The Galt Line Beer and Sausages Tour Day 6

Leaving “Las” Raleigh, or “Detroit Rock” Johnson City

We just plain had to do it. We left our motel room and hit the road. However, leaving behind these creature comforts was no great tragedy. Five shows with the Bloodroots Barter awaited us, and we were sure that these were going to be great shows. The gigs were booked in their territory, at places that they had developed. They were really inviting us in to something that they had cultivated and we were going to play for some new ears.

After a quick oil change, we left Raleigh and hit the highway for Johnson City. The Acoustic Coffeehouse was in our sights, and we were eager to play this familiar spot. Every time we play there, we see new faces and old. There’s always an appreciative crowd, not to mention some great beer.

With a long trip down the highway, and a short detour over some mountains, we found ourselves in the Coffeehouse parking lot. While unloading, Jim, the proprietor of the Acoustic Coffeehouse and professional musician, asked us if he could sit in on bass. Sure! Soon, The Bloodroots folks started showing up. A quick beer together, and a short reunion, and we were off.

We started in with a pretty hot set of about an hour and a half. There were some dancers, and a few hoots and hollers. After some set up, Bloodroots Barter stepped up and blew through two hours pretty fast.

With the music for the night over, it was time to catch up with everyone. We hung around the Acoustic Coffeehouse very late. Finally, after a very long day and many adult beverages, a friend in town, Jorja, offered us a place to sleep. We gratefully accepted, and found ourselves in our sleeping bags in minutes, drifting off to the Tennessee night sounds.

Tomorrow…  Southgate House, and the Cincinnati metro area. 

The Galt Line Beer and Sausages Tour Day 4 and 5

Day Off… and then on again-or- Slim Crowd

We woke at 6:30. Now, this is not the usual time we would stir on a day off, but there was free breakfast to be had. We pulled on some clothes and tip-toed down to the office. The layout was meager, but we piled our Styrofoam plates high with Danishes and English muffins and tiny cups of juice. We snuck out again and ate our breakfast in front of the news.

Before we realized it we were waking up again at 11. Then we did something truly magical, something that only the most intimate of couples can experience. We did nothing. We cracked a bottle of wine, ate ice cream from the convenience store across the street, and dozed in front of movies for the whole day. Blythe ended up sleeping for nearly 7 hours in the middle of the day.

The next day, we had things to do. We prowled to a Costco and had our tires rotated (which took nearly 3 hours). We ate lunch at a generic mid-level restaurant chain and wandered a commercial park while we waited. We mailed off posters and fliers to some remaining events on the tour. We took a short dip in the pool, and then it was time for another show.

Raleigh seems to be a wealthy city. It has wide, swept, and empty streets. There are plenty of expensive and lonely looking bistros and street cafes.

 When we pulled up to Slim’s, we were greeted by 4 blank faces that were turned from the bar. We set up in near silence except for one intoxicated patron who asked us to play some blues and selected Hendrix tunes. We obliged for a $20 tip.

Soon Bullfrog arrived, set up, and whisked out again. He was playing another spot that same evening. After a few beers we launched into our set. There was nearly no reaction except for one very nice guy named Tillson, who said very excitedly that he loved playing rockabilly drums, and would love to play with us some time. After the set, a young woman named Courtney said she liked what we were doing. Other than that… nothing.

Bullfrog returned and enchanted the meager crowd with some fingerpicking blues and hot-jazz favorites, along with a few originals. The crowd seemed to like him quite a bit.

 We weren’t too discouraged by our slow night however, because we had a room waiting for us. In minutes we were back in the soft bed for a final night.

We dozed to Conan O’Brian’s lilting voice, eager for our show at Acoustic Coffeehouse the next day, but reluctant to leave our comfortable little roadside motel room. Oh, the sacrifices we make for our life as musicians on the road.

Tomorrow… Reunion with Bloodroots Barter and a nice show at one our favorite spots.

The Galt Line Beer and Sausages Tour Day 3

CAVE IN!

The Sun streamed through the dusty warehouse windows, dappled by the broad leafed trees growing by the creek bed out back. I woke when a train went by and roared across the ancient rail road bridge that stood behind the building. I quietly packed the gear while Blythe slept, being careful not to disturb Angus, who had curled up on a couch the night before after knocking back a little too much bourbon.

Once we were ready to go, I woke Blythe, who rolled the sleeping bag, and we jumped in the van. We were planning to see Pete one more time at Shenandoah pizza, but thought it better to hit the highway. We had a room waiting for us in Raleigh NC. Since we were going to be in the area for a few days, we treated ourselves to a comfortable motel room, as a reward for our hard work over the summer.

The GPS pointed us down I-81, and we started off. Soon, however, unfamiliar roads began to spring up in the directions. Our GPS has a habit of putting us on strange roads, but we threw caution to the wind and followed the robot off into the hills. A valley stretched out in front of us, our state road lying like a wrinkled ribbon over its floor, clinging to small, rolling, green hills. We sailed, unfettered, on these country roads for two hours, gliding out of Virginia with no effort.

Another country road soon dropped us onto I-40, bringing us swiftly into Raleigh. In moments we were checking into our room, throwing our clothes in the corner, cracking a bottle of wine, and picking apart a baked chicken we got at a local grocery store. We couldn’t get too comfortable though. We had a show in Chapel Hill, about a half our drive to the west.

We piled back into the van, and tried to muster the energy for another show. Chapel Hill is an ultra-clean town, with the feel of all southern college towns. We found a parking spot right in front of the place, and stepped out on the sidewalk to survey our surroundings. The Cave is situated at the bottom of a staircase leading directly from the sidewalk down a narrow alley to a low door. It’s dimly lit with a long wooden bar along one wall.

 We introduced ourselves to the bartender and to Viva La Vox, another one of the bands for the evening.

Phil of Stripmall Ballads arrived while we were setting up. With all the acts there, we were ready to start the music. Unfortunately, for the second night in a row, thunder roared, and the skies opened. The rain certainly kept the crowd small. Phil stepped up and fingerpicked through some folky ballads and told some stories about his time on the road.

We stepped up next and played a pretty straight forward set. We plowed right through and ducked off the stage. Viva La Vox set up and played some great psychobilly and punk flavored roots tunes. We loved it.

When all music was played, we packed out fast. We were eager to get back to our room and waste time for the first time in this summer time. The next day stretched out before us, so we lay our heads on the motel pillow, dreaming of cable TV and 3 dollar wine.

Tomorrow… DAY OFF!  

The Galt Line Beer and Sausages Tour Day 2

Staunton Vampires Do Not Suck

We stretched and yawned in the cabin. Peering through the window in the loft we could see a rolling field and a blue mountain in the distance. It’s strange to feel your world expand when you see it in daylight. After packing out the sleeping bag, we carefully drove the rutted gravel road to the highway and glided into town.

 A visit to Walmart was in order for clean bathrooms and a little breakfast. Refreshed, we wandered town a little bit before settling in Shenandoah Pizza for a pie and a tall, cold cider. It was perfect.

 We were hoping to run into proprietor and honorary Staunton mayor Johnny Huggins, but we missed him. Instead we saw Sam Stallings, brother of Pete. We caught him on a cigarette break, so we sat in the sun and watched the street together while we caught up.  We were accosted briefly by a girl running for the state legislature. She campaigned to us for a minute and ran off.

Next we posted up in a coffee shop to do a little computer work, post yesterday’s blog, and sip on iced coffees. Pete stopped by and invited us to his apartment to hear the new Secret Ninja EP. We packed up and stopped by Pete’s place. The recordings sounded good. If they post them up, we’ll link all of you good folks to them.

In a short time we found ourselves in Gone Studios, A warehouse space near the train tracks. We were sweeping up cigarette butts and meeting Angus, artist and host for the evening, when a group of five or ten people blew into the room, chattering at top speed and moving tables around. With a few words from Racheal, one young lady helping lead this parade, they left again. Snacks and booze were needed for the evening.

You see, we were not the only act for the evening. We were to share the space with a group of young folks acting in a role playing game. They were playing as a group of aristocratic vampires, meeting for the first time in some castle from antiquity. We were informed that we were playing the part of enchanted mortals, beguiled and charmed to provide entertainment for the night.

The sky opened, and rain began pouring down, complete with thunder.

 Soon vampires appeared from the bathroom, and streamed through the front door. Drinks were poured, and music began with Stuart Joseph McCumsey, who graced us with some energetic and southern fried songwriting material.

 Pete stepped up next and blasted through some tunes.

 Late in the night, we took the stage, and slammed through a short set of songs at full blast. Whiskey bottles and dancing vampires abounded. Then we stumbled off the stage.

The night drew to a close as we bid farewell to the vampires. The rain continued to fall. We stretched out our bed on the cold warehouse floor and drifted off.

Tomorrow…  Virginia’s forgotten highways, Yancyeville, Our home for 3 days, and Viva la Vox

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.