinsed again and again with surging sea spray.

Back in the van, we saw seaside towns sprout up along the route. Most had just a little seafood restaurant and a small motel. This got us thinking about where we were going to stay for the night. As I drove, Blythe called motels with interesting names that were listed in the GPS, looking for a cheap price. After some time driving north, the small villages gave way to larger towns with movie theaters and grocery stores.

Eventually Blythe found The Ester Lee, a motel perched on a cliff overlooking a broad sandy beach and crashing waves. The lady on the phone gave us a deal on a room with a great view and a gas fireplace. We took it, eager to drink some and look out over the ocean. There was also an Indian casino conveniently located nearby with a cheap buffet.

This was completely our dream. Nothing does it for us like a cheesy casino, booze, clean sheets, and cable TV. Add a nice warm fireplace and a view of the pounding surf, and we’re in. We hurled our stuff into the room and drove 10 minutes down to the casino.

Now, Blythe loves to join the “player’s club” of these sorts of places because they usually give you a little free slot play. This evening it paid off in spades. We won enough money for our dinner with the free slot play. So we were pretty pleased when we walked out full of buffet food and with a successful little grift under our belts.

Back in the room we cracked a 3 dollar bottle of wine, watched TV and stood in front of that beautiful window. We even got a little work done on the computer. It was a good night. Around 3 am, long after Blythe had nodded off, my own eyes began to droop while typing up a blog. With a final swill of cider, I lay down and was carried off gently to sleep with the sounds of SeaLab in the background.

Thanks to Shirley for the place to stay, and to the Chinook Winds (Salmon Farts) Casino for dinner.

Tomorrow - Weather on the coast and weather in the valley, waking up in Portland, Langano Lounge, and our friend from Brooklyn Sarah Buckley w/ all her musical goodness and friends in tow.

Day 27 - Redding to leave California Already! -or- Oregonna Start Playing Already!?

California doesn’t mean a thing to us now. It was time to move on. We rolled out fast and blasted up I-5 as fast as we could. Before long we hit the California border. Blythe was so happy to be in Oregon that she fell asleep as quickly as possible.

We were rolling toward Roseburg when the Cascade Mountains peeked over the horizon, and soon surrounded us with warm green hills, and snow-streaked rocky peaks. The van plowed through these mountains, eating I-5 with nervous energy. Piney forests raced by as new peaks rose and fell. All the while a mist crawled in over the ridge, and slowly enveloped us, erasing the beautiful view.

We rolled right into Roseburg OR with no trouble. Soon we were in front of My Coffee and The Wine Experience, our venue for the evening. We were first greeted by Dixie, who bears a striking resemblance to Kari from “MythBusters”. After some computer work, we met Deb and Shasta. Deb runs the coffeehouse. Shasta runs music for several spots in the Roseburg area via Shasta Ray Productions, including My Coffee.

After some set up, we played to a pretty full audience who were appreciative and complimentary. With a few glasses of wine, we found it easy to play for a few hours. It was a pretty easy show.

Afterward, Shasta was kind enough to fix us up with Shirley, who gave us a great place to sleep. Shirley took us through town, and back to her neat house. She bustled around to fix up some food while telling us about a drive in theater she owns in central California. She brought out industry magazines and posters dating back to the 50’s.

Shirley cooked us a nice late night dinner of poached eggs, purple potatoes hash browns, fresh pineapple and bagels with cream cheese. We stayed up late talking about where she came from in California, the oddly busy music scene in Roseburg, and travel all over the world.

Everyone called it quits for the night, and Blythe and I curled up in clean sheets, reading Craig Ferguson’s book, and “Forbidden Knowledge”, a book about useless ways to do things nobody should ever do.

Thanks to Deb at My Coffee, and Shasta at Shasta Ray Productions for booking us, and Shirley for putting us up.

Tomorrow, a day off on the coastal highway, a casino, and a beautiful seaside hotel room.

Day 26 - Highway 1 revisited - or - Our Coffee Adventures in Subsidized Street Performance.

We rolled off the futon at Chris’s place slightly hung over. We had a short ride in heavy traffic ahead of us. The gig this day was 11am-1pm at a tiny coffee shop in San Francisco. With a few wrong turns and a few corrections, we got ourselves onto the Bay Bride, and were on our way.

Soon we arrived. Coffee Adventurers is a tiny and clean little coffee shop with unique drinks and a large and mysteriously placed toy racetrack in the middle of it. Bob and Nicole greeted us warmly and got us set up with some coffee and breakfast. After eating, and soaking up a moment of golden sunshine on the sidewalk, we set up just outside the door. We were essentially playing to the street, though the conceit was that we were there for anyone who wanted to sit outside.

We play for 2 hours to passersby. We made a little in tips, but the real payment was the pleasant time playing a very casual set. At the end, Bob complimented our music and sent us off with another set of drinks. We loaded out, and pointed the car toward the Golden Gate Bridge.

The bridge had us out of town in no time, and with a few turns we were on Highway 1 again, rolling across dramatic mountain tops over looking Muir beach, and the Pacific stretching to the horizon. For 3 hours we soaked up the scenery of tiny coastal towns tucked next to little bays and mammoth green hills. Soon our empty stomachs made us turn in toward civilization.

We stopped at a Costco for a pizza and some cheap gas. Here we discovered that our little adventure on Highway 1 had increased our total drive time by hours. We had only come a little more that fifty miles from San Francisco. We pointed the van eastwardly to catch I-5 which zips up a much flatter section of northern California. Unfortunately it would take us nearly sixty miles across a treacherous mountain range. Fortunately though, the route did take us though sections of Napa valley and through parts of a petrified forest.

Before we were out of the hills, the sun dropped out of the sky, and we were left to twist through the mountains in a very dark night. With a final hairy descent from the mountains, we found ourselves on a scrubby plain, dappled with lakes. We hit the highway and drove until our eyes began to droop.

Nearly 200 miles in we were approaching Redding California. We saw signs for Alamo Motel and RV park. We HAD to stop. Perhaps some of our friends can elaborate in comments as to why, but it has to do with a very strange adventure in Ocean City Maryland, also involving an Alamo Motel.

An energetic little man with a Jesus T-shirt, hat, and poster greeted us in the office and quickly got us set up with a room. We were asleep by 11.

Day 25 - Carmeled and Covered in Chocolate -or- Mama Buzzed by Low Flying Aircraft

That was some of the best sleep for the entire trip. We woke up pretty early and got ready slow. The sun was finally showing as we threw our stuff in the van check out. With a quick stop at a grocery store for some lunch, we headed out of town. We had one detour to make to Last Stage West to pick up a mic clip we left.

Pulling through highway 41, we saw Tom still spreading gravel on the parking lot of Last Stage West. Tom greeted us with a smile, and after a moment’s conversation we were gone again. We took highway 1 for a while, reveling in clifftop views of the ocean. We took a little stop in Carmel for a walk on the beach. Maybe we’d see Clint Eastwood, who spent some time as mayor of this little town.

Clint was nowhere to be seen. We did, however, see a lot of very wealthy and bitter looking people eyeing us suspiciously as we tried to park. The beach was full of Carmel citizens daintily tossing tennis balls to very excited dogs. I think there were more dogs than people. I dreamt momentarily of a dog uprising, culminating in a pile of small and annoying pooches chewing the fingers off hands bearing Rolex watches.

Carmel was quickly behind us as we rocketed into the Bay area. Oakland is an odd place. It bears a strong resemblance to Brooklyn in many ways. We arrived at Mama Buzz pretty early, and found it packed to the rafters with tweaked coffee drinkers. It was pretty loud for a café. A cheerful girl named Alex greeted us behind the bar, and introduced us to Zack, who would be leading the music for the evening.

We set up the PA in front of a large window looking onto a rather dreary street, and settled in for a night of music. First was Addie, who was a singer-songwriter and invited her friends onstage to present a nice complete package. She called her band of friends the Subtracts ( for a sum total of Addie and the Subtracts... I get it!), and they put an earthy twist on her tunes, including some nice banjo playing by a very shy girl named Ray, vocal harmonies by Kate, and some R&B flavored cajon playing by Johnna (sp?).

We went up next. Despite some sound problems, we played a fast and tight show. People seemed pretty into it, but we didn’t make any tips. It looked like a frugal crowd.

Next up was Geoff Baker, who played some cool tunes with some really great rhythm guitar playing. He reminded us a little of our friend Dustin Edge.

As were loading out and talking to everyone, Chris, a guy we met earlier in the evening, asked us for a ride home in return for a free place to stay for the night. After a stop at the grocery store for some bourbon, we stepped into his home to meet his room mates and stay up too late talking and drinking. Around 3:30 we had to shut the night down, as we had a morning show the next day across the bridge.

We curled on the futon, a little drunk, and passed out hard. Morning came all too soon.

Thanks to Mama Buzz for having us, Alex and Zack for helping us get set up, Addie and Geoff for a nice night of music, and Chris and his roomies for their hospitality.

Tomorrow… two bridges, Coffee Adventures, some very remote Highway 1, and “Another Alamo Motel!?”

Day 24 - San Luis Abysmal Weather -or- Shake your Frogs and Peaches

The sound of raindrops on nylon woke me. Blythe was sound asleep with a slow drip steadily wetting her hair. Several things became clear in an instant. One was the irony that we have gotten rain in Vegas, LA, and now the usually dry Atascadero. Second was that our $30 dollar tent was leaking like a Russian submarine. Third was that the seam sealer we had put on the tent was essentially good only for our peace of mind up until we actually got rained on.

We packed out our now wet equipment and rode grouchily into San Luis Obispo, a mere 20 minutes away. Gliding quietly through the small town, gilded with raindrops hanging from each palm and eucalyptus tree, we considered our options. We had 7 hours to kill in the rain. Then after the show we would have to find someplace to stay for the night, also in the rain (according to the weather service).

In minutes we had checked into Homestead Motel. It was run by a highly energetic and indecipherable Indian man. He signed us into our room, threw the key at us, and scampered off. Soon we were settled, cozily doing computer work and flipping channels on cable TV. Blythe was so happy with our decision that she passed right out and slept for four hours.

We were so refreshed after our hours out of the rain that we felt pretty good about going to play a show. We rolled up to the Frog and Peach pub and packed in our simplest acoustic set up. We figured that with the weather and the early time, it would be a pretty low key show.

Hank got us set up with some drinks after we loaded in and had us wait a bit for a crowd to show up. We sat and talked with a local musician, Dan of Ashes to Light. Soon some people started showing up so we stood from our barstools to play. We were surprised to find that much of the place reacted instantly. Also, with the windows to the street open, we caught the eye of many passers-by. It was a pretty hot show. We ended at 9:30 on the dot to give Triple Threat, the next band, a chance to set up.

People threw tips in our jar and bought some t-shirts. This was a good night. We sat and talked some more with Dan, as well as Nick and Megan, and BJ and Renee. BJ even offered us a gig to play at his girlfriend’s birthday party. Too bad we’ll be elsewhere. We’ve got to come back to this place, people really responded.

Triple Threat started up and got the crowd rolling right away with some hot classic rock covers. A large party of forty-something pirates drunkenly stumbled in and started tearing the place apart. This was our cue to leave. We said goodbye to everyone and sidled on back to our comfy little motel room. We had some grocery store fried chicken and watched a documentary on weed, all from the comfort of our sagging motel mattress.

Blythe was so pleased with our show that she went right to sleep. I stayed up a bit typing on the computer, but finally succumbed to the four Jameson and sodas I’d had and dozed off.

Thanks to the Frog and Peach for having us, Hank for booking us and getting us set up. Thanks to Dan, Nick and Megan, and BJ and Renee for their interest.

Tomorrow… Carmel (will we see Clint?), Oakland, Mama Buzz, and the desperate search for a place to stay that can get us to SF by 10 am the next morning.