tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6500383078148685922024-03-18T15:04:09.760-04:00Notes From All Underjbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.comBlogger489125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-32890576201290951622024-03-17T13:27:00.338-04:002024-03-18T15:03:25.233-04:00Phil Birthday With Guests, part 2<p>Hadn't had much more to drink on Friday than I normally do, but it had been a long, stressful day and, not surprisingly, was followed by a really bad night's sleep on a small bed with a noisy HVAC system. The Hampton Inn breakfast was disappointing too, but whatever! We played a board game to pass the time, and then went out for a walk on a warm, sunny, late-Winter day.</p><p>We went back to the Tarrytown Lakes Park, where we'd had a great walk a few years ago, and had another great walk. It was a lovely day and, though the parking lot was pretty full and there were several people on the easy trail, we then went into the woods and saw no one for the next couple of hours. The trees and vines were starting to bud and the winding trails led to some curious old stone structures and some huge old trees. We saw five deer on that walk, though Tarrytown is an old, thoroughly settled, almost urban town, and the immensely busy Tappan Zee Bridge is not that far away. No soccer ball out on the field for us to kick around this time, but a just-right walk in the woods for the late morning of an otherwise exhausting weekend.</p><p>From there we drifted down the hill into crowded downtown Tarrytown, finally found a parking space, and went back to the Sweet Grass Grill, where we'd had an excellent lunch in 2021. We must have hit it at the right time because we got a table right away, though it was packed soon after that. Had a "Kittens & Canoes" APA and a farmer's salad, and some fun people watching. There were sure lots of them, one guy had a very nice purse, and one woman was wearing so many jewels she was bent over. There were lots of touristy-types too.</p><p>Back to the hotel for a nap, another board game, and a little TV. Dave downloaded a pretty good audience recording of the previous night's concert. And then we were off for Port Chester again! Kiosko was much more crowded and much more noisy tonight (someone was apparently playing a medley of greatest Mexican tuba hits on the jukebox). But we had another fine meal and then waited through a short line and quick search at the Cap. This time we'd gotten seats in the the fourth row of the balcony, but over more to the right.</p><p>Geez, it sure looked like the same setup as the night before, but then we noticed a few tweaks. There was another guitar amp between Grahame's and Amy's stations, and instead of Gordon's bass tower to Phil's left there was another single guitar amp over there. And in the back was something that might have been a guitar holder, or maybe a percussion station. Anyway, the crowd was much more delayed than it had been on Friday night, but soon everyone came rushing in (it was another sellout) and soon after that the same band came out on stage, tuned up lazily, then lit into the first set.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Dire Wolf</li><li>Cumberland Blues</li><li>Cold Rain and Snow</li><li>When I Paint My Masterpiece</li><li>Candyman</li><li>Jack Straw</li></ul><p></p><p>What a great start to the might, with Donato doing a squeaky, bouncy Dire Wolf, followed by a masterful, Phil-powered Cumberland. And then one of my favorite-ever songs, CR&S, though Phil turned in a bit of a confused vocal. Amy was up next and made up for it on Masterpiece with a sly, Dylan-esque take. Then it was Daniel's turn again to channel Jerry with a beautiful, perfectly timed Candyman. And the ensemble then knocked us all over with the Jack Straw of death, that featured a long entrance, apocalyptic bombs from Phil, and wave after wave of powerful group vocals.</p><p>Phil again promised a different format for the second set, but we weren't fooled this time when the same band came out. Daniel started it off again with:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Loser</li><li>Not Fade Away</li><li>Dark Star</li><li>Morning Dew</li><li>Samson and Delilah</li><li>Uncle John's Band</li></ul><p></p><p>Donato got a little confused on the first couple of choruses of Loser, but all in all was just so impressive. As I say, perhaps he was a little too Garcia-esque at times, but he was successful in interpreting Garcia while showcasing his own strengths as a musician. I've got to listen to more of his stuff.</p><p>The guys scratched their asses after that, but then Molo took over and pounded out a raucous introduction to NFA, which sure got the crowd going. Some setlists have NFA > Dark Star (instrumental) > NFA > Dark Star (second verse), but that's not the way we heard it. There were some Dark Star teases during NFA, but nothing concerted until they really ended the Buddy Holly stuff and started spacing out. We were a little surprised that they just sang the second verse of the song, but this may have just been Phil being forgetful.</p><p>Anyway, they went deep into space there and then eventually calmed down, leaving us all on a distant moon. Phil started looking serious now, and you knew what was coming, and then he and Grahame started on that awesome, thundering introduction. Then Amy slid up to the mike and started asking delicately if someone could take her out in the Morning Dew, and Grahame told her that no, it was too late.</p><p>Wow, that was a great one, and after Donato did a long guitar crescendo and the song would normally come to an end, Grahame and Amy went back into the chorus and did a beautiful, descending duet coda. OK, it was time for Molo to start pounding again, Daniel stepped up for another fun vocal, and we all rocked to an excellent, fast Samson. As I say, they were doing the Bobby repertoire without him being there. Then it was time for a great, set-closing UJB, with sparkling ensemble vocals.</p><p>Phil was sitting down by that point, and starting to look and act a little cranky, but now it was time for the fun to really begin! He mumbled something in the mike again (actually, he probably said something coherent, but the crowd was cheering too much for us to hear him), and the boffins starting moving things around. Didn't take long for me to realize that they were swapping out drums in Molo's kit, and then they rigged a vocal mike up over that that looked just like ... it was!</p><p>It was Joe Russo's setup and he came out on stage, and then there was Tommy Hamilton, and there was Marco Benevento, and there was Scott Metzger! Yes, it was PhilRAD all over again!! When we were trading wild guesses at who would guest with Phil, I'd mentioned JRAD, but never really thought that we'd get the whole enchilada (excepting Dave Dreiwitz that is). What would they play?? Well, Scott stepped up and started us off at the top of the heap and they just went up from there, "Truckin', got my chips cashed in." Geez, as good as Phil's band had been, these guys could blow away anybody. No wonder Bobby stayed away. And then they followed up Truckin' with Touch Of Grey, masterfully sung by Tommy of course.</p><p>Phil was beaming, who wouldn't be? He did a classic Donor Rap, while they swapped drums back to make it Molo's kit again. Joe moved over to what was now revealed as a percussion stand (he played the congas with sticks), Jason came out and sat in front of the baby grand while Marco moved over to the B3 (they were sitting close and made a cute couple), Amy came back and shared the mike with Tommy, and Daniel came back out at far right and yukked it up with Scott. Phil finished his rap, and they all lit into GDTRFB with everyone in the theatre singing along. Toward the end of this, Tommy ripped off a great lead, Daniel responded with an even better lead, and then Scott topped them with a lead of his own! This was really exciting.</p><p>Phil had a plan for ending it of course, and got Molo pounding away at the NFA beat. But then he quieted down all of a sudden and Phil led us all in a long, closing chorus with a neat little final ending. What a show! They all unplugged with more or less difficulty and gathered at center stage for a huge group bow, with audience members throwing roses at their feet. Someone picked one up and handed it to Phil. He was dog-tired but still beaming, and gave the rose a sniff before handing it to his roadie, who took him by the elbow and led him off stage, lighting the path with his flashlight. Goodbye, old man, hope to see you again!</p><p>Sat down for some final swigs at the water bottle and then made it outside and back up the street to the car, under a beautiful quarter moon. Will we return to the Cap? You never know, but this was not just a tiring weekend for Phil, it was two days of incredible fun for me, but exhausting!</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-14031683394746472462024-03-16T11:24:00.001-04:002024-03-18T12:55:26.958-04:00Phil Birthday With Guests, part 1<p>Good ol' Phil Lesh might have quit coming out to the Capitol Theatre after his 100th show there last year, but he shows no sign of quitting, even at 84 years old. He announced another birthday run of five shows a few months ago, and that "the Q" (Barraco, Haynes, Herring, and Molo) would be doing the first two shows. We got tickets to the last two without knowing who would be playing with him. He eventually announced the band for the third show of the stand (Jason Crosby, Amy Helm, son Grahame, John Molo, and Eric Krasno). And they finally announced that the lineup for the last two shows would include special guests and would be revealed when the musicians took the stage.</p><p>Well, that led to a lot of speculation, as you might imagine. There were rumors that Bob Weir would show up, as a member of his staff was reported seen in Port Chester that week. We also thought that perhaps Jorma Kaukonen would guest, as he's played with Phil in the past. And Emmylou Harris is playing the Cap next week (though that would be a very odd pairing)!</p><p>Anyway, we loaded up the usual sandwiches, juice, water, etc. and headed down South on a partly sunny day, after picking up Dave in Quincy. This time we were going to try the Hampton Inn in Elmsford, on our continuing quest for a hotel that ticked all the boxes. This one wasn't it. Though we had a nice, quiet 5th-floor room looking out on the forested hill to the South of the hotel rather than out onto the highway, the beds were small, the breakfast wasn't up to par, and the hotel is on such a precipitous hill, it was alarming! Oh well, it was fine.</p><p>We took the Parkways all the way down to 287, once we got South of Hartford, thinking they'd be less stressful than 95. They weren't. A semi truck-trailer was actually trying to get onto the Wilbur Cross at one entrance and we managed to get past him. I hope he stopped, because if he got onto the Parkway (illegally) he would have gotten stuck under a bridge. Later, in a pack doing 80 on the Merritt, a big pickup going even faster danced left and right through everyone, and then a huge unmarked SUV turned on its lights and took off after him. And when we only had a few more miles to go on the Hutchinson, we noticed that the opposite side was deserted, and we suddenly ran smack into a traffic backup on our side, which involved standing on the brakes. As it turned out, the backup on our side was just rubber-neckers. On the opposite side a garbage truck(!) was sprawled across the Parkway, turned over on its side. There was barely enough room for one car at a time to edge up onto the median and squeeze itself between the truck and the guardrail. Wailing ambulances were trying to get to the truck through the thick traffic backup, which already stretched for the few miles to 287. This was not a relaxing drive.</p><p>But ... finally made it to the hotel, unpacked, played a little cribbage in their breakfast room, and then took off for Port Chester, very excited about what band we might be seeing. We had a nice dinner at a quiet Kiosko (no one was playing the jukebox, there were very few people there), and then waited in a pretty long line to get into the Cap as they searched everyone pretty thoroughly.</p><p>Getting tickets had been tough, and for that Friday we were way up in the balcony, third row from the top, though well centered. The stage setup revealed nothing (no Beam!), and seemed to indicate that the band would include Crosby and Grahame, some guitarist who played a blue strat, and somebody with a tower for an amp. They came out on time and we were at first a bit disappointed that, as we had scoped out, it was Crosby, Grahame, Amy, and Molo ... and the guest guitarist turned out to be Daniel Donato (that had been rumored also).</p><p>Well, as it turns out this band was excellent and we were not at all disappointed! Both Jason Crosby and Amy Helm were outstanding in the stream on Wednesday, and they were in top form (Amy just stuck to vocals) on that Friday night. Grahame and Molo were as good as ever, they play so well with Phil. And we'd never seen the young Daniel Donato, though he's been popping up everywhere lately, and he played some fantastic guitar and sang some great leads in his squeaky tenor. Perhaps he even sounded too much like Jerry at times!</p><p>And of course, the guy we wanted to see was Phil, and he was in top form too. He has a comfy office chair on stage with him these days and at times he looked tired and needed to take a seat in it. But his playing was as deep, rich, multi-faceted, and inventive as ever. He sang a few verses and contributed to the choruses, but his voice was not quite as powerful and nimble as in the past. But not bad for an 84-year old!</p><p>Here's the setlist:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Cosmic Charlie</li><li>They Love Each Other</li><li>Friend of the Devil</li><li>Bird Song</li><li>Jack-A-Roe</li><li>Brokedown Palace</li></ul><p></p><p>Woo, we were right back in the Phil Zone with the opening notes of Cosmic Charlie, paddling that paper canoe! Amy contributed a great lead vocal to TLEO, and Donato instantly impressed, leading a space brigade on Bird Song. He has a way of dropping his left arm and curling his hand around the fretboard so it almost looks like a snake. He was also great on vocals, perhaps an acquired taste but instantly likable for us, with a very touching take on Jack-a-Roe. And Brokedown was beautifully sung by Grahame with backing from Amy; that vocal pair is always worth the price of admission.</p><p>And the fun thing was that there was a young, awestruck boy, in the wings, and then out on stage at the set break being shown all the equipment and eagerly asking questions about it. Took only a second to realize that this was Phil's grandson, Levon, whom we'd last seen at the Cap as a toddler in October 2015. Kids grow up fast, and it may not be too long before he's playing music for us.</p><p>Phil had stepped to the mike at the end of the first set and promised a "different format" for the second set, but the setup didn't look any different when they reappeared after an average set break, and the same guys took the stage. But again, this band did not disappoint:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Promised Land</li><li>Box of Rain</li><li>Viola Lee Blues</li><li>Bertha</li><li>Viola Lee Blues</li><li>Eyes of the World</li></ul><p></p><p>They started off right with a rocking vocal from Donato on Promised Land, Grahame chiming in with the Tidewater 4-1009 ending. And we were delighted to once more have the good fortune of seeing Phil sing Box Of Rain. They really took the song to the outer limits also. It didn't take Donato long to realize that there was another excellent, young guitarist on stage, and they were throwing leads and fans back and forth. Then Phil came back in with the powerful last verse. Viola was an all-sing from the band, with Donato doing another classic Dead rocker in the middle. And then it was Amy's turn again with an excellent vocal on Eyes.</p><p>Well, what was this crap about a different format? Phil stepped to the mike again and said that they were going to take a short break and then bring out the guests. The break wasn't as short as we might have hoped, and the only change they made was to unveil the towering amp to his left. But then Phil came out with Capitol Theatre impresario Pete Shapiro, who introduced two special guests: young Levon and Mike Gordon(!), carrying an awesome birthday cake that Levon couldn't take his eyes off of. We all sang Happy Birthday and then Gordon strapped on the bass. Pretty good guest!</p><p>Here's their "encore" set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Estimated Prophet</li><li>Let It Grow</li><li>Sugar Magnolia</li></ul><p></p><p>Wow, this was such a great bass sound! Phil and Mike did not step on each others' feet at all, and at the same time, neither sat back. They both played fast and all out, jumping around their fretboards like there was no tomorrow, and managing to sound like they'd been playing together for years. And they played three Bobby songs! My theory is that Bobby was going to show up and then didn't, so they had to steal his repertoire.</p><p>After a great Estimated (Amy contributed a wonderful backing vocal) and then a strong Let It Grow, they broke into Sugar Mags and we anticipated another strong vocal from Grahame, whom we've seen sing this many times. But Mike stepped up and sang the piss out of that classic song while not missing a beat on bass, what a surprise!</p><p>They did a group bow and Phil wandered off stage after that, as we sat back down and finished off our water bottles. As is often the case, the crowd at the Cap was mostly Phil fanatics, featured very few "chompers," and filed out pretty quickly. Another fine show in Port Chester, and not too cold a night as we walked back up Westchester Ave. to the car, and then drove back to Elmsford. Got to bed after a sandwich and orange juice nightcap, probably around 1:00.</p><p> </p><p><br /></p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-37934953781862497962024-01-05T15:13:00.003-05:002024-01-05T15:13:38.810-05:00Lost Kittie<p> Litter box is spinning, turds are swinging to and fro</p><p>Oh, where is the mouse toy, oh where's the spoon?</p><p>You're a lost kittie, been too long asleep</p><p><br /></p><p>Some days the cats are howling, sometimes the water dish is still as glass</p><p>Oh, fill the kibbles, oh lash the mast</p><p>You're a lost kittie, you've been too long asleep</p><p>Now the chipmunks beckon, there's a price for being free</p><p><br /></p><p>There's a blue jay crying, and there's a ghost wind blowing</p><p>And it's calling to you, to that misty swirling shower drain</p><p>Till the chains of your dreams are broken,</p><p>No place in this cardboard box you can be</p><p><br /></p><p>You're a lost kittie, been too long asleep</p><p>Now the chipmunks beckon, there's a price for being free</p><p><br /></p><p>You pay for being free, I'll tell ya kittie walks don't come easy</p><p>Free don't always come for free</p><p>Sometimes it's hard to know what Jon and Sarah are doing</p><p><br /></p><p>Where to go, why to go, what the fuck, time for a nap</p><p>That means you're drifting, sleeping</p><p>Yeah drifting and dreaming, really going on a dream now</p><p>Really going on a feeling...</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-52009538180502689482023-12-27T11:18:00.000-05:002023-12-27T11:18:00.293-05:00Christmas At Sea<p><b> Robert Louis Stevenson, 1888</b></p><p><br /></p><p>Christmas at Sea</p><p><br /></p><p>The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;</p><p>The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;</p><p>The wind was a nor'wester, blowing squally off the sea;</p><p>And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.</p><p><br /></p><p>They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;</p><p>But 'twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.</p><p>We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,</p><p>And we gave her the maintops'l, and stood by to go about.</p><p><br /></p><p>All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;</p><p>All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;</p><p>All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,</p><p>For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.</p><p><br /></p><p>We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;</p><p>But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard:</p><p>So's we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,</p><p>And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.</p><p><br /></p><p>The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;</p><p>The good red fires were burning bright in every 'long-shore home;</p><p>The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;</p><p>And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.</p><p><br /></p><p>The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;</p><p>For it's just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)</p><p>This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,</p><p>And the house above the coastguard's was the house where I was born.</p><p><br /></p><p>O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,</p><p>My mother's silver spectacles, my father's silver hair;</p><p>And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,</p><p>Go dancing round the china-plates that stand upon the shelves.</p><p><br /></p><p>And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,</p><p>Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;</p><p>And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,</p><p>To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.</p><p><br /></p><p>They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.</p><p>"All hands to loose topgallant sails," I heard the captain call.</p><p>"By the Lord, she'll never stand it," our first mate Jackson, cried.</p><p>..."It's the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson," he replied.</p><p><br /></p><p>She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,</p><p>And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.</p><p>As the winter's day was ending, in the entry of the night,</p><p>We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.</p><p><br /></p><p>And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,</p><p>As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;</p><p>But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,</p><p>Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-48880865004787923532023-12-18T10:07:00.001-05:002023-12-18T10:07:54.226-05:00Me & My Kitties<p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"> (with apologies to John Philips)</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Me and my kitties went riding down</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">South Hudson Valley, West New York bound</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">We stopped over in Ithacay</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">That being the point just about halfway</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">And you know it was the hottest part of the day</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">I took the horses up to the stall</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Went to the bar-room, ordered drinks for all</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Three days in the saddle, you know my body hurt</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">It being summer, I took off my shirt</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">And I tried to wash off some of that dusty dirt</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">West New York doggies, they's all around</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">With kibbles and money, they're loaded down</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">So soon after pay day, you know it seemed a shame</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">You know my kitties, they start a friendly game</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">High-Low Jacks and the winner take the hand</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">My kitties start winning, doggies got sore</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">One of them called them, and then two more</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Accused them of cheating, well no it couldn't be</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">I know my kitties, they’re as honest as me</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">And I'm as honest as a Sedgwick man can be</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">One of them doggies, he starts to growl</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Hilo jumped right up, smacked him in the jowls</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Kona clawed another, never seen her so bold</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Kitties grabbed the kibbles, and I grabbed the gold</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">And we high-tailed it down to Mexico</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Now I love those doggies, God rest their soul</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">I love my kitties, but they don’t care for gold</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">They taught me good, Lord, taught me all I know</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">Taught me so well, I pitched that gold</span></p><p><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: x-small;">And we chowed down on kibbles by the side of the road</span></p><div><br /></div>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-14662127443680254642023-11-18T10:16:00.112-05:002023-11-21T10:53:08.435-05:00Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway Go Back To SchoolMolly Tuttle announced another tour and we were in! The good news was that she was playing the Berklee Performance Center on November 17th, back at her old school. But the bad news was that, though tickets for most of the tour were announced, the BPC was not selling tickets until we weren't looking, apparently. I checked regularly, but when they finally were available to the general public, the best we could get was second balcony. Oh well, it's a great venue anyway and we've seen them up close.<div><br /></div><div>Met Dave at Bukowski's in the middle of the construction zone that that part of the city is becoming. What is going on that there's so much construction in Boston and no affordable housing? We had a beer there and then a nice dinner across the "street" over at Dillon's, and then wandered around the area for a bit before descending on the BPC, along with the (mostly older) crowd.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jobi Riccio opened and entertained with a great set of originals, including one called Green Flash that I really liked. Then Molly and band came on and tore the house down. She was in cowboy boots, shoulder-length brown hair, and a wide-brimmed hat, looking a bit like Jesse from Toy Story (she discarded the hat after a few songs). But the long set they played was totally serious bluegrass and just fantastic. In my mind I was comparing it with some of the best bluegrass concerts I've seen, like Hot Rise at the Somerville Theater or Laurie Lewis at the hall in Lexington.</div><div><br /></div><div>Can't believe the whole setlist hasn't been posted, but here's what I remember:</div><div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Next Rodeo</li><li>El Dorado</li><li>Down Home Dispensary</li><li>Over the Line</li><li>Yosemite</li><li>Dooley's Farm</li><li>Stranger Things</li><li>Alice in the Bluegrass</li><li>White Rabbit</li><li>Castilleja</li><li>The First Time I Fell In Love</li><li>Sleepy-Eyed John</li><li>Crooked Tree</li></ul></div></div><div>And there were definitely some other songs I can't remember. This just blew us away. El Dorado is such an excellent song it's not fair, and her finger picking is so fast, so ringing, and of such quality. And she was not shy about directing her excellent band, including having Bronwyn do a fiddle tune she'd written and doing a duet with Dominick.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the amazing thing was that they crept closer and closer and then let 'er rip with an incredible psycho-bluegrass interlude in the middle of the set, including Alice In the Bluegrass into a move-the-earth, explosive performance of White Rabbit, and an extended jam into Castilleja.</div><div><br /></div><div>They came back to earth finally and went back to the source with Sleepy-Eyed John. Molly sprinkled in many references to going to school and living in Boston throughout, and then she introduced the last song of the set with adages about being true to yourself. What the hell, she took off her wig to great applause and sang to us all about being a Crooked Tree. What a set of great songs and some exquisite bluegrass!</div><div><br /></div><div>Most of us thought that was the end of the show and were getting ready to leave, but some people noticed they were setting up a ribbon mike. And Molly and crew came back out and played the fantastic Take the Journey, which IMO features some unparalleled guitar playing. We saw her do this up close at the Bull Run and it was just as amazing from the second balcony of the BPC. Her right hand technique on this is like she's playing a banjo, a cello, and a mandolin all at once.</div><div><br /></div><div>Molly brought out Jobi for the closer, a sing-along of Dylan's You Ain't Goin' Nowhere, which meant there were 4 ex-Berklee people on stage, though only Bronwyn had graduated. Kyle told us all that he expected quality crowd participation from the BPC, and we all tried to oblige.</div><div><br /></div><div>Fantastic show and I can't wait to see this band again., they should not be missed.</div>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-15460370970739109082023-10-22T14:48:00.194-04:002023-11-07T10:30:08.580-05:00Billy & the Kids in Port Chester, part 2<p> A very windy and rainy night led to a cold morning, and naturally I hadn't gotten a good night's sleep. But it was a great morning anyway and we had room enough to set up a game of Trains after "breakfast." The forecast was for the day to clear up and it really did clear up nicely, though a chilly wind from the Northwest continued.</p><p>We debated our options and then drove down to the <a href="https://theboatyardbbq.com/" target="_blank">Boat Yard BBQ and Grill</a> for a nice lunch. From there we continued down to <a href="https://www.ctvisit.com/listings/cove-island-park" target="_blank">Cove Island Park</a> on the Sound, as far West as you can go in Stamford. Stamford is such a strange city, with a crazy mix of huge office buildings, train infrastructure, private homes, exclusive marinas, and some public spaces. We found this park very nice and had a great walk on the low-tide beach and around a few rocky points. One can imagine that in the Summer this place would be mobbed.</p><p>Back to the hotel for another Parks game and a short nap, and then it was time to saddle up for Port Chester again. Another fine meal at Kiosko, which was about as crowded as it gets. Again, was this the last time we'd be eating there? Could this be the last time? Maybe, I don't know.</p><p>Up into the balcony at the Cap and we were a bit to the left and one row back from where we were on Friday, not bad at all. Though Friday may not have been sold out, Saturday sure was and the crowd was very late arriving and then filled in with a vengeance. The band was set up exactly the same, and they came out a little late to let the crowd settle in. Here's the first set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Join Together</li><li>Help on the Way</li><li>Slipknot!</li><li>Franklin's Tower</li><li>Peggy-O</li><li>Brown-Eyed Women</li><li>Baby Don't You Do It</li><li>Sugaree</li><li>It Hurts Me Too</li><li>The Last Time</li></ul><p></p><p>I had called three songs on Friday, and Dave called the Help/Slip/Frank's trio on Saturday, after they opened with another great The Who song. They did nice covers of Peggy-O and BEW before surprising us with Don't Do It. Who knows how much should be credited to Billy for Sugaree (or The Wheel), as he was in the room and part of the creative process with Garcia and Hunter when it was put together? Then Brad followed with another eclectic vocal on Hurts Me Too, and they closed with yet another Stones song, similar to how the long first set had been structured the night before.</p><p>Set break, and I tried to time my last bathroom trip well, but this was a remarkably short break (20 minutes?) and they'd already gone into Drums by the time I got back to the seats. Here's their last set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Drums</li><li>Space</li><li>Morning Dew</li><li>Uncle John's Band</li><li>The Wheel</li><li>Crazy Fingers</li><li>Cassidy</li><li>Love the One You're With</li><li>I Know You Rider</li></ul><p></p><p>After that they went into an unusual take on Dew, featuring Brad Barr's atmospheric guitar sounds more than the building crescendo we've often heard. This was really great, though perhaps more perfunctory than it could have been. But it was followed by great covers of UJB and then the expected The Wheel, with the expected crowd participation of course.</p><p>They threw us a curve ball next, with a long, spaced out introduction to a weird Crazy Fingers, with Reed singing to a syncopated beat of his own imagination. Again, lots of fun and Reed Mathis can do no wrong in my book! And next up was another song that snuck up on most of the people around us, Tommy covering Steven Still's great Love the One You're With.</p><p>The band finished with a balls-out sing-along of I Know You Rider, and the clapping did not stop. They focused the lights on Billy, sitting at his drum set, and he waved and waved to us all, then got up and did his old man walk to the wings. I'd seen Billy sneak a toke or two behind his drums earlier, but when he came back out he had an obvious doobie with him, and he puffed and puffed on it, while grinning at the crowd before the encore. People went nuts.</p><p>They opened the encore with a lovely Brokedown Palace. Tommy, Reed, and Brad had been singing well together at times all weekend, but on this the harmonies shone. If they practice a bit they could get really good! And then they closed with Touch, which was a) a great sing-along again, b) a tribute to Billy the old guy on perhaps the last time we'll see him live, and c) perhaps a tribute to <a href="https://news.pollstar.com/2023/08/29/james-casey-saxophonist-for-trey-anastasio-band-dies-at-40/" target="_blank">James Casey</a>, the recently deceased musician and band-mate of Billy's, whom we'd seen sing this song at that same theater.</p><p>Loud applause and the minions told Billy that he had to get the band together for a bow, which he obviously thought was a little corny. Yes it is Billy, but it's expected and brought a smile to everyone's face. Bye bye!</p><p>Waited a bit in the seats again. Not quite as good a show as Friday's but whatever, it was still great. Pushed our way out past wandering people and then up Westchester Avenue to the lot behind Kiosko. Will we be back there again? Maybe! Easy drive back to Stamford this night and then up to our large room and soon to bed. </p><p><br /></p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-77365764444261284122023-10-21T12:24:00.003-04:002023-10-27T14:54:07.007-04:00Billy & the Kids in Port Chester, part 1As mentioned, Bill Kreutzmann was not healthy enough to participate in the Dead & Company tour this past Summer, and that was a real loss. But of course I'm all in favor of him taking his foot off the pedal when he needs to, and Jay Lane was a great substitute. Billy has played a few shows since then, and we were very psyched when he announced a couple of shows in Port Chester, October 20 and 21, and even more so that it would be with his "Kids" band.<div><br /></div><div>We'd seen Tommy Hamilton often with JRAD, but had only seen Reed Mathis a couple of times (and loved him <a href="https://jbxpro.blogspot.com/2015/07/golden-gate-wingmen-at-bmh.html" target="_blank">both</a> <a href="https://jbxpro.blogspot.com/2016/08/ggw-at-bmh-one-more-time_14.html" target="_blank">times</a>), and never seen Aron Magner live, though we've been impressed with him on video. And they announced that the Barr Brothers would play too, and we had never heard of them. Wikipedia told us that Brad and Andrew Barr had an "indie-folk" band based out of Montreal. I had no idea that Montreal was near Hawaii, but whatever.</div><div><br /></div><div>Picked up Dave in Quincy on a beautiful Fall day and had a relatively nice drive down to the Amsterdam Hotel in Stamford CT. The colors were popping when we started, but the day became overcast as we got into the Deep South of New England, and rain showers started up. And the traffic was about normal, which meant that it was brutal. We got stuck in a series of backups starting in New Haven, but made it to Stamford finally. We'd stayed in the [Great] Amsterdam Hotel before and weren't too impressed, but we decided to give it another shot. Our large 5th-floor room was entirely acceptable and though the place had some faults, like a shitty breakfast and clunky elevators, it gets good marks.</div><div><br /></div><div>Had time for a game of Parks and a few beers when we arrived, then jumped back into the mess on the Turnpike and crawled over to Port Chester, where we had a nice meal at <a href="https://kioskorestaurant.com/" target="_blank">Kiosko</a> (though both the salsa music and the TV were blaring). Strolled down to the theater after that and settled down in our center balcony seats, a few rows up.</div><div><br /></div><div>The band was set up nicely, with Magner and Hamilton on the required Oriental carpet off to the left (looking at the stage), Andrew Barr's and then Billy's drum kits at center stage, and then Mathis and Brad Barr on another carpet to the right. They came out soon after the announced showtime of 8:00 and were excellent! Here's the first set:</div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Kids Are Alright</li><li>St. Stephen</li><li>Eyes Of the World</li><li>She Belongs To Me</li><li>Beat It On Down the Line</li><li>Mama Tried</li><li>Jack Straw</li><li>Row Jimmy</li><li>Let's Spend the Night Together</li></ul></div><div>Where do I start? Magner had an extensive keyboards setup (7 of them as I recall) and did some great stuff all weekend long. He wasn't quite mixed right to start but they soon corrected this. He's a bit of a dramatic player but he has the chops to back it up and was delightfully tasteful and a great band member.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tommy was on his white guitar with the rainbow sticker, and he sure knows how to play that thing. He took the role of band leader, introducing the guys, playing the rhythm (as well as many leads), and letting Brad or Andrew know when it was their turn to take over the song.</div><div><br /></div><div>Andrew was a great complementary player on drums. Though he had a trap kit and pounded out a forceful "Mickey" part on the tom-toms when he and Billy went crazy, he also had lots of effects, shakers, and weird things to whack on the quieter songs.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was really eager to see Reed Mathis again, and he did not disappoint. He had knocked me over with his Dylan covers when I'd seen him before and this time did several at perhaps an even higher level. When done properly, Dylan's songs are incredibly emotional and Reed is an emotional singer and amazingly colorful bassist, though he played it straight and did not feature the effects and filters we'd seen from him before.</div><div><br /></div><div>Brad Barr was phenomenal. His mike wasn't working at some key times and he forgot a lot of words (as did Tommy of course), but he got the key ones in there. And screw the words, his reason for being on the stage was his guitar and his incredible range of filters. They should have given him a console, he spent a third of his time huddled over his vast array of knobs and pedals. Again, the word is tasteful. He could go from ethereal to raunchy to countrified to acidified, and back to ethereal in one song, though it took a lot of twisting of knobs to do it.</div><div><br /></div><div>And the old guy was as good as ever. All the times I'd seen Billy before this he'd been upstaged, literally and figuratively, by guys like ... oh, Garcia or Weir or Lesh, etc. But the view from the Capitol balcony is so great and the sound is so pure, and they had him lit and miked so well, that just watching and listening to Billy was remarkably similar to watching Phil on that same stage (and in almost the exact same spot) while a great band raged around him. Billy has an effortless style and doesn't favor any of his drums or cymbals, he's a democratic and remarkably smooth player and seems to be enjoying himself completely on every song he plays. I was really glad to get this up-close-and-personal weekend with him.</div><div><br /></div><div>And what a setlist! We'd seen Willie Nelson recently and he played a great setlist, covering everybody. On this occasion, Billy covered some greats too. He opened with a The Who song, and also covered Dylan, Jesse Fuller, Haggard, Jagger/Richards, Clapton, Dozier/Holland, and of course lots of Garcia/Hunter/Kreutzmann. I was in heaven seeing Reed sing She Belongs To Me ("for Halloween give her a trumpet") and their cover of Row Jimmy was incredible. A surprising St. Stephen, a beautiful Eyes, Reed again on Mama Tried ... that set went on and on and was delightful. Again, though it's such a hassle to get down to Port Chester, that first set alone made up for it.</div><div><br /></div><div>Average length set break and perhaps one of my last trips ever to the Cap's beyond-funky bathrooms. One guy complained at the cramped urinal setup and everybody told him he should see the ones downstairs! Got a Dogfish Head for me and a strong g&t for Sarah and then back to our excellent seats. Pete Shapiro came out and feted the Cap's head usher, Brian Lynch, for his 1000th show (though the balloons they rigged up were ambiguous). He then gave Billy a bowling trophy too, or tried to at least.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, here's the second set:</div><div><br /></div><div><div>Drums</div><div>Space</div><div>Scarlet Begonias</div><div>Friend of the Devil</div><div>Ramble On Rose</div><div>A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall</div><div>Fire on the Mountain</div></div><div><br /></div><div>This set was perhaps a little shorter. Billy seemed a bit tired towards the end and huddled with band leader Tommy before they cut it a bit short. Pace yourself, Billy! But they sure kept up the quality. They opened with a Drums/Space segment as Billy often does with his band, and then did some of the greatest Garcia/Hunter songs.</div><div><br /></div><div>But the song of the set was Reed letting it all hang out on one of Dylan's best songs. As seems to be the case more and more often, one wonders if the world is falling apart, and the brutality and violence going on right now in the Middle East, in Ukraine, and right in our back yards is devastating. Reed seemed to be singing about all that and everyone in the theater was hanging on his words. This led to a thundering ovation, to which he gave us an "aw shucks." Reed was really great and unassuming too; at times he stood up on the small riser next to Billy so he wouldn't overshadow any of the other guys.</div><div><br /></div><div>Woo, that was quite a concert! But it wasn't done yet. The band came back out and did a great mellow cover of Lay Down Sally, and then a lovely Ripple, sung by Brad Barr. He's quite a musician and besides all his pedals he had a large rack of guitars and used them all. On some songs he played slide on his acoustic, which was an incredible sound. At one point I turned to Dave and said, "If that's 'indie-folk,' sign me up!"</div><div><br /></div><div>Usual confused exit from the Cap after letting the crowd die down a bit, and then a traffic-y journey back to Stamford and our 5th-floor eyrie at the Great Amsterdam. Soon to bed after that!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-22200916652540851572023-09-17T11:45:00.253-04:002023-09-24T13:22:48.127-04:00Outlaw Music 2023 in Mansfield<p>It's been a long Summer of great outdoor concerts, and the capper was the Outlaw Music Festival stopping by the amphitheater in Mansfield MA on one more Saturday night, September 16. The big attraction for us was that the tour this year included Bob Weir & Wolf Bros, as well as Los Lobos, String Cheese Incident, and of course that 90-year old legend, Willie Nelson.</p><p>We had great seats, just to the right of center and about 15 rows back, and the weather was fantastic. We were determined to not spend hours fuming in traffic, though that's hard to avoid at that place. After a morning at Wakefield Subaru we packed sandwiches and concert stuff and headed down there, getting off the highway with no backup but then getting waved *past* the entrance by a mean-faced parking attendant, having to do a U-turn to get back to the venue, and then waiting in a long line to get waved into a crowded spot. They are remarkably inefficient at parking there, and helpful signs are apparently forbidden.</p><p>Anyway, had a nice time eating sandwiches and drinking beer in lawn chairs while the Shakedown Street scene exploded around us. Weir wasn't the headliner, but the Dead shirts outnumbered anything else 99 to 1, and people were selling everything from Jerry idols to beer from coolers. Folded up the lawn chairs and went on in in plenty of time for the opening act, which was scheduled to come on at 4:30. The good thing about Mansfield is that once you get in there it's a nice place, with a good array of vendors around an amphitheater with good sight lines and sound. They also had a nest of weird port-a-potties which were vacuum powered and seemed like Dr. Who monsters. I can imagine someone getting stuck in one and/or vacuumed away.</p><p>The opener was Waylon Payne in a not-quite-a-tenth full arena, and he hadn't been on the bill but was a great start to the evening. He opened with Desperados Waiting For a Train and I commented to Dave that anyone who opened with a Guy Clark song was ok with me. Waylon did a couple of originals and mixed in the classic Ring of Fire and Sunday, which he apparently wrote with Lee Ann Womack. I'd never heard of him but thoroughly enjoyed his set, and he then dropped the fact that he'd be playing guitar with Willie later on. Here's the short setlist:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Desperados Waiting for a Train</li><li>All the Trouble</li><li>Ring of Fire</li><li>Born to Lose</li><li>Sins of the Father</li><li>Nobody's Home On A Sunday</li></ul><p></p><p>Up next was Los Lobos while the crowd really filled in, and they were just fantastic. I've seen them a good number of times and they've often exceeded my expectations, but this set was amazing. They're a good band to get up front for and they all turned in exceptional performances. Perhaps the best that night was Steve Berlin on sax and keyboards, but they all shone, most of all Cesar Rosas on vocals, new drummer Alfredo Ortiz, and of course David Hidalgo on rocking lead guitar. They were joined for a few tunes by Mickey Raphael, Willie's long time harmonica player, and he shone too. They were perhaps the best band of the day, and we were just starting! Here's their setlist:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Dream in Blue</li><li>One Time One Night</li><li>Love Special Delivery</li><li>Evangeline</li><li>Chuco's Cumbia</li><li>Is This All There Is?</li><li>Three Hundred Pounds of Joy (Howling Wolf)</li></ul><p></p><p>OK, next up was The String Cheese Incident, whom I'd never seen live in person and was really looking forward to. Unfortunately, I found their set a bit of a let down. I'd seen them live on video from Lockn' and other big festivals, and had been way impressed with Michael Kang and Bill Nershi. But for this set at least I found them too driven by the loud and simplistic bass lines of Keith Mosely and an over-amplified kick drum. I also had my first experience of rudeness from our neighbors, who were apparently upset with people standing up at a rock concert and decided to take it out on Dave and me. Oh well.</p><p>Anyway, screwed out of there early to be sure to have time to hit the weird bathrooms and get a beer for the Wolf Bros set. We'd seen them once a few years ago when they were just the trio of Weir, Was, and Lane. But this was the whole enchilada, including Jeff Chimenti, Barry Sless on pedal steel, and the entire Wolfpack, their horns and strings section. Here's their setlist:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Hell in a Bucket</li><li>Mama Tried</li><li>Big Boss Man</li><li>Peggy-O</li><li>Althea</li><li>Playing in the Band</li><li>Dark Star</li><li>Cassidy</li><li>Stella Blue</li><li>One More Saturday Night</li></ul><p></p><p>Great jam to start into a totally unexpected but great Bucket. Don Was is solid but kind of a liability to good psychedelic music IMO, and it was strange that their setup had Sless right in the middle, where he played solidly too but did not contribute anything smoking. I've seen him play some great stuff with Phil Lesh and think he might be better on guitar than on steel. And Bobby could use a smoking lead guitar, though even so the band was miles better than when we saw them as just a trio.</p><p>And they had very plus contributions from Chimenti of course, from Mickey Raphael sitting in on Big Boss Man, and from Mads Tolling on fiddle. And what a setlist! Weir was in fine voice and they meandered from PITB into Dark Star, which we had anticipated as a reprise since they had done the first verse the night before. But they were a little confused and did the entire song, while exchanging some quizzical looks. In the middle of it we were interrupted by rude neighbors again. Jeez, stand up and listen to Dark Star or go get stuck in a port-a-pottie until Willie comes on! The set-closer was of course a rocking Saturday Night, and the whole stadium, except for a few rude people, danced and roared.</p><p>OK, time for Willie, and they didn't take long to set up for his act. The stage hands did some crack work all night long, and though it was strange that Los Lobos played earlier than we had expected, I think that was because it was most efficient to go from Waylon to them, the SCI, to WolfBros, to Willie. He was sitting down and had Waylon on another stool at his right, a doghouse bass player, a snare, and Mickey (who's a big guy) off to his left. It was sad that his sister Bobbie had passed away and was not there, he'd been playing with her for probably most of his 90 years.</p><p>And he looked at least 90 years old, but was as magical on stage as ever. Waylon was a fantastic back-up player and filled in excellently when Willie wandered, but his old guitar was as ringing as ever when he focused on it (which was often) and his voice rose above everything else. He gave us that Willie smile a few times too, though you could tell this was a bit of a struggle for an old guy like him. And this was another classic setlist, with songs from Kristofferson, Shaver, Haggard (Payne did an excellent vocal on Workin' Man Blues), Waylon, Bob Wills, and of course, Willie Nelson.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Whiskey River</li><li>Stay All Night</li><li>Still Is Still Moving to Me</li><li>Bloody Mary Morning</li><li>I Never Cared for You</li><li>Workin' Man Blues</li><li>Mammas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys</li><li>Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground</li><li>On the Road Again</li><li>You Were Always on My Mind</li><li>Good Hearted Woman</li><li>Help Me Make It Through the Night</li><li>Roll Me Up and Smoke Me When I Die / Still Not Dead</li><li>Georgia (On My Mind)</li><li>I Been to Georgia on a Fast Train</li><li>Write Your Own Songs</li><li>Move It on Over</li><li>Me and Bobby McGee</li><li>Will the Circle Be Unbroken / I'll Fly Away</li><li>It's Hard to Be Humble</li></ul><p></p><p>Willie had to wipe his face often between songs and seemed tired all through it, though as I say he played excellently and kept up a furious pace. Some of the songs were a bit truncated but he got them all in. And this was fantastic, I loved every second. He was just magical on the tear-jerkers, like Too Close To the Ground, Help Me Make It Through the Night, and of course Georgia. He rocked on the Billie Joe Shaver song, led sing-alongs on Cowboys, Good Hearted Woman, and Roll Me Up and Smoke Me, and his voice got more and more golden as the set went on.</p><p>The player of the evening may have been Raphael, who after his excellent sit-ins with Los Lobos and Weir continued his wonderful playing with Willie. Weir came out to join in on guitar on Will the Circle, and then most of SCI came out for the last song, It's Hard To Be Humble. Willie put down his guitar and threw some bandannas to the crowd on this, and then walked slowly off stage as the others wrapped up the song, secure in his status as a living legend.</p><p>Back at the car we set up the lawn chairs again and waited for the traffic to die down, which it did in about half an hour. There were plenty of remnants of Shakedown Street still there though, including a couple who'd set up their wares in front of our car and told us they just had to sell a few more things before they followed the tour to Queens. Long drive home, but we made it and got right to bed at about 2:00. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-62027330551649907932023-08-13T13:53:00.212-04:002023-08-16T10:03:13.027-04:00Another JRAD Show in Boston<p>JRAD hasn't been touring anywhere near as much as we'd like, but we're really glad that when they do tour, they almost always seem to stop in Boston (and had been in Bangor the week before). They played the waterfront pavilion in Boston on August 12th and we got great tickets and were psyched, though our fingers were crossed that we wouldn't have the bad weather luck we'd had with Phil Lesh back in July.</p><p>Dave had been on vacation in Maine with us, and so we had a fun day of croquet and board games before heading into the city through surprisingly light traffic, down to a parking garage on Drydock Avenue so we could eat dinner at Lord Hobo's Seaport restaurant.</p><p>And what a sight when we walked out of the garage. We were a block away from the cruise ship terminal and the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caribbean_Princess" target="_blank">Caribbean Princess</a> (hailing from Bermuda) was docked there. OMG, I'd never seen boat that big! It towered over us and over the huge office building next to it. We shuddered at the thought of taking a cruise on a ship like that, you'd be surrounded by people, stuffed into an expensive and tiny state room, and expected to enjoy mainstream entertainment. Not for us.</p><p>And speaking of non-mainstream entertainment, we headed up to the Leader Bank Pavilion (current name) after a fine meal at Lord Hobo. There they gave me a brimful cup of Harpoon IPA (well, I had to pay for it) and we had a fine time hanging out on their patio over the harbor while waiting for the show to start. We've got to kayak into the Inner Harbor someday and see the venue from there, though I plan to give a wide berth to the Black Falcon Terminal, especially if they've got one of those monsters docked there.</p><p>Not a bad crowd experience, but this was not like Bangor to say the least. The place was packed and there was Saturday-night-out-to-a-rock-show crowd noise going on around us all through it, as well as lots of people who really weren't paying attention to the music pushing past us to their seats for a few minutes and then back out, and repeat. But the weather stayed great all night and there were also lots of people there who were dancing (the guy in front of us was dancing so hard he almost fell over a few times), smoking good pot (as opposed to Fenway), and raving along. Many people agree with me that this is one of the best bands around.</p><p>The crowd was slow to fill in and the start was a little delayed, but then they straggled out like a good GD band, this time with Dave Dreiwitz back on bass. And he had no problem letting us know of his presence, Dave had taken his vitamins, as well as the other guys on stage. Here's the first set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Stagger Lee</li><li>Only Daddy That'll Walk the Line</li><li>Eyes of the World</li><li>Me and My Uncle</li><li>Mission in the Rain</li><li>Uncle John's Band</li><li>Ophelia</li></ul><p></p><p>We'd talked about them doing Stagger Lee, and here it was! This is such a great, character-driven song and I love that, and Tommy sang it perfectly. His teleprompter was working fine that night. And then they totally reversed again, and Scott riveted us with one of the original, quintessential Outlaw Country songs. Besides growling and singing the hell out of this, he played a space-country lead all through it that had me jumping up and down (figuratively). I was kind of surprised when several people around me were asking, "What's that song??" They claimed to have never heard it before, which I could understand for many people, but not the guys my age.</p><p>Well, toweled off after that and then realized that the long, mellow jam they had started into had taken form and they were playing Eyes. Joe has gotten more and more involved in the singing since we first saw his band back in 2015, and harmony singing has gradually become one of their strengths. He backs up Tommy with a lower line, and Scott joins in with a higher one, a bunch of angels, especially on an uplifting song like Eyes. And then Scott brought us right back out to the country with a rollicking MAMU.</p><p>After that a fantastic Mission In the Rain that many people talked through, a great UJB, and then a tribute to the recently deceased Robbie Robertson with their Levon-esque cover of Ophelia. Again, wow that was a great set.</p><p>Yup, it had been such a great set that I was already kind of worn out. I could have gone home at that point and been satisfied, but there was still another set to go. The crowd was milling about like it was Saturday night at a rock concert, but that's part of the price of admission. Not too long a break though, and then the band came straggling back out.</p><p>Again, I have to gush about Marco, who is just an incredible technical player as well as having a truly warped musical imagination. How he can command those keyboards the way he does is amazing. His standard white t-shirt read, "Dear Earth, thanks for the flowers." And Joe Russo is a talent that everyone should experience. Who doesn't like a good drummer? And besides the energy and dynamism he brings, he's an amazing technical player too, who never misses a beat and who conducts his band with facial expressions, sticking out his tongue(!), and a few hand gestures.</p><p>Here's the second set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>New Speedway Boogie</li><li>Crazy Fingers</li><li>Playing In the Band</li><li>I Second That Emotion</li><li>Let It Grow</li><li>Stella Blue</li></ul><p></p><p>Highlights were a long, jammed out Crazy Fingers and a crowd-pleasing Second That Emotion, that had everyone dancing and singing along. After that though, Joe was taken over again by the dragons and started playing louder and faster and louder and faster until you thought something had to bust. And then Scott jumped up to his mike and started screaming about the young girl singing her way down to the river and gathering her water. I wonder if she knows the little school girl? This was a cathartic Let It Grow, and after that Tommy took over and sang a beautiful but dark Stella Blue to cap it off.</p><p>OMG, do these guys never quit? I'd been a little worn out but that second set packed so much energy that I had no choice but to stand and dance all through it, especially when the guy in front of us was dancing so hard you thought his spine must be made of rubber.</p><p>Joe is always a gracious host and thanked us as profusely as ever. But after a break they came back out for an encore of Saturday Night. Scott really hammed it up on this, calling out one more Saturday night in Boston. I guess they like it here and I'm glad they do.</p><p>We sat back down and let the crowd filter out a bit before we took off. Not a long walk back to the garage and luckily not a long line to exit. We twisted around to the ramp down to the tunnels, and then made it back home without any traffic delays. Another great night with JRAD and I can't wait to see them again!</p><p><br /></p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-76657423842654860992023-08-07T12:43:00.012-04:002023-08-15T13:59:25.395-04:00JRAD Rock BangorThey booked a great Summer of shows in the riverside pavilion in Bangor, and we were on board for TTB in July, and then for JRAD on August 6th. We asked friends S&M if they'd be interested and the timing of the JRAD show was perfect for a weekend visit. They and we three headed up there in their new car on a beautiful and mellow Sunday after a river kayak earlier that day.<div><br /></div><div>We had an early dinner at a sports bar near there in Bangor (Seasons), and then approached the venue from the Main Street side, though we had tickets up front and they want you to use the Northeast entrance for those sections. They waved us in though, barely checking our tickets, and we found ourselves a bit confused as we passed through the lobby. Were we in the right place? Were they having a JRAD concert here? They were selling JRAD gear in the merch stand, but besides us and the many venue staff who were all friendly and trying to assist us, there was no one there!</div><div><br /></div><div>We kept on going toward the front sections, and realized there were a few people. Dave and I stopped for the bathroom and to fill water bottles, but where was everyone? The bathroom didn't have a line, in fact it was deserted. We walked into the front section and saw what the story was, though it still mystifies us. The front section was only about a third full. The rear section and the lawn were closed as they had been for TTB in July, but the front section had been packed for that. We had great seats, dead center (maybe a row or two behind where we were for TTB) but had so much room around us we could sit and see everything on stage. At one point the seats in six rows in front of me were empty.</div><div><br /></div><div>Really, really strange. This band sells out places in Boston, and that's what we'd been expecting, but I guess they're not big enough ("just a Dead cover band") to attract the casual fan in Maine?? That's too bad, but the good news is that this meant it was one of the most mellow concert crowd scenes we've been in in a while. It was really fun to just have a casual evening and to see such a great band. And another great thing was that everyone there wanted to see and hear JRAD, this wasn't a "let's go to a rock show, who's playing?" crowd. Everyone was in their Grateful Dead gear of course, including an uber-cute father and young daughter, dancing in front of us. One guy was wearing a "Fat People Are Harder to Kidnap" t-shirt.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, the band came out right on time (why wait?) and they had Jon Shaw playing bass instead of Dave Dreiwitz, who was touring with Ween. Details of JRAD's setup change, though they generally keep the same positions (Marco far left, Scott far right, etc.). This time they lined up close together, though it's a large stage and they could have spread out. Joe was not set up as far front as usual, but he had a huge set, including a second, smaller bass drum, and the sound was excellent. I was afraid they'd be uninspired by the small crowd, but these guys don't worry about being stars. They turned in one of the best shows I've seen from them. Here's the first set:</div><div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Good Morning Little School Girl</li><li>Reuben and Cherise</li><li>China Cat Sunflower</li><li>Feel Like a Stranger</li><li>West L.A. Fadeaway</li><li>The Other One</li></ul></div></div><div>But as you might expect if you've ever seen JRAD, this was not a textbook set. They opened with a long blues jam and then Scott started singing in such a funky style you almost couldn't recognize School Girl, it wasn't done like Pigpen did it. They stopped and reversed direction with the story song of Reuben and Cherise, on which Tommy usually excels except on this one he totally blew the words. He seemed to be having a tough set with glitches in his teleprompter, his monitor, and his guitar going out of tune. But he persisted and next sang a strange, little China Cat ... they may not have broken the three-minute mark with this one before going into a deep jam that ended with Scott suddenly springing to the mike and singing about everything flashing.</div><div><br /></div><div>But after Stranger and West L.A. they went back into deep jam territory and got louder and louder until Joe was absolutely hammering his kit at an unsustainable pace, and then he really went crazy. And we realized we'd ended up in The Other One. Jon may not have been as dynamic as a Phil or an Oteil here, but the rest of the band made up for it. Besides Joe, Scott (on his old guitar), and Tommy having great nights, perhaps the performer of the evening was Marco. He had (at least) 4 keyboards set up, including a baby grand, and as we said in the car on the way home, it was just mind-boggling some of the dual parts he played with his right hand on the piano and his left on the organ.</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow, that was a great set, and it was still early evening on a great Summer day, with plenty of room to spread out. Pretty standard set break and then they came back out with:</div><div><div><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Catfish John</li><li>Good Lovin'</li><li>Shakedown Street</li><li>The Wheel</li><li>Dark Star</li><li>Tennessee Jed</li><li>Greatest Story Ever Told</li><li>Fire on the Mountain</li></ul></div></div><div>Well, this set may have been even better. They started off with a wonderful, lazy, sunny, and mellow version of Catfish John that could melt in your mouth. And then they went right back to rocking. At the end of The Wheel Joe started taking off again, breaking sticks and pounding the bejeezus out of everything in sight ... the twin bass drums are a great addition to his rig. But then he calmed down and we realized we were adrift in space and there was a Dark Star right over there.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was afraid they'd mail in the Bangor show, but they did a great, long, loud second set, ending with a fantastic GSET (which I love) and then an incendiary Fire. Great stuff! It was so amazing not being jammed into a small space to see this band, and we all spread out and relaxed a bit before they came out for a tidy encore of Ripple, with Tommy singing. His equipment luck had been much better in the second set than in the first.</div><div><br /></div><div>What a fun concert, it was wonderful to hang out a bit, have a leisurely walk the few blocks back to where we had parked for free, and then have totally empty roads for the 50-minute drive back home. I'm looking forward to seeing more great acts in Bangor.</div>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-6605485422307635082023-07-22T12:57:00.200-04:002023-07-27T14:26:17.665-04:00Phil & Friends In a Summer Storm<p>We were delighted to hear that Phil Lesh was going to be playing in Boston on July 21st. He hadn't played anywhere in town since Bobby & Phil in 2018, and before that since playing the Bank Of Boston Pavilion with Furthur in 2013! And this time he was playing the same venue, though it's now called the Leader Bank Pavilion.</p><p>I've had mixed experiences at the waterfront pavilion in Boston, but I've enjoyed it immensely the last few times, because if you have good seats some of the negative aspects are mitigated. And we got good seats again, this time almost exactly one row in front of where we'd sat for JRAD last year. One funky thing about our seats though, under our feet was a channel carrying power to the soundboard, capped with a metal grill. We weren't too worried about it at first...</p><p>Dave was over and we ate at home, and then drove down to the Seaport, where we parked in an underground garage and moseyed on in. As mentioned, it's been a very rainy Summer, but the weather was looking great at that point, and we had a fun time hanging out next to the low-tide harbor with some new friends before the show. Got to our seats but as often happens on Friday nights, the crowd was very late-arriving and the band didn't come on for a while.</p><p>Phil's band didn't have any great surprises this time, including the core of Grahame Lesh on rhythm and John Molo on drums. Frequent keyboardist Jason Crosby was also there, recent contributors Jennifer Hartswick and James Casey were on board to handle the horns and the superlative vocals, and Eric Krasno was on lead guitar. I'd seen Krasno with Soulive, opening for TTB in 2014 at Boston's House Of Blues, but never seen him with Phil.</p><p>We were psyched! Here's the first set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>The Golden Road (To Unlimited Devotion)</li><li>Brown-Eyed Women</li><li>Candyman</li><li>He's Gone</li><li>That's What Love Will Make You Do</li><li>Althea</li></ul><p></p><p>What an opener, and what a lead from Grahame on it, they were crackling with electricity, which as it turns out was the theme of the evening. This was followed by an excellent BEW and then a very trippy and heartfelt Candyman. Very good sound and some excellent playing, though Crosby was not as involved as we've seen him, except for when he soloed. Krasno was not a plus on guitar, though he had a few good vocal turns, especially his timing on BEW.</p><p>They did a very good He's Gone, though we missed Natalie Cressman on that, and then it was Jen's turn to shine. She'd already contributed a mind-bending trumpet solo on BEW, but she was just getting started. Our new friends mentioned that they'd done a couple of JGB songs in soundcheck ... Eric started off the first verse of What Love Will Make You Do, and then traded a few lines with Jen, and then she took it over and left Eric in the dust. She belted out that vocal with the amazing power and surprising intimacy we've come to expect from her and she had the crowd on their feet! This alone was more than worth the price of admission.</p><p>They finished the short set with another repeat from DeadCo earlier this Summer, this one not as noteworthy. And we should have suspected that something was up by the way they cut that set short and then came back out after just a 15-minute or so intermission. Here's the second set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Jack Straw</li><li>Mississippi Half-Step Uptown Toodeloo</li><li>Eyes of the World</li><li>Terrapin Station</li></ul><p></p><p>Jack Straw was fantastic, and Phil took the "Jack Straw" lead part to reply to Eric's "Shannon." Phil was really playing and singing at his best. This was my 50th time (by my count) seeing Phil, and he was as good as ever. As with other times, he grabbed my attention and I was concentrating on him all night. He's somehow gotten very old and was moving slowly, but he was on his game and though he's seemingly granted the bandleader role to his son, he doesn't show any sign of coasting. He's playing that music and we're there to hear it. As mentioned, the Friday night crowd was very rowdy, though very Deadicated (everyone there was a fan, not like it had been at Fenway for DeadCo), and we all gave numerous ovations to Phil. The band had had to interrupt our loudest ovation with The Golden Road!</p><p>Great Half-Step, one of my favorite songs, and then it was James's turn. He may have been a little under the weather (no pun intended), and was not very involved with the first set and retreated to the wings or sat for several numbers. But he'd turned in a great sax solo on Half-Step and then took the vocal on Eyes, to great affect! He sometimes sings like he hasn't really read the song all the way through, he's just singing what's on the teleprompter and emoting based on the few words he sees. But with this he gave us a whole-song performance.</p><p>We knew that there thunderstorms and (I think) some tornados in Eastern Mass that evening, but thought we had lucked out and missed them. Then during the short set break it started raining, and by the time we got into Eyes it was absolutely pouring. We were under a big tent, but the wind picked up and the thunder and lightning got closer and louder and brighter by the second. We were starting to worry about the electrical conduit under our feet. Was this really safe? The wind was whipping and we got hit with some moisture from the Biblical sheets of rain, though we were in the center of the tent. We began to worry that the equipment in the soundboard enclosure right next to us was getting wet, and it looked like some of the guys on stage were getting wetter than they'd like.</p><p>The band launched into a great Terrapin and we were rocking again, though we were getting more and more concerned while the water just poured down outside the tent. And then the venue crew called off the concert. Phil seemed heartbroken and apologized to the crowd while they tried to hustle him offstage. What a bummer!</p><p>The venue put the message up on their video boards and on their FB page that we should shelter in place, and everybody was fine hanging out under the tent. We didn't want to go out into that storm. But then finally the venue changed their messages to "we are closing, leave now!" Most people still didn't budge, but we saw that there was a small break in the rain and so we left, and got drenched on our way back to the car.</p><p>Some confusion getting out of the garage and before we knew it we were on the Turnpike heading West. The storm returned in full force, complete with thunder and lightning, and we were sure there was going to be street flooding, so we stayed on the highway and slowly made our way out to 128 and then back around to home. Quite a stressful drive and we were a little depressed about the show having been cut short. But what a show it had been, and we made it home safely.</p><p><br /></p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-11664028875837482622023-07-06T13:56:00.003-04:002023-07-13T10:10:06.304-04:00TTB On the Bangor Waterfront<p>We've seen the Tedeschi Trucks Band many times and just love them. They're unquestionably one of the best bands in the world and keep playing in new places. We saw them in Waterville ME in April last year, and this year they were up in Maine again, playing the waterfront pavilion in Bangor on July 5 with Ziggy Marley opening. Didn't take much for us to get tickets as soon as we could, and we got great seats in the 11th row, dead center.</p><p>An incredible stretch of rain swamped mid-coast Maine in June and continued into July, but cleared up right in time for the concert. L went with us when David couldn't make it, and she had a good time, though she found it kind of loud, especially when Derek would turn up the volume. It was a sunny drive up route 15 to get there, parked in the Pickering Square Garage on Broad Street, and then had a nice walk down the river, pausing for an early dinner of sandwiches and chips on a bench by some old cannons.</p><p>They wouldn't let us bring our plastic water bottles into the venue, even empty, but there was no line to get in and everybody was smiling. And wow, have they re-done the venue since the last time we were there, in 2019 for the Willie Tour. Back then it seemed like an amphitheater cobbled together in front of a big stage. This time they still had the big stage, but had enclosed the seating area with nice, wood pavilions hosting luxury boxes up top and new bathrooms down below (it had been all porta-potties before). The "lawn" had been a patch of dirt before, but now was lovely green turf. The concessions seemed better laid out, Dave had had to wait in line 45 minutes the last time!</p><p>They had a VIP pavilion and a lounge area for us regular people. And they were selling excellent beer, I got a Baxter Coastal Storm from the stand up in front where nobody else was going. Funny that they didn't have the whole pavilion open though, the third section of seats and the lawn were empty and closed off, though they had apparently sold out the first two sections. Must be supply chain difficulties.</p><p>Anyway, got to our great seats and it wasn't long before Ziggy Marley came on with a ten-piece band and played a great set. He had a drummer and a percussionist, two electric guitarists, a bassist, two keyboard players, two backup singers, and he alternated between an electric in gaudy Jamaican colors and an acoustic. He's Bob Marley's son and stuck to the reggae, though he's done a lot of children's music over his pretty long career. Here's his setlist:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Rebellion Rises</li><li>Beach in Hawaii</li><li>The Lucky One</li><li>Be Free</li><li>Personal Revolution</li><li>Wild and Free</li><li>Circle of Peace</li><li>See Dem Fake Leaders</li><li>Justice / Get Up, Stand Up / War</li><li>We Are the People</li><li>Love Is My Religion</li><li>Is This Love</li><li>Look Who's Dancing</li></ul><p></p><p>It was a nice, long set, and the band was really excellent. His backup singers, in Jamaican colors themselves, had some great dance moves, some smooth harmonies, and some great rap breaks. The lead guitarist stood out for me, and they did the accomplished thing of making it seem like Ziggy was the one strumming the reggae beat through most of the songs, but it was actually the other guitarist, who was the funkiest one on stage. Ziggy (and his impossibly long dreadlocks, they're down to his knees) concentrated on the vocals and was excellent himself. It was all his songs with a few by his father mixed in. I especially liked Wild and Free and the closing Look Who's Dancing.</p><p>I knew it was going to take a while to take down their set and to set up TTB, with their two drummers, risers for the vocalists and horn players, etc. But they've been on tour together for a while and did this incredibly efficiently. There had been room for dancing in our seats during the opening set, but the crowd (including customers of L's) filled in and the front two sections were packed ... I saw no empty seats. Susan and Derek came out to wild applause, by now the fact that they are the band to see is out far and wide.</p><p>OMG, this was fantastic! It was possibly the best TTB concert I've seen, and I've seen a lot of them. Our seats were excellent and the sound was highest quality, though perhaps a little too trebly up front where we were. All of the qualities that make this such a great band were there, and they played a long, long set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Hear My Dear</li><li>Ain't That Something</li><li>I Am the Moon</li><li>Doo Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)</li><li>Part of Me</li><li>Bell Bottom Blues</li><li>Why Does Love Got to Be So Sad?</li><li>Anyhow</li><li>I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free</li><li>Do I Look Worried</li><li>Midnight in Harlem</li><li>Gravity</li><li>Angel From Montgomery / Sugaree</li><li>That Did It</li><li>I Want More</li><li>Beck's Bolero</li></ul><p></p><p>This was a great mix of their own songs, opening with the exceptional Hear My Dear from their latest record. They played two Derek and the Dominoes songs in succession, and some of the amazing blues covers they pick up, including the Stones' Heartbreaker and the closing instrumental from Jeff Beck.</p><p>At one point Susan forgot the words to the song she was singing (I forget which one). Derek looked anxious and tried to prompt her with hand signals, which made her laugh. But I swear it was less than 30 seconds before a roadie had printed out the words and laid them next to Susan's mike. What efficiency! She resumed. On several songs, Susan switched from her normal teal guitar to a blonde Les Paul, which sounded excellent.</p><p>Perhaps the song of the set was Billy Taylor's revered I Wish I Knew, opened by Mike Mattison up front, and then batted around between Susan and the other vocalists. The intro to Midnight In Harlem wasn't the one we've come to expect. It went way into outer space, but you could tell what it was leading up to, and that song is so mellow, soulful, and lyrical when they get there.</p><p>I have to mention Alicia Chakour, who was as subtly powerful as ever. And the musician of the night was ... no surprise ... Derek Trucks, who is one of the best and most consistent guitarists I've ever seen. And as I've mentioned other times I've seen them, he conducts the band so well with little nods of his head, turns of his body, and movements of his eyes. Susan can do this too, at one time she and Gabe were holding a note together and without being obvious, he had his eye on her. She had her eye on him too, and on a quick cut with her hand they transitioned seamlessly into the chorus.</p><p>And the set list was even more adventurous that you might think, because they mixed in a few bring-down-the-house horn breaks. Not only did Kebbie Williams get his thing on, but Ephraim Owens took a great early break on trumpet, and near the end of the set Elizabeth Lea got out her mute and the three of them traded bars back and forth. Great stuff!</p><p>I think the band may have been a little mixed up about where they were, understandable in the middle of a long tour. There was a shoutout to "Boston Mass" somewhere in the middle, and at the end I swear Susan said that they always loved playing in Massachusetts. Oh well. They came back out after a long stretch of whoops and hollers and encored with Show Me. As I say, it was a long, long set. We all had a great time, we could have been in Oklahoma.</p><p>Not too much problem getting out of there and walking the quarter-mile or so back to the parking garage. And believe it or not the traffic died out quickly and the roads were deserted almost all the way home. Not like seeing a concert in the big city!</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-32156353342923668662023-06-26T11:41:00.162-04:002023-07-05T12:27:39.712-04:00Dead & Company Final Tour, Fenway part 2<p>The Saturday concert had been so good, and we wondered what surprises were in store for us on Sunday. Samson and Delilah for sure, but besides that most of our predictions were incorrect. But whatever, that was fine with us!</p><p>The big topic was how and when we were going to get in to Fenway. As bad as our crowd experience had been, we knew that it would be even worse if we didn't head in there sooner rather than later, and we decided to brave Yard House once more. Couldn't be as noisy and crowded as yesterday, huh?</p><p>We parked in the same garage on Ross Way and were about to get to the restaurant, where Andrew (who hadn't been at Saturday's show) was already waiting. But who were those two hippies right in front of us? It was Paul and Diane! They're some of our Green River Festival friends and had been there for Friday and Saturday, but had just arrived back in Boston for the DeadCo show. What serendipity, this was amazing!</p><p>We got a big, relatively quiet table, and all six of us had a great meal, with some fine beers, salads, and conversation. Time to head in and we broke up with them to find our way in. Amazingly, the merch stand outside had no line and we were able to pick up a few t-shirts and sweatshirts, which we dumped back at the car. Then we walked all the way down Van Ness to the bleacher entrance and hooked back around up to our right-field grandstand seats, under the overhang and not far from where we'd sat for the Thanksgiving Woburn-Winchester game in 2021. Luckily the evening sun didn't quite shine in our eyes, and the sight lines were almost as good as they had been the night before, though the sound was understandably not quite as good.</p><p>We were able to hit the bathrooms and beer line before it got too crazy, and then make it back to our seats. But the talkers and pot chain-smokers were again ubiquitous! Two guys behind us in the second set were engaged in a long conversation and during Drums one of them (a loud talker) commented that this was what he'd come for. I whirled around and said, "Excuse me, I have to interrupt. If you came for Drums how come you're not listening to it?" He got the point and quieted down a bit.</p><p>Anyway, this was another excellent concert, perhaps not as dynamic as Saturday's had been.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Samson and Delilah</li><li>Cold Rain and Snow</li><li>Jack Straw</li><li>Althea</li><li>Comes a Time</li><li>Mr. Charlie</li><li>He's Gone</li><li>Goin' Down the Road Feelin' Bad</li></ul><p></p><p>I just love CR&S, and the timeless Jack Straw was another magical first set song, setting the tone for another great Summer. Comes a Time was a surprise ... tour debut ... and Oteil was in excellent voice on it. John took the blues intensity up with Mr. Charlie, and the whole band took it ever farther up with great ensemble singing on He's Gone. And then GDTRFB was a rocking sing-along for all of Fenway. What fun!</p><p>Longer set break than Saturday, but we stayed in our seats. We knew that just getting to the bathroom would be insane, and getting back would be even worse. And no way we were going to brave the beer lines. We'd gotten some outrageously priced bottles of water when we got beer before the first set, and these helped us get through. We were up and dancing for most of the show of course, but by the end of the night we were getting pretty exhausted. Anyway, time for the second set, where the dragons come out.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>They Love Each Other</li><li>Playing In the Band</li><li>Help On the Way</li><li>Slipknot!</li><li>Fire On the Mountain</li><li>Drums</li><li>Space</li><li>Playing In the Band</li><li>The Other One</li><li>Standing On the Moon</li><li>Not Fade Away</li></ul><p></p><p>More individual excellence and more tight, accomplished takes on these songs. They reprised PITB after another mind-bending Space segment and then went into a dark and meaty reprise of TOO, finally finishing up the second verse. Sarah loves SOTM and this was a great cover with Bob singing as well as ever.</p><p>It's in their contract that they have to throw NFA to the crowds so they can chant endlessly, but this was luckily a short and sweet one and the band came back out for an encore before things really got out of hand. They had meant to encore with The Weight Saturday night before getting distracted by the dark star on the big river, but they did it Sunday night (with Jeff taking a verse of course), and then finished off with Ripple.</p><p>Geez, will I ever see these guys again? Probably not in that configuration at least, though I knew I'd be seeing more streams of this tour. But it was sad to have them leave Fenway ... wait a minute, will I ever be inside Fenway again? Probably, but again, nothing is forever.</p><p>Anyway, we were close to our limit with the scene. Successfully exited out the bleacher entrance but then knew that it would take hours to get all the way up Van Ness, so we detoured around up Boylston, which was pretty packed too. Made it back to the garage, but the luck we'd had with lights on Saturday didn't hold, dentists were dashing across the street with balloons, and we were delayed forever just exiting up to Storrow. And when we made it to 93 North, there were three lanes closed and it took forever just to get up to Roosevelt Circle, where we opted for cross-country back home.</p><p>But what a weekend it had been! We've been blessed by Dead & Company, and we've taken the opportunities we could to go see them live. It's been worth every second. </p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-4102303067857364122023-06-25T12:36:00.055-04:002023-07-05T13:03:33.560-04:00Dead & Company Final Tour, Fenway part 1<p>We've been blessed to have one of the finest bands ever, Dead & Company, touring for the last few years and visiting New England frequently. But nothing is forever, especially bands. Original Dead drummer, Bill Kreutzmann, has had to sit out stretches of their last couple of tours and announced early that he wouldn't be on this one at all. Bob Weir's other band, Wolf Bros (which includes Kreutzmann's replacement, Jay Lane, and sometimes keyboardist Jeff Chimenti), has been taking a lot of his time, and the other members of the band, especially John Mayer, have many irons in the fire themselves.</p><p>Probably for these and other reasons, Dead & Company announced that their Summer 2023 tour would be their last, and more than the usual frenzy for tickets ensued. There are rumors that actually the "end" of this band is mostly motivated by contractual issues, and that a "next Dead band" will appear soon under a different name. We'll see about that, I hope so.</p><p>In any event, the last gasp of this band has been riveting. We'd managed to stream about half the shows on the tour in advance of their June 24th and 25th appearances in Fenway Park. And we'd been very impressed. Not to knock Kreutzmann at all, but their rhythm was key to the band approaching another level from their last few tours. The adventure they brought to GD music had increased steadily with each tour, but this time around they seemed a little more crisp and assured in addition to that. Being their last tour probably helped also, they seemed more ready to push the envelope and try new things.</p><p>And Mayer and Chimenti have been playing flawlessly. I remember Garcia taking over entire theaters with his guitar playing, and Mayer has been reaching that level. He starts into a lead on his blues guitar (that he's been been playing almost all the time) and your whole soul just follows along with him. Then Jeff takes a lead and you trust him to take you to a higher place. Bobby had been showing some wear and tear in his voice lately, but his guitar playing was as right on as ever ... he's been mostly sticking to his green D'Angelico. And the bottom end has been remarkable (again, not knocking Kreutzmann), filled with drum pyrotechnics and fast bass passages.</p><p>Dave had gotten tickets to the shows at Citi Field (New York) preceding the Boston shows, but decided that the physical and psychological cost of going down there was probably not worth it. We agreed, we shuddered a bit at the thought of the intense crowd scenes and all that goes along with them. But we'd be damned before we'd skip the Fenway shows (even though this meant missing the Green River Festival this year!), and we lined up online for tickets to them. Even this was an intense hassle but we got seats to both shows and got very psyched for them.</p><p>Dave was over for the weekend and we headed into the Fens early on the 24th, hoping that the incredible rains of this late Spring/early Summer would hold off. We got a table at oppressively noisy and crowded Yard House. Can't believe that our waitress could put up with that level of noise for her whole shift. We had to shout in her ear to place our orders. But we like the beer and food there, it's very conveniently located, and we didn't have to wait for a table for that long.</p><p>Off to the ballpark after that and we managed to find our way to our pretty good seats in a box just to the left of the visitor dugout, five or so rows from the field. I considered getting a beer, but the lines were long and the crowd was oppressive with people clogging the aisles and wandering around in dazes. It looked worse out on the field, especially when they wheeled out a stretcher for a medical emergency and closed off one of the pressure valves holding those fans in. Anyway, we were ready for the madness and pretty much stuck to our seats.</p><p>Another thing we were prepared for but exceeded our expectations was talking in the crowd. Some people carried on conversations throughout the whole concert, like they were sitting (stoned) in their living rooms. The guy to my right had done lighting at Fenway and so got a lot of tickets for friends. Most of them were Deadicated concert goers like him and were there to listen. But some weren't. One couple in particular shoved their way up to talk to him and kept on talking, with their backs to the band. I finally asked them to keep it down and the friend was outraged at that. He and his partner left in a huff and soon after that the guy to my right touched my shoulder. When I turned around he and his girlfriend offered me a handshake and a fist-bump, smiled, and said thanks for that. They were there to listen, not to talk!</p><p>And some people were there to smoke pot, and smoke more pot, and keep on smoking pot. I'm used to clouds of smoke at concerts, but this was extreme, especially the couple who sat in front of us for the second set and smoked doobie after doobie of ditchweed, like they'd better smoke as much as they could before they had to leave. We were choking from the smell ... hadn't they heard of edibles?</p><p>Anyway, just trying to set the bad part of the scene. The good part of the scene was fantastic! The rain held off and we even got some blue sky and brilliant sunshine reflecting off the right field stands. Our sight lines were pretty good, being a few rows up we could see all of the stage very well. And the sound was as great as you'd expect from such an experienced band. They were scheduled to start at 6:30 and came on late (supposedly, John, Oteil, and Jeff were stuck in traffic and had to get out of the limo and run). Here's the first set:</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Cassidy</li><li>Brown-Eyed Women</li><li>I Need a Miracle</li><li>Here Comes Sunshine</li><li>Tennessee Jed</li><li>China Doll</li><li>Viola Lee Blues</li><li>The Music Never Stopped</li></ul><p></p><p>Even to critics like us, who had seen much of the tour and were even pickier because of that, this just bowled us over. Bobby's voice was not shaky at all, it was as strong as ever. They were so tight and well-rehearsed and the sound was so good. And they brought that extra panache we'd noticed with this tour, ready to jam and be experimental, but doing it as a group rather than a bunch of individuals.</p><p>And the experience was beautiful, I almost forgot about all the madness. Seagulls whirled above Fenway in the slowly setting sun as they sang about the flight of the seabirds. We'd predicted that they'd play Here Comes Sunshine, and we'd recently heard covers of that song by Phil's bands that we considered hard to equal, but this was just as magical an experience, if not better. We were outside, the rain was holding off, and the early evening summer sun was streaking through the venerable ballpark, while on stage John and Bobby and Oteil and Jeff (who's vocal contributions were key) sang their hearts out.</p><p>Wow, that was great. The bathroom was not that far away, but the beer lines were still impossible and I fled back to my seat while the rock crowd in Fenway whirled around us. I knew I would be going back there the next night, but my future plans do not include many concerts at Fenway!</p><p>Anyway, it was an unusually short set break and then the guys came back out and wowed us some more.</p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>New Speedway Boogie</li><li>Dark Star</li><li>The Other One</li><li>Terrapin Station</li><li>Drums</li><li>Space</li><li>Dark Star On the Big River</li><li>Black Peter</li><li>Casey Jones</li><li>One More Saturday Night</li></ul><p></p><p>This was a mind-bending set! We were hoping for a Dark Star and boy did we get one. They went far out there, but this was a solid, booming outer space experience, and they kept teasing TOO and then went into it, one of Dave's and my favorite songs. And then they held up after the first verse and shifted gear smoothly into Terrapin. Excellent stuff.</p><p>Oteil had been doing a duet with Mickey at the beginning of some Drums segments on the tour, but this night they went right onto the meat of Drums, and then Mickey had an extended time on The Beam. He took it way down low and got Fenway shaking while the lights played over the press box. Dave thinks he actually saw him lick The Beam, as he sometimes does in the throes of ecstasy.</p><p>And then something totally unexpected happened. We were thinking that they'd go back into TOO and/or back into Dark Star, both of which had only been the first verses. But were they going to break into Big River? Were they going to go back into Space? What was happening? Oteil and John found a groove and Bobby and Jeff jumped right in and they followed that groove down the rabbit hole and back out and we all were suddenly parsecs away. In the band's later notes they scribbled a name for this jam, "Dark Star On the Big River." And that's what it was. You have to hear this.</p><p>Bobby always sings me Black Peter, and this one was fine. And Casey Jones is a little overplayed, but this was such an excellent one! John's vocal lead was great, and Oteil was a monster, hopping around the stage and playing a loud, strong, inventive bass line.</p><p>The finished with OMSN, being Saturday, and then waved goodbye. No encore tonight, as it was already pretty late and they were pressing up against Fenway's curfew.</p><p>We had to wait a bit before the lines out started moving and sat quietly in our seats while others clambered over us. The couple in front of us had been some of the first to "leave," though they had to be staggering after power-smoking ditchweed all night. Finally the crowd started moving and we made it out to Jersey Street, where we found ourselves in another crowd, pushing out to Van Ness and beyond, barely able to take steps without trampling each other. Finally made it back to our parking garage, got some good luck with lights down Boylston, and then were on the road back home.</p><p>What a horror show but what a great concert!</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-58057615581387481682023-06-14T19:56:00.000-04:002023-06-14T19:56:16.575-04:00Iris Dement at City Winery<p>By the time we saw that Iris Dement was playing at City Winery, the front of the room was sold already. But we got acceptable tickets about a third of the way back in that long, long room and were psyched.</p><p>Iris has recently released another staggering record, Workin' On a World, her second release since her last staggering record, Sing the Delta, which was released in 2012. Iris is so self-effacing, you have to think there must be a little humor in it. She says her husband (Greg Brown) is retired but still writes and sings songs around the house. She was doing the same thing and realized she might as well stop by the studio once in a while and record some stuff, since who knew when she was going to die (this is her sense of humor)?</p><p>She told us that she wrote the song, Workin' On a World, in November 2016 as a way of dealing with depression about the state of the world (she cited a quote I can't place, something like, "you must carve a path through the jungle of despair"). She said writing the song really helped her and she hoped it helped us. Well, that song sure does help, and there was a room full of people who would agree. And you should hear the rest of her album too, which gets very political and very personal. As I say, it's a staggering artistic achievement.</p><p>So anyway, we were eager to hear her sing songs from it, and they had City Winery's excellent grand piano out waiting for her when we arrived after meeting our friend L for dinner at Tavern In the Square. They also had a couple of mikes set up, and <a href="https://www.anaegge.com/" target="_blank">Ana Egge</a> came out right at 7:00 for the opening act.</p><p>City Winery has lots of drawbacks as a music venue, the main one being it's so crowded and busy with food and drink at small tables. But Ana was not phased by the noise and played a great set. She had a wonderful sounding steel-stringed guitar and has written some nice songs. Perhaps the highlight of her set though, was her cover of Dolly Parton's Wildflowers. And Ana wasn't afraid to reach for the high notes.</p><p>After a short break, Iris came on with her guitar with an accompanist, Elizabeth something, on bass (which sounded great, but looked like it might have had a little viola in its ancestry). I've seen perhaps more non-professionally paced concerts (Grateful Dead?) than I have professionally-paced ones (Asleep At the Wheel?), but Iris can sometimes take "pace" to another level. She dithers about whether she should stay on guitar or switch to the piano, or back again. And her monologues that start off directed to the audience often become conversations with herself that don't really have a point. But this is all great, and we know that after she settles down she'll start back into one of those excellent songs. </p><p>Can't remember the setlist exactly, but she started with a few early songs, then switched to her recent songs, introduced by Workin' On a World. She did Morning Glory, Let Me Be Your Jesus, Sing the Delta, Warriors Of Love, The Cherry Orchard, and several other tunes, showcasing her strong piano playing and her vocal range. Elizabeth was excellent on bass and took a few solos, though they perhaps had her mixed a little high.</p><p>Egge came back out for a few numbers with her ringing lead guitar, including a great version of Iris's Mama's Opry, in which Ana took the Mama lines. The funny thing is that Elizabeth is a bit short and Ana is very tall, so they had to make major adjustments to the mike stand when swapping, while trying to look cool.</p><p>Over too soon ... but they came back out for an encore. How about Iris on guitar singing Let the Mystery Be and then Our Town? Can't get much better than that. She didn't sing Down To Sing In Texas, which is what we were all waiting for. But perhaps we're a little too concerned in NE about songs and art pushing the boundaries. She was great and we all had a great time, and perhaps we had a better time in hearing her technical songs versus her heart-on-a-sleeve ones. Perhaps.</p><p>Got back to the car without a trip to the dispensary, and then an adventurous ride back up North on 93, skirting road work. So glad to see Iris!</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-22683063082593601072023-05-23T10:47:00.023-04:002023-10-07T11:45:14.494-04:0013 States - Sound Crossing, Back Home<p>Monday, May 22</p><p>Woke up relatively early, and had a nice breakfast at the hotel. We had left plenty of time to make our reservations on the 10:00 ferry out of Orient Point, but we saw no reason not to hit the road as soon as we could. Long Island showed a different character that bright but hazy morning as we drove North, then East, past farms, nice rural homes, and several boutique hotels.</p><p>We didn’t hurry (we were actually stuck behind some slow-pokes so couldn’t have hurried if we’d wanted to) and had a mellow drive as the end of the Earth got closer and closer. We caught glimpses of the ocean to the left and to the right and finally made it all the way out to Orient Point.</p><p>I’d been watching the clock all along (as well as the scenery) and we were thinking that we could kill an hour at the State and County parks out at Orient Point while we waited for the 10:00 ferry. But it was just a minute before 9:00 when we pulled up to the ticket kiosk at the ferry dock, and when I told the guy that we had reservations on the 10:00 boat he said, “I can fit you on the 9:00 boat if you want.” I told him ok (we can see those parks later!), he quickly gave us our tickets, and I floored it out through their parking lot, bee-lining for the ferry, which blew its horn as we approached. They motioned us into the last spot on the automobile deck, and the Susan Anne had left the dock by the time Sarah and I got out of the car.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YSNVRoA5n2nY-66MuyV3BgmaFHhp23577Yu6INsEaemCdX3mYHkThTId8RqOi-3dTK_XrVLHOV_EbK1Ll6BA8mw2guqrTMkjdkBEkAbhDT2uNqhPRk_-ldhrD3gmM7CaJ0ebkdErrTr13mZHpHtKGz5sRPMwwNz6L_gU2meR_rgVk3RSh6Ml1yPeykpS/s4000/IMG_20230522_085948587_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_YSNVRoA5n2nY-66MuyV3BgmaFHhp23577Yu6INsEaemCdX3mYHkThTId8RqOi-3dTK_XrVLHOV_EbK1Ll6BA8mw2guqrTMkjdkBEkAbhDT2uNqhPRk_-ldhrD3gmM7CaJ0ebkdErrTr13mZHpHtKGz5sRPMwwNz6L_gU2meR_rgVk3RSh6Ml1yPeykpS/s320/IMG_20230522_085948587_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We hurried up two flights to the open passenger deck, and the trip over to New London CT was as fun as I’d hoped it would be. It was a beautiful but hazy day, still marred by Canadian wildfires but with acceptable visibility. The Orient Point harbor faces South, and the ferry had nosed into the dock, so we had to turn around and then motor around the tip of Long Island, between it and Plum Island. I had my windbreaker on and long pants, and most of the less prepared people went into the enclosed cabin after a short time. But I stayed on deck and just reveled in the sights. We only saw two other boats, both sailboats lazily running down the Sound to the West.</p><p>Plum Island has a lighthouse, and beyond it is Gull Island, which has a lighthouse too. When we passed that I could see South to Gardiners Island, and beyond that could just make out Montauk Point, the other Eastern fork of Long Island. The Susan Anne had to fight a stiffening Northeast wind and the incoming tide, but made pretty good time. We passed over the line into Connecticut, with yet another lighthouse, Race Rock, to our starboard and beyond it seemingly huge Fishers Island.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwFZJran3oxMeshJ5nrtVa4RP5IagYU7cZxzbnF6ap507477HamAEMqH3c8-n5D7MD3tC34P-iTfphcoIK8WOxUkM313LEojCG2gnhtJR3O8xXvnQffcoUhC18MpfMIC893vrgvMRIxd4lN-LH-GpR99i0HP-l3Z28tSrPE-nhcWNiGd0zXOnrJ2zw6d0/s4000/IMG_20230522_090544077.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbwFZJran3oxMeshJ5nrtVa4RP5IagYU7cZxzbnF6ap507477HamAEMqH3c8-n5D7MD3tC34P-iTfphcoIK8WOxUkM313LEojCG2gnhtJR3O8xXvnQffcoUhC18MpfMIC893vrgvMRIxd4lN-LH-GpR99i0HP-l3Z28tSrPE-nhcWNiGd0zXOnrJ2zw6d0/s320/IMG_20230522_090544077.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We turned into New London harbor with the historic <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_London_Harbor_Light" target="_blank">New London Harbor Light</a> to our port side, and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_London_Ledge_Light" target="_blank">New London Ledge Lighthouse</a> to starboard. The wind had gotten pretty stiff by then, but we were now in the lee of the shore as we motored up the Thames River a bit, past the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Naval_Submarine_Base_New_London" target="_blank">U.S. Navy submarine base</a> in Groton.</p><p>The announcement came over the PA to get back to our cars, but we waited until we were almost docked, since we knew we’d be the last car off anyway. What a fun boat ride and now we were back in New England! One more state to go however. We wound uphill from the harbor a bit and then up the ramp onto 95 by 10:30, over the Thames toward Rhode Island.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ibJMiGjganBvTpGHIQPeJI4P9_72eAY2wDSJtpm_pt0-0LGGUZ2OSy9NJqutVMRrHcq98oeHC5euyTXDEIuLh-Z1r8LWo2M-wxD2OMVc_2IkX7l8Wq7mvLTBZCAZFC6_3Fl30ee4N_sDT70Kk5hlEAo90_isdDPFIa11Cuotqy0jhjIddYIdqtSSKWt9/s4000/IMG_20230522_112210169_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ibJMiGjganBvTpGHIQPeJI4P9_72eAY2wDSJtpm_pt0-0LGGUZ2OSy9NJqutVMRrHcq98oeHC5euyTXDEIuLh-Z1r8LWo2M-wxD2OMVc_2IkX7l8Wq7mvLTBZCAZFC6_3Fl30ee4N_sDT70Kk5hlEAo90_isdDPFIa11Cuotqy0jhjIddYIdqtSSKWt9/s320/IMG_20230522_112210169_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We were on the home stretch and it was a lovely day, but we were not stopping until we got back to Woburn. Stayed on 95 up through Providence, passed back into Massachusetts, and took 128 clockwise because we were not at all anxious to get caught in city traffic again. Back to the roads we knew, and soon home to Woburn, not long after noon. The cats were very, very happy to see us and we were just as happy to see them. 148.4 miles on the road that day, and 18 by sea.</p><p><br /></p><p>So was this a successful vacation or not? It sure was. We’d pretty much hit every part of our ambitious itinerary, though it took a lot of driving. More of the driving than I’d anticipated was harrowing … in all we’d done over 3000 miles, and lots of it was hard traveling through rain, traffic, and trucks. But this was part of the experience. I hadn’t really been out on the road in years, and I had been itching to get out there in 2023, see the road, the country, and perhaps the traffic and the bad sides of cities. And that itch sure was scratched! I’m not anxious to get out on the road again for a while.</p><p>And many of the places we saw were delightful and touched my intellect and my spirit. That was what we’d hoped for and we succeeded in remaining open to wonder all trip. We got hotels where and when we wanted, had quite a variety of meals (we went to a Cracker Barrel!), and didn’t get lost, catch COVID, or get shot by rednecks. There are beautiful sights and nice people everywhere and we’d just been lucky enough to experience two weeks of them. Now we could go back into our cocoon for a while!</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-25726662218885090582023-05-22T10:45:00.034-04:002023-10-07T11:36:46.649-04:0013 States - Back Up North<p>Sunday, May 21</p><p>OK, this was going to be a tough driving day. Had a surprisingly good sleep, not small or weird beds and not loud AC. Took a quick shower, got some nutrition and calories in their small breakfast room, we packed up like pros, and then hit the road pretty early.</p><p>The first highlight (and maybe the best of the day) was immediate as we crossed the mouth of Chesapeake Bay on the <a href="https://www.cbbt.com/" target="_blank">Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel</a>. The day had “dawned” under a severe overcast, mixed with smoke from Canadian wildfires, and our trek over the bridge out into the ocean was set in a low, streaky sky. This was where the Battle of Yorktown was really won … the French navy kept the English navy from entering Chesapeake Bay in this huge strait.</p><p>We could see out into the Atlantic itself, and on our left into the Bay, but not more than a few miles in each direction. Container ships moved faster than I would have thought possible out to sea through the Thimble Shoal Channel and into the Bay via the Chesapeake Channel, as we motored along at the speed limit across the bridge and down through the tunnels in the middle of the water, 18 miles over to Fisher’s Island and then onto the Delmarva Peninsula.</p><p>We traveled on and on, North on the Delmarva Peninsula and finally out of Virginia into Maryland, and then at long last into Delaware (our 12th state). This was miles and miles of rural driving like we’d seen all through the South, with billboards every few hundred yards for personal injury lawyers and with dollar stores to the left and right. But this was straighter, there were no curves in the road.</p><p>How to describe the rest of the day? The traffic slowly picked up and picked up as we got into Delaware, and the far-between stoplights on the highway got more and more frequent. By the time we got up to Dover DE, the rural highway was getting close to the “character” of route 1 in Saugus. But it mercifully morphed into a superhighway (strangely called “route 1”) and we were soon in a pack of cars doing 80. We stopped at a rest area, but the only exit from that sent us in the wrong direction!?! I was not impressed with Delaware.</p><p>Finally made it to the North end of the state, and then over the bridge to the New Jersey Turnpike. Trying to keep this short, but the NJ Turnpike was as forbidding as ever. It split into the “car” and “truck” parts, and many cars went on the truck part since it was Sunday, relieving congestion some. We never really jammed up in New Jersey, but we could feel the New York gravity well dragging us inexorably forward into its maw.</p><p>A number of highway rest areas were closed for renovation(?), and we targeted the Woodrow Wilson rest area for a needed pee and lunch break. Unfortunately, everyone else felt that same way. The parking lot was more than a madhouse, I can’t believe we lucked into a space, and when I got inside there was a line for the men’s room stretching around the lobby. The woman’s room line was twice as long.</p><p>Ack! We had hoped to find a quiet picnic table or something to eat lunch there, but no chance. It was a maelstrom of angry people and honking cars. I made it back into the searing sun in the crazed parking lot, and luckily Sarah was jumping up and down with an alternative. We screwed out of there immediately (SUVs faced off over who would get our vacated spot), headed up the highway for a few miles, exited, and then followed suburban roads to the <a href="https://njtrails.org/trail/etra-lake-park/" target="_blank">Etra Lake State Park</a>, a wonderful oasis for us in the middle of New Jersey.</p><p>There was a cluster of people around their skate park and a few scattered groups using their vast network of soccer fields, but there was no one else at their picnic tables, where we had our last, leisurely PB&J lunch (we were now out of bread!). The lake was blue and peaceful, though small, and they actually had real rest rooms. This was a great interlude in the long day of driving, and was another small, hidden gem.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKuMCD0tAmofqIQuLmBTbBDd3awGXixqKuwHsaLXsjawE20WTC6l6xpNjqnP-oCQb0Lp47_9HTqahb9j93Bb_8R4EnjDJqCXpAGJO6tDp0RXopa6VRtJwfecyp0tjbqKZvIdRlkvtfr0U6lmA38KdpwQtT1zdKhEOGgSK-cvqauIEYBks9jOgyUCEm8XO/s4000/IMG_20230521_132428072_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBKuMCD0tAmofqIQuLmBTbBDd3awGXixqKuwHsaLXsjawE20WTC6l6xpNjqnP-oCQb0Lp47_9HTqahb9j93Bb_8R4EnjDJqCXpAGJO6tDp0RXopa6VRtJwfecyp0tjbqKZvIdRlkvtfr0U6lmA38KdpwQtT1zdKhEOGgSK-cvqauIEYBks9jOgyUCEm8XO/s320/IMG_20230521_132428072_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>OK, it was time for some serious driving, like we hadn’t been doing any before! The rest of NJ featured thicker and thicker traffic. We’d experienced New York on a Tuesday going South, and it was packed. Maybe going North on a mid-afternoon Sunday would be better? Not a chance, we were in a 5MPH traffic jam starting at the Goethals Bridge onto Staten Island, continuing over the Verrazano Narrows Bridge over the straits of New York Bay into Brooklyn, and it didn’t thin out until far, far East on Long Island.</p><p>This was a problem, but was not totally unexpected, and the good part of it was that we had plenty of time to look around and see the spectacular urban/natural landscape over the ocean entrance to New York and Jersey City. Manhattan dominated the view to the North, and piers and huge ships were underneath us. We finally got off the bridge onto the Belt Parkway in Brooklyn, and the traffic there was even worse.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDquqaxBg2m7TvxJLfZv6difaRCUpVt9wT8aosfTGAkb5M4b5tZJ6cKvWl1LS_AuTegQQs3jsXXMXImHatef1lteRH8m4qYACSm4YF-J7gpWka-LpmIV2z9yoOMouhvPv0MVBPtdmGQiSZDo2Jhuk8OJT0sdKP_eLcqSH1f7zk_3Q4Wovtn9fr0OlD7ule/s4000/IMG_20230521_144124320_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDquqaxBg2m7TvxJLfZv6difaRCUpVt9wT8aosfTGAkb5M4b5tZJ6cKvWl1LS_AuTegQQs3jsXXMXImHatef1lteRH8m4qYACSm4YF-J7gpWka-LpmIV2z9yoOMouhvPv0MVBPtdmGQiSZDo2Jhuk8OJT0sdKP_eLcqSH1f7zk_3Q4Wovtn9fr0OlD7ule/s320/IMG_20230521_144124320_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We pulled over at a “rest stop” in Brooklyn where we got a miraculous parking spot. This was <a href="https://www.nps.gov/gate/learn/historyculture/plumb-beach.htm" target="_blank">Plumb Beach</a> in the <a href="https://www.nps.gov/gate/index.htm" target="_blank">Gateway National Recreation Area</a>. We only stopped there for a bit, and our impressions were that a) they had the grossest port-a-potties I’ve ever seen and b) people were really enjoying themselves there. It had turned into a hazy (wildfires probably), warm Spring afternoon with a strong Easterly wind and thoroughly wrapped South Asian families were rolling in the sun on the sand.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIkzDJl0PJRcv4_TGAYLE4NIdM2Mi52eJf9DTa3_oiIt6XQHDfLDBs_g0tr_Q_fZcm8U9qLhKdMqxYMRvI1g1xCP0kTDtI57uBvlESJTI_iTmrlByhdMCFcdXv8qTcWQRuvR14wqDRf_4Gwa77XG_vat4pQ69NRuFZqxhCmFRRLwzv9eIDWPcEUidFhMN/s4000/IMG_20230521_150123321_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbIkzDJl0PJRcv4_TGAYLE4NIdM2Mi52eJf9DTa3_oiIt6XQHDfLDBs_g0tr_Q_fZcm8U9qLhKdMqxYMRvI1g1xCP0kTDtI57uBvlESJTI_iTmrlByhdMCFcdXv8qTcWQRuvR14wqDRf_4Gwa77XG_vat4pQ69NRuFZqxhCmFRRLwzv9eIDWPcEUidFhMN/s320/IMG_20230521_150123321_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Back into the slow-moving traffic and it went on and on as we crawled through miles out East on Long Island, wondering if it would ever end. At some point we were close to another classic GD venue, the Nassau Coliseum, but we were surrounded by cars who all wanted to go fast. There wasn’t much open space to be found, but a few NY cowboys in sports cars and motorcycles tried to make some, roaring up the littered breakdown lanes and cutting in and out.</p><p>We had gotten off early that morning, but it was already late afternoon before the traffic started easing and we could get up to a decent speed. There were still many miles to go, up to the Long Island Expressway itself and then way, way out to the Eastern parts of the island. At long last we got to the Holiday Inn Express & Suites in Riverhead NY, where we got a nice first floor room.</p><p>We weren’t about to get adventurous for dinner after that long day, and just walked across the parking lot to Buffalo Wild Wings. For a sports fan, they were very well-appointed. They featured an array of flags from local professional and college teams, an evocative picture of Mike Bossy holding the Cup at some point in the Islanders’ early-80’s dynasty, and the classic picture of Walt Frazier winning the NBA championship with a jump shot over Jerry West in the early 70s.</p><p>They also had a good beer list and I had a Blue Point Hoptical Illusion from an <a href="https://www.bluepointbrewing.com/" target="_blank">LI brewery</a>. I could see 17 TVs! Nice dinner, back to the hotel, and we actually got in a last Parks game before bed. We’d traveled 437.6 tough miles that day.</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-61980972590503316092023-05-21T10:41:00.044-04:002023-10-07T11:29:55.363-04:0013 States - Another Beautiful Swamp, Then Virginia Peninsula<p>Saturday, May 20</p><p>We were getting near the end of the trip and we’d been strategizing how best to space out our journey up the Eastern seaboard so we could get back on Monday while minimizing ridiculous driving days. But we were too late to cancel our reservation in Virginia Beach (not that much farther North from Elizabeth City) that Saturday night, so that would be impossible. So we decided not to worry and to enjoy a leisurely Saturday before intense Northward driving, at least that was the plan.</p><p>It sure started out that way. The rain had stopped but it was still pretty overcast and cool. Another very good but not-perfect breakfast at a very good but not perfect hotel, and then we packed up and hit the road.</p><p>Our first stop was going to be the Dismal Swamp, but it was doubtful whether the Northern section of it in Virginia, which is a National Wildlife Refuge and so perhaps preferable, would have many trails. Instead we stopped in the Southern section of it, which is still in North Carolina and is a <a href="https://www.ncparks.gov/state-parks/dismal-swamp-state-park" target="_blank">State Park</a>. This was another hidden jewel!</p><p>We were the first tourists when we got there at 9 or so, and all two of the staff had just started to set up. The highway there (route 17) is a straight road running North-South on the East, next to it is the vertical strip of the Dismal Swamp Canal, and on the other side of that is a great VC and the massive swamp itself.</p><p>The Canal is part of the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Intracoastal_Waterway" target="_blank">Intracoastal Waterway</a> and so needs to be prepared for commerce. There was none that Saturday morning, but they were officious about us crossing the removable bridge into the Swamp in case a (very small) oil tanker or the President’s flotilla suddenly came steaming down from Norfolk. George Washington had surveyed the route of the canal after all.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHZoKduze9GdXMiVTwB5u35nBJKFACybY4pjOoZS2AW6HR1JsabJLodVRqIRUWxfFIYTNaPjIy8doeQZZww8l_Odsy5UQBwfREuW-d1B1FQlKVSCYmh9VQJFvRCbs4AtKH9KtURHqgHgIH7PRke2TuBnH1A8e7tV8ZoawNiyPW_AwsztFpPMM1xTXI3w9/s4000/IMG_20230520_093753859_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHZoKduze9GdXMiVTwB5u35nBJKFACybY4pjOoZS2AW6HR1JsabJLodVRqIRUWxfFIYTNaPjIy8doeQZZww8l_Odsy5UQBwfREuW-d1B1FQlKVSCYmh9VQJFvRCbs4AtKH9KtURHqgHgIH7PRke2TuBnH1A8e7tV8ZoawNiyPW_AwsztFpPMM1xTXI3w9/s320/IMG_20230520_093753859_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The Ranger had hightailed it for the VC when we arrived and unlocked the doors, but he then disappeared and the whole place was wide open to us and to another couple who arrived next. It was kind of spooky and the others were especially perturbed. Were we allowed to be there? We walked quietly but spent less time than we might have looking at their interpretive exhibits about snakes and indigenous residents and trees. They also had rooms full of absolutely amazing taxidermy that we wandered through. We could have spent more time in that VC, but it eventually creeped us out that there was no one there, and we headed outside for the boardwalk trail.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eT0QcukVw1onblhM-mp89jCFbSPCUEOXaoFwaf7U-_eYU21zUlBnMMQIgaH2n_RzgmUresy4FBiL-PlA6SeVAOjSUV50x2wZz0czoEhN74zLqHSqfW8ck6kmPbIj9e0qxM96O8ofxCP9ipBH1OufUc1WFJzGT7r1iwr4Ch3xovFJl7MwAbV6jQSpMBBo/s4000/IMG_20230520_094401481.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-eT0QcukVw1onblhM-mp89jCFbSPCUEOXaoFwaf7U-_eYU21zUlBnMMQIgaH2n_RzgmUresy4FBiL-PlA6SeVAOjSUV50x2wZz0czoEhN74zLqHSqfW8ck6kmPbIj9e0qxM96O8ofxCP9ipBH1OufUc1WFJzGT7r1iwr4Ch3xovFJl7MwAbV6jQSpMBBo/s320/IMG_20230520_094401481.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>There was less than no one on the boardwalk trail, and we reveled in the privacy. Just as at Congaree, the boardwalk was needed because the swamp looked like it flooded often. This isn’t a long trail and we thought about taking a longer one, but all of the trails in the State Park (and apparently in the NWR to the North) are straight, flat paths alongside canals dug through the swamp, so probably wouldn’t have been any more entertaining than what we had just seen. It was an overcast morning, as was the norm on our trip, and the twisting boardwalk trail was damp and dismal and exciting with its perfect specimens of trees and shrubs and lots of mud all around. Didn’t see much wildlife that morning, but we heard lots of birds and had time to bid a gentle farewell to Southeast US nature.</p><p>Back to the car before the morning got on too much, and we were bound for <a href="https://www.nps.gov/colo/index.htm" target="_blank">Colonial National Historical Park</a>, but it was hard to get there. We took 17 up into Virginia, and then the megalopolis of Eastern VA started up. This consists of a debatable number of cities, all centering around the Hampton Roads at the South end of Chesapeake Bay, with the James and York Rivers leading off to the West with the Virginia Peninsula between them. The Google lady prevaricated, and we ended up taking the long way around the Norfolk Virginia (Tidewater 4-1009) beltway, but maybe it was the right way in the long run.</p><p>We followed the bridge-tunnel up over and under the Roads into Hampton, vastly entertained by spectacular Navy ships being repaired and impossibly huge container ships being loaded. You think CT drivers swoop and NJ drivers veer? You should see VA drivers on the highways of that port megalopolis on a Saturday morning. We suddenly passed by the famous Hampton Coliseum, scene of some legendary Grateful Dead concerts. The Google lady had taken over again and was leading us on the best(?) roads towards Jamestown, but navigating this traffic safely took as much concentration as NYC had.</p><p>We eventually made it to Jamestown Settlement on a steamy and bright late morning. The parking lot was rimmed by state flags and was milling with people, most of whom were paying the exorbitant visiting fees and then going on in past the gates. We used the bathrooms and then sidled up to one of the people taking the money. Were we in the right place? She very nicely told us that we weren’t, when we described what we were looking for. We wanted to see the original Jamestown “Island” rather than the overpriced “Settlement,” where they have lots of docents and reenactors in colonial garb, boring glass-blowing demonstrations, colonial cows, and hush puppies (as I remembered).</p><p>We were relieved to get out of that crowded place, on that suddenly hot and hazy morning. But when we got to the Island we found that this was a rip-off too. Definitely a more-our-scale kind of place, but when we got inside we realized they wanted $30 per person themselves … for what?? Actually, half of the entrance fee was a National Parks fee and so was covered by my card, but half of it was from Preservation Virginia and was not. We paid, it but after walking around we did not feel that this fee from Preservation Virginia was merited.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4POvj6_HradVOc3GPZiVh3nB9o4pZrxcCMmg2w953RcTnCgbqEXf7LiQl9SU5DDSksdo5-84dldRwfgD5zYSF7OowpVxLdyxngnCsS_-nv0LETZP5TIxa0KpSs30o9jao3kwMdoXJ2edjxoUHjFwr_ldaH7ikZbSDBYey-9JAw4pjHA-DC-KeE3mOsrb/s4000/IMG_20230520_123808939_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg4POvj6_HradVOc3GPZiVh3nB9o4pZrxcCMmg2w953RcTnCgbqEXf7LiQl9SU5DDSksdo5-84dldRwfgD5zYSF7OowpVxLdyxngnCsS_-nv0LETZP5TIxa0KpSs30o9jao3kwMdoXJ2edjxoUHjFwr_ldaH7ikZbSDBYey-9JAw4pjHA-DC-KeE3mOsrb/s320/IMG_20230520_123808939_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Ignoring what looked like another boring museum, we went out the back door and took their boardwalk over the wetlands to the island that early English settlers had tried to defend and form a life on. At least we were out in the fresh air again, and it had turned into a lovely, soft day as we strolled along the banks of the James River. Jamestown Island as a historic site had been largely ignored for many years, but the realization that there was profit in tourism and technical advancements in archaeology had combined in the last century. And the place is really an interesting and scenic spot, a living museum on the River. It’s fascinating to wonder what had made these people journey across the ocean in 1607 for a new life and to realize the challenges they had to deal with when they got there, including starvation and hostile inhabitants.</p><p>But Sarah and I had our own agenda and were looking for a nice place to hike that day. We wandered far away from the reconstructed chapel, etc., around the dubiously re-created parts of the island, where they’d placed brick walls where they thought the original settlers’ walls may have been.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvL1r18Ef5MwKRCQCqSMWiGxaTjoZCtyOZ4qm3HnwcnP6OKITC-O03hsAEar6BBng3l0hqa9-Ht9S3Y7VzxbTafrv9PhWYwwODSgZd7DD-3X-OJpbUCfSLWcE-pD3CPizXlelnLXuoyAbjTAej0-fCRq2DDqgO9oz5l6g3gEWKBMPaLesa7jSf5wxJlwt_/s4000/IMG_20230520_125225152_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvL1r18Ef5MwKRCQCqSMWiGxaTjoZCtyOZ4qm3HnwcnP6OKITC-O03hsAEar6BBng3l0hqa9-Ht9S3Y7VzxbTafrv9PhWYwwODSgZd7DD-3X-OJpbUCfSLWcE-pD3CPizXlelnLXuoyAbjTAej0-fCRq2DDqgO9oz5l6g3gEWKBMPaLesa7jSf5wxJlwt_/s320/IMG_20230520_125225152_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>That was nice, and there were some lovely river vistas and some old trees and squirrels. But we were done with that and what we really wanted was the road around the island and the promised trails at the deserted(?) end of it. But when we got there the road was closed for “turtle season!” Yeah, we’d seen a good variety of turtles in the wetlands leading out to the island, but I don’t think they would have been very threatened by the small number of cars trying to get out to the point.</p><p>Well ok! It was a beautiful day nonetheless and it was lunch time and the picnic tables were deserted, so we set up our lunch stuff and had a great, mellow time, talking to the squirrels about history.</p><p>Colonial National Historical Park consists of three sites arrayed around the Virgina Peninsula: Jamestown Island, Colonial Parkway, and Yorktown Battlefield. The island is farthest to the West, and we were dreading the task of now fighting the traffic back to Yorktown and then back to Hampton, but the Parkway is another hidden gem. We got on it, the crowds disappeared, and it was 23 miles of slow, winding curves past marshlands and under well-landscaped overpasses (under a tunnel through “Colonial Williamsburg,” thank Dog) Northeast across the Peninsula towards the banks of the York River.</p><p>As I say, Sarah and I are not military buffs, but being an employee at the Minute Man National Historical Park, where the Revolutionary War started, I felt that I *had* to visit Yorktown, where the last battle of the war took place. And I’m glad I did, though we didn’t spend much time there.</p><p>The parking lot in the VC was only a quarter filled for once, and we had time for a short talk with a Ranger before their introductory film. Unfortunately, the film was embarrassingly poorly produced. The actors playing the “British” had bad accents, bad wigs, and fell over immediately when “shot.” This was like a cheap soap opera or an episode of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Benny_Hill_Show" target="_blank">Benny Hill</a>. They tried to talk up American bravery, but this was not the main plot. The real story of this climactic battle was that the French fleet kept the British fleet (which had been dispatched from Manhattan to save English bacon) away from the York River and the English were surrounded and had to surrender. This was the last major battle of the Revolutionary War, though the Treaty Of Paris that officially ended it was still two years in the future.</p><p>After the film, the gift shop, and a few exhibits, we went back outside. The big feature in that section of the Park is a self-guided auto tour around to the key sites. But after a few admittedly lovely spots with low earthen walls (that were actually reproductions), we bagged and headed back towards the traffic maelstrom.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvluhyJXYKshjrz3pw5SoVc6mfXDpd3y9cP1ilWtTsRdXqK-dWyPJw7F-WhJWqzIBOhrfXLHSUysxov6hL4YYL-f2ZEgqilOjN6nO9m9HPBp5fiPc1UWqn2TtfMCpmPAvqwLwEntT_FYxHQ1z-mRzGSXHYAlL-tz1_x5VyEnUnqIyyS1xqC7yUxdC0giw/s4000/IMG_20230520_145725967_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvluhyJXYKshjrz3pw5SoVc6mfXDpd3y9cP1ilWtTsRdXqK-dWyPJw7F-WhJWqzIBOhrfXLHSUysxov6hL4YYL-f2ZEgqilOjN6nO9m9HPBp5fiPc1UWqn2TtfMCpmPAvqwLwEntT_FYxHQ1z-mRzGSXHYAlL-tz1_x5VyEnUnqIyyS1xqC7yUxdC0giw/s320/IMG_20230520_145725967_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>The afternoon was really getting on by that point, and we had no idea how long it would take us to get back Southeast to the hotel we’d reserved in Virginia Beach, especially seeing how long it had taken us to get to where we were. We picked up 17 back towards Hampton and then Interstate 64 across the entrance to Chesapeake Bay to Norfolk. We were delighted that the bridge-tunnel across the Roads was not that bad, and then we were dumped onto route 60 through Norfolk and into Virginia Beach, eventually landing at the Quality Inn Little Creek, which was a very nice cheap and shopworn hotel. We were there in front of the crowds but then it filled up quickly.</p><p>Phew, that had been a long Saturday, unexpectedly filled with traffic and crowds. We had set ourselves up for an outrageous road day on Sunday, and we were hoping to get to bed early. Luckily, one of the best dinner options Sarah had found on the web was just a few hundred yards away, and we took a stroll in the searingly sunny late afternoon down to <a href="https://www.facebook.com/olerestaurantemexicano/" target="_blank">Ole! Restaurante</a>, where we were the first dinner guests.</p><p>I had an absolutely delicious tuna and mango dish with delicate rice and beans, and we both had the usual Mexican restaurant drinks. Back to the room and we had a little energy left, so we got out the cribbage board we had brought all that way, and had a fine game I’m sure, though it was getting on and we had sleep on our minds.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigggPv8vrVgoiqC0RDHbRh-pAPNEUn-qEIlIa_SU3ugWTGvVNGTrpsTsOnK5Q3lt2_1xOfPW3HOlBF5zIBy9FKPTlarJiMReNiFEnfrMJohpDcIV6-l8gzXkjW_Ie8uefPxSSfx_7t5Jhv5hIclVLRhlNKx_0YYoh6_0VUhMw1MT31uUWKG9ya8vqZTtst/s4000/IMG_20230520_173253226.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigggPv8vrVgoiqC0RDHbRh-pAPNEUn-qEIlIa_SU3ugWTGvVNGTrpsTsOnK5Q3lt2_1xOfPW3HOlBF5zIBy9FKPTlarJiMReNiFEnfrMJohpDcIV6-l8gzXkjW_Ie8uefPxSSfx_7t5Jhv5hIclVLRhlNKx_0YYoh6_0VUhMw1MT31uUWKG9ya8vqZTtst/s320/IMG_20230520_173253226.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Soon to bed, having traveled 172.7, really challenging miles that day.</p><p> </p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-72579940377671326892023-05-20T10:40:00.027-04:002023-10-07T11:16:02.004-04:0013 States - Long Rainy Beach Day<p>Friday, May 19</p><p>OK, this was going to be our day to get back to the coast and see the beach in North Carolina’s Outer Banks! The thing was, it was still raining hard. But at this point we had no options and figured maybe the bad weather would keep the crowds away. We were wrong.</p><p>First breakfast, hostessed by some wonderful staff. Everyone there was very friendly, maybe a little too friendly and eager to talk to us older types from the North. We got everything packed up and stuffed into the car, ready to change to beach gear from the mountain and swamp gear we’d been using before.</p><p>If you asked Google, the Lady would tell you to get back to the Interstate and head East out 64 to get to the Outer Banks. But we wanted to see stuff, and route 264 from Greenville continues down the Pamlico River and along Pamlico Sound, which is the Southern part of the huge area of ocean bounded by the Outer Banks. We went that way instead and it was deserted and marvelous, though rainy. Endless farms and deserted swamps were on our left and off to our right were small towns with fishing fleets. We drove and drove and drove through a steady, pounding rain, under an overcast, gray-blue sky, on long, straight stretches of road with no billboards, very few other cars, and National Wildlife Refuges to our left and right. This was one of the best driving experiences of the trip.</p><p>We got all the way out past Stumpy Point in Dare County, and then turned North and eventually re-joined route 64 (with its traffic), over the bridge to Roanoke Island. In retrospect, we then should have gone up to Fort Raleigh on Roanoke Island, near where the famous first English settlement in North America was located, and the Virginia Dare mystery occurred. But we were determined to get to Cape Hatteras and possibly Ocracoke Island beyond that. There was an information center on Roanoke Island and after reviewing the distances, roads, and ferries involved we realized there was not enough time left in the day to do all that. But we’d see how far down the Outer Banks we could get before having to turn back North. And we hoped there’d be the possibility of a nice walk on the beach or around the dunes.</p><p>Most of the Southern part of the Outer Banks is the <a href="https://www.nps.gov/caha/index.htm" target="_blank">Cape Hatteras National Seashore</a>, with some towns thrown into the middle of it. I’d been on a family vacation there in March of 1968(?) and remembered it as deserted and quiet. Not in 2023 however! When we turned South on route 12 in Whalebone there was tourist sprawl, expensive restaurants, highway overpasses, and gated communities as far as you could see. We’d been thinking about stopping somewhere for lunch, but the sprawl alarmed us and we decided to head South and see if we could get away from it.</p><p>After a few miles things were looking a lot more sane; this was a beach road like we knew from the Cape or the Big Island, and we started to see intriguing possibilities for a lunch stop. But it was still raining. We stopped at Bodie Island VC (which was actually closed for the Rangers’ lunch) and walked out their boardwalk into the salt marsh. We saw several nutrias in the grasses around the boardwalk and lots of wading birds in the marsh. Still raining, and no covered picnic area. We also looked across the island at Coquina Beach, hoping for a shelter with a nice view. But there was nothing there and the rain got even more intense, so we kept on South over the bridge crossing the Oregon Inlet onto Hatteras Island itself.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg47OVCeNAlsKuHK9nfsgpStWZrQ7m6GmBZNhZVSjrLYo2m655BftLvsy4ORTSgKlWCl9K0hDY1wdSUyCr8tp_kbbey4yXKnmjF_FIZiTFCJ3FmKIr-LvFsXvc_UhnvH-0qCqyIjxEcakb8PZBqe3RkOW0uJLrpFp79JenzPmlmY02wsBR9tWm65yF_pvv9/s4000/IMG_20230519_131857227_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg47OVCeNAlsKuHK9nfsgpStWZrQ7m6GmBZNhZVSjrLYo2m655BftLvsy4ORTSgKlWCl9K0hDY1wdSUyCr8tp_kbbey4yXKnmjF_FIZiTFCJ3FmKIr-LvFsXvc_UhnvH-0qCqyIjxEcakb8PZBqe3RkOW0uJLrpFp79JenzPmlmY02wsBR9tWm65yF_pvv9/s320/IMG_20230519_131857227_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>This was a beautiful stretch, and a few miles down Hatteras Island we saw a pretty empty parking lot for the <a href="https://www.fws.gov/refuge/pea-island" target="_blank">Pea Island National Wildlife Refuge</a>, where we pulled in and were able to get a parking spot where we could see out over the dunes and eat the Mexican food we had in the cooler. A microwave would have been nice, but we were hungry and the food tasted fine.</p><p>Stopped in their VC next, after getting a short view of the stormy Atlantic from their deck. No beach walk today, the onshore gale was ferocious, the heavy rain was horizontal, and the beach there would actually have been dangerous the way the waves were beating the shore. We saw something weird in the water too, inside we learned that this was the remains of one of the boilers of the Oriental, which wrecked there in 1862.</p><p>One volunteer inside had set up expensive binoculars and telescopes for viewing the wildlife in the marsh, and she pointed out a few things for us. Another volunteer had oodles of information about the wildlife and plants we could see on the Outer Banks. And the NWR has a trail system that we would have loved on a sunny day. We wanted to go bird-watching, but it was rainy and foggy and incredibly windy, so we got back in the car and headed further South. Oh well.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8jDEzPX-akzQwy_A_fReC7S6j1Tsg4F6NJaIm-E5faMWOG3soZTSjnVDBezxp1IiX_q0ZsV0vNn-CJFnp1TED4CvHGBpzF15CbJzOOKnBFwx0NEHawp0xkAHJSPtUdtVCe0zz_Eh_GZVyEdJfpzCaPm9tj-TSZvp0s7lhbadkIJy31WD5S01picdTEO0m/s4000/IMG_20230519_141242595_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8jDEzPX-akzQwy_A_fReC7S6j1Tsg4F6NJaIm-E5faMWOG3soZTSjnVDBezxp1IiX_q0ZsV0vNn-CJFnp1TED4CvHGBpzF15CbJzOOKnBFwx0NEHawp0xkAHJSPtUdtVCe0zz_Eh_GZVyEdJfpzCaPm9tj-TSZvp0s7lhbadkIJy31WD5S01picdTEO0m/s320/IMG_20230519_141242595_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Miles and miles of lovely barrier island, interrupted once in a while by a beach town with run-down hotels, wildly expensive real estate, and weird restaurants. We finally made it to Hatteras Island VC itself, and the rain was as bad as ever. They had a sheltered area where we had some time to stretch and view their classy old lighthouse. Stopped in the VC for a quick visit, but soon were back on the return road for the North. The afternoon was almost gone and we had a long way to go.</p><p>When we made it back up to Bodie Island we went back into the lighthouse parking area for a bathroom break, and the VC was now open, so we stopped in. The lighthouse itself was open too, but we would have had to book tickets online and it just didn’t work out. A climb up the lighthouse was tempting, but the visibility would have been a disappointment and it would have been claustrophobic inside, so we opted out. Plenty of other people were looking for things to do in the rain too.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmU7mcuDd7aVV3M1F1jasDwcRFdOuUTP2MPZvkIVScxUuJnjVEll0IKArUD1NwqJVpfL2pRQE6N12sy3ChVEpK6k7FvhsKGBt6cl2KJd1F05FU7mTixuwivTlXWM4N7YC2U_sT3tfqU34u90bI7TDq7kFyYaOxyxSZ48I7FOnGdQluhSzOSQD1f06q_QSu/s4000/IMG_20230519_130718777_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmU7mcuDd7aVV3M1F1jasDwcRFdOuUTP2MPZvkIVScxUuJnjVEll0IKArUD1NwqJVpfL2pRQE6N12sy3ChVEpK6k7FvhsKGBt6cl2KJd1F05FU7mTixuwivTlXWM4N7YC2U_sT3tfqU34u90bI7TDq7kFyYaOxyxSZ48I7FOnGdQluhSzOSQD1f06q_QSu/s320/IMG_20230519_130718777_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Back in the car and as soon as we got North of the National Seashore, the tourist sprawl surrounded us. When my family had rented a seaside shack in Nags Head in the late 60s there had been nothing there but a sleepy two-lane highway, a line of houses next to it, and then the ocean. But now the highway was two mad lanes of speeding traffic on each side, the row of houses was an endless series of gated communities, and the ocean was not in sight. We thought about stopping at the Wright Brothers National Memorial in Kill Devil Hills (I remembered climbing massive sand dunes there). We saw the sign for the National Memorial, but we just wanted to keep on North and see if this oppressive sprawl would end.</p><p>Eventually the road turned West to cross Currituck Sound back to the mainland, and we left the tourist sprawl behind as we motored inland. But it was still miles and miles after that before the traffic calmed down. We stayed on route 158, West towards Elizabeth City when route 168 split off to the North towards the big cities in Southeast Virginia, and most of the traffic kept going that way fortunately. We were back on a rural highway, with huge farms dotting to the left and the right, interrupted by billboards advertising personal injury lawyers, and by small clusters of shops, always including a dollar store and usually a gun store or two.</p><p>The rain finally slowed and then stopped as we drove along, and the late afternoon started turning sunny and warming up. Then, just as we pulled into Elizabeth City after a long day of driving, we saw a sign announcing that the Potato Festival was starting that very day! You can imagine our excitement.</p><p>What is the Potato Festival you ask? Well, the next morning a local waitress (who called herself a proud Elizabeth City resident) was trying to describe it for a couple of tourists. She said, “We have a beautiful downtown you should go see, but oh, you probably shouldn’t try it today because all the streets downtown will be closed for the Potato Festival. Nobody goes to the Festival any more, it’s too crowded. But the kids love it. Some vendors give out free French fries and … well, there’s a potato peeling contest!” She pretty much summed it up right there from our experience.</p><p>Because, we went to the Festival! Kind of. Accidentally. We checked into the Fairfield Inn and Suites, decompressed and hung up our wet clothes, and looked online for a restaurant with a good beer list. The one Sarah found (the Cypress Creek Grill) was right downtown, and though streets were shut down and parking was hard to find, we got a space and managed to find the restaurant. Which as it turns out was right in the middle of the festivities. They were crowded and short-staffed (and the air conditioning was blasting there), but we got an Avdet Hazy IPA and a Raspberry Bramble, and a fine meal.</p><p>The Grill is right on the main town common, and they’d set up a stage at one end and a beer garden at the other. We crossed over to see their harbor on the Pasquotank River, which opens out onto the Albemarle Sound, the big Northern bay of the huge swath of water enclosed by the Outer Banks.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45B64EWiSuBpkvK3RiQ5PiH_xTCvgUg6zDScifO6g5bFqjMpx94n7Z6FLojOQWLDMJt5AGrtMFt5XHdlb-ZdsSmvG5wbX3hfovUjn7OFMD0tRRFBBOA0mbG12-74o-_goiSQoCG3IADAC1at5cM1NtxuYaNOR1-58IonvMCsejkDiSwvzkLc6pr3KGpsf/s4000/IMG_20230519_203043180.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj45B64EWiSuBpkvK3RiQ5PiH_xTCvgUg6zDScifO6g5bFqjMpx94n7Z6FLojOQWLDMJt5AGrtMFt5XHdlb-ZdsSmvG5wbX3hfovUjn7OFMD0tRRFBBOA0mbG12-74o-_goiSQoCG3IADAC1at5cM1NtxuYaNOR1-58IonvMCsejkDiSwvzkLc6pr3KGpsf/s320/IMG_20230519_203043180.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>There was a band doing a very amateurish cover of John Denver’s Country Roads, and a few people in the crowd were singing along. It was a nice scene, but we didn’t spend much time there, found where we’d parked the car, and then got back to the Fairfield Inn for a game of Parks in their breakfast area.</p><p>Quite an exhausting day, but time for bed after traveling 321.5 rainy miles.</p><p> </p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-82120347310196816582023-05-19T10:38:00.013-04:002023-10-07T11:10:29.020-04:0013 States - Long Rainy Road Day<p>Thursday, May 18</p><p>They had a pretty passable breakfast in the very empty and huge SpringHill Suites. All the hotels we patronized on that trip that served eggs and meat for breakfast cooked them very well, and there were sometimes very good pastry selections. They had raspberry and blueberry scones that morning, which were great. But as I say, all the hotels on this trip get mixed reviews. The SpringHill Suites in Orangeburg had outrageously long hallways, slow elevators, and a really weird room layout that tried, unsuccessfully, to make us think we were in a suite.</p><p>It was raining and it was one of those mornings where it looks like the rain is never going to stop. We weren’t daunted and did our morning routine anyway, including refilling the cooler with ice from their machine and cycling dirty laundry into plastic bags. We were pretty good at traveling by this point and laid the Mexican food gingerly on top of the ice and stuff in the cooler. We’d had to throw out earlier leftovers when they tipped into the ice, and the cheese we had in there was getting pretty waterlogged too.</p><p>We hit the road and drove the 40 miles back up North to Congaree, looking for another hike. Because the ground was so wet we decided to stick to the boardwalk this time, which is about a 2.5 mile circuit. I took along an umbrella but closed it soon, we were there to look up into the trees and I really didn’t care if I got a little wet. The silence in the deep swamp with the massive trees and the sound of rain all around was awesome.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ7e7cUNuDgKLw6qh6OIqoZjEmojouj6MfnhgIIhKSMjYRGY_Awaksqt5f7hrf9StUhMEQdVNm0CXcQ6yqRykPyNrQgoOIShiRggY3UIbNgGDtsqc5umGul9zzsAv-a1b0kOFKG6uagU0l6d1uaAZT0imJ3wpBMFwPCmvhlVdqohSfCdchN6ftdewh6GNz/s4000/IMG_20230518_111115204_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ7e7cUNuDgKLw6qh6OIqoZjEmojouj6MfnhgIIhKSMjYRGY_Awaksqt5f7hrf9StUhMEQdVNm0CXcQ6yqRykPyNrQgoOIShiRggY3UIbNgGDtsqc5umGul9zzsAv-a1b0kOFKG6uagU0l6d1uaAZT0imJ3wpBMFwPCmvhlVdqohSfCdchN6ftdewh6GNz/s320/IMG_20230518_111115204_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>There were a few people out, who all walked faster than we did. We saw a lot of wildlife on that hike, including the sad sight of a dead feral pig near the trail and presumably her litter hiding in the woods about 20 yards away, scared of the people. Later on we saw deer, rabbits, and a good number of <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fox_squirrel" target="_blank">fox squirrels</a>, a variant of the squirrel we’d never seen before. There were also many butterflies, millipedes, snails, and slugs, though the skinks were apparently all inside watching TV. We stopped at an overview of an oxbow lake and watched turtles of several species and sizes paddle around like they were going somewhere. They have very nice interpretive signage on the Boardwalk Loop Trail, we found Congaree to be such a charming, small National Park.</p><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz8nqXhooogCm2TZtcK3tpiMeOWkIckON7mp_PMQOFQxDmfE0uGSUN3L1lHa3GK9xXyrwTFU1bJCLW_mLvcOg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p>But it was time to head out and we knew we had a long road in front of us, hoping to get far East in North Carolina before the end of the day. The Google Lady sent us looping back up to the Interstates in Columbia, and we thought that being this close to a big city might mean that we could find a nice restaurant for a good lunch before the road. Sarah found one in the middle of the city, a few blocks from the capitol building, but when we got there it was closed! And the spooky thing was that downtown Columbia was deserted, like a post-apocalyptic movie. This was lunchtime on a weekday, but there were no office workers out and about. It started raining harder.</p><p>But we realized there was another place on that block, a Mediterranean restaurant named Green Olive, at which I got a Greek pilsner and an excellent white bean salad. Sarah got lamb shawarma. Two other tables were occupied and the restaurant was as quiet as a church.</p><p>Time to hit the road out of the deserted city. Interstates 77 and 20 sure weren’t deserted though. They were filled with trucks and it was pouring as we made our way miles and miles East to Interstate 95. And when we got there and started traveling North, all the trucks and rain came with us.</p><p>Finally crossed into North Carolina and the rain let up some, but then the construction started. For all of route 95 in North Carolina, you had a mile of thick traffic going as fast as it could, then a mile of roadwork where the road surface was horrible, the lanes were non-existent, and the traffic sped up! We would break clear and the “roadwork ends” signs would appear, we’d think we were finally out of it, and then a mile later they were back tearing up the highway again. This went on and on, over and over as we hurtled North. Thanks Biden! At one point the Google Lady had us exit onto local roads to circumvent 10 miles of almost stopped traffic.</p><p>Our destination was the Holiday Inn in Greenville and we finally exited 95 onto route 264, but still had 45 or so miles to go before we got there. The rain stuck around all that time, but was just a warm mist by the time we got there and checked into a nice 3rd floor room overlooking the pool in the showing-its-age Holiday Inn. It took us a bit of time to decompress.</p><p>My theory about there being good restaurants in college towns held up this time, and we drove a few miles over to Jack Brown’s Beer & Burger Joint, which was crowded with young adults. The rain had stopped and the evening was suddenly breezy and hot. Had some excellent burgers and fries there from a very efficient waitress, and I had a Spruce Tip IPA from the Amor Artis brewery.</p><p>Back to the hotel and soon to bed, after a wonderful morning walk, lots of rain, and 332.4 grueling miles.</p><div><br /></div>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-40418042397840480082023-05-18T10:37:00.037-04:002023-10-06T15:34:28.073-04:0013 States - A Beautiful Swamp<p>Wednesday, May 17</p><p>There were some strong thunderstorms overnight, and some weird lights focused on our windows, though we couldn’t place the lights in the early morning. Spartanburg was a bit of a strange place. We were definitely in the middle of an Interstate and railroad track (and UFO?) nexus. Train whistles sounded in the distance throughout the stormy night.</p><p>But the funny thing is that we had a good night sleep and we kinda liked the hotel. Mixed reviews of course, but good privacy, a cheery place, and good breakfast. We also liked the fact that they had the community rules (it was a “residence inn” after all) spelled out on the table when we went in. None of them applied to us of course.</p><p>OK, it was going to start off as another driving day. We were in the Northwest part of South Carolina (which is a surprisingly big state) and were bound for the center of it. We were going to <a href="https://www.nps.gov/cong/index.htm" target="_blank">Congaree National Park</a>, which is a bit South of the capital, Columbia. Drove Southeast for a couple of hours from Spartanburg and exited Interstate 77 West of Columbia, onto route 48.</p><p>I’ve referred before to my itch to get out on the roads in the middle of America and cruise way down them and see what was there. South of Columbia was exactly what I wanted. The road was pretty straight and well-maintained and the houses were spaced apart well and all looked lived in if not loved. We saw a lot of brick, one-floor layouts in our trip, and most of them were in pretty good shape. Sometimes you’d see wood shacks that were returning to the earth, but mostly if there was a house it was occupied. Though South Carolina is “solid red” according to the news media, we saw very few indications as to political preference. Thought we’d see a few school committee signs at least, but it was just lawns in various shapes, pickups (and maybe some dead vehicles) in every yard, lots of speed limit and school district signs, and dollar stores. Sarah and I couldn’t believe that so few farms and villages supported so many schools.</p><p>We were far from the mountains now, on flat, flat roads that wound between high vegetation. Eventually we saw a few signs for Congaree NP and pulled in. We’d arrived at a weird time for the NP. <a href="https://www.nps.gov/cong/fireflies.htm" target="_blank">Synchronous fireflies</a> (not making this up) assemble there in late May and this phenomenon took top priority at the Park, fireflies more important than visitors. But we were free to explore until 4PM, which we did.</p><p>We started at the Hampton VC (the only one, it’s a small Park) and they have a great film, which stoked our enthusiasm. They also have some great displays there. One we loved showed an array of trees you find in the Park, facts about them and specs on the champions in each category.</p><p>Congaree is basically a swamp, a huge floodplain in which water levels can vary by six feet. It’s on the long plains that extend from the base of the mountains we were just in to the Atlantic, and host slow-moving rivers that become the big port rivers of South Carolina and Georgia. A timber baron from Chicago bought the whole area after the Civil War, but for various reasons didn’t clearcut it, and his descendants kind of forgot about the place. It was eventually saved by locals such as newspaperman Harry Hampton, who realized that it had become one of the largest stands of old-growth trees left in the East and lobbied for its preservation.</p><p>It was an overcast, hot and humid day when we got there, and we loved Congaree in spite of this. They had a “mosquito meter,” but it was laughable. They think a couple of mosquitos warrants a high alert level? They should see the woods of New England. A volunteer talked to us as soon as we arrived and laid out our options for a hike. The funny thing was when I asked about “feral hogs” he thought I said “hawks” and much confusion ensued. Yeah, he admitted that feral pigs were a problem there but that they were generally not far descended from domestic stock and they took off at the sight/sound of humans.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWD6IefJ5v3PaIRFbyblxj4jxmHv5AT7FSeKl1IbKuIiJC55gUPbAZJpqY3OTrYES66r1Q-5zJ992Ln_HyeXFyNZx7l_FDbIOmNofDNqiNB2yFLQBezNP5jzxFK7W2_ddGf0Oc-IOuyulZiHl5pAytinpkMNCHoyNN43G9AOSrvEjxIaBP3BWZ-VN7tXt/s4000/IMG_20230517_123014404_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirWD6IefJ5v3PaIRFbyblxj4jxmHv5AT7FSeKl1IbKuIiJC55gUPbAZJpqY3OTrYES66r1Q-5zJ992Ln_HyeXFyNZx7l_FDbIOmNofDNqiNB2yFLQBezNP5jzxFK7W2_ddGf0Oc-IOuyulZiHl5pAytinpkMNCHoyNN43G9AOSrvEjxIaBP3BWZ-VN7tXt/s320/IMG_20230517_123014404_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>After the great film, some exhibit time, and a nice talk with the Ranger and book store person, we took off for the Boardwalk Loop Trail (you have to start on that) and then decamped to the Sims Trail as soon as we could, on a very low dike cut through the forest, very gently downhill towards the Congaree River. We were surrounded by Swamp Tupelos, Bald Cypresses, Loblolly Pines, and many species of oak, ash, and beech. For many of these species there is a Champion Tree in Congaree, the most majestic specimen of that type, calculated by formulae that take into consideration height, mass, girth, spread of canopy, etc. It didn’t take many “will you look at that?” trees for us to walk a little slower and realize we were in a hall of ancients.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4pDayeCeRliWMqqmo6Q4H3LFhxDtYoyjKPDnm7fcdxZ8U5p2JUV7bK6vFWBhM7xYsUIEFImtPRB2lDRh-igRUOlDbAT-wF20GeNmJXn_OzL5vySRKDTODku4e6Q1bBUGx8ziUoPq4oDS9rGslZ76XBOAoqkf4nmZjIaNQmmae9SbUbaLunDxetVoWb6Z/s4000/IMG_20230517_125937333.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG4pDayeCeRliWMqqmo6Q4H3LFhxDtYoyjKPDnm7fcdxZ8U5p2JUV7bK6vFWBhM7xYsUIEFImtPRB2lDRh-igRUOlDbAT-wF20GeNmJXn_OzL5vySRKDTODku4e6Q1bBUGx8ziUoPq4oDS9rGslZ76XBOAoqkf4nmZjIaNQmmae9SbUbaLunDxetVoWb6Z/s320/IMG_20230517_125937333.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>Besides the living trees, there was switch cane and rhododendron bushes, vines, and some huge bushes of honeysuckle and other ground cover in the spaces left by dead trees. But basically it was thousands of huge, magical, venerable, and dirty trees popping up from the mud, clay, and sand. We were a little surprised how many people were out on the trails, but for a change we let them all pass us by as we wandered along, stunned and delighted by the giants. The Bald Cypresses rose up and up and then exploded into crowns of delicate needles. There were plenty of fallen trees as well as living ones, with bark etched by worms, some trees sprouting fungi we’d never seen before.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9rujKy6uGYzO1dIumVfdt0BUqzI4YnSKmtV29L8L7RQwd-zMlJKDoDM_DolgIiTLs20Ezqs7qCUBxIRdlKd6LenyqG2sdoqYo9Pj1y9mhL2lYnMBm_HlQhO-GE7ATVDAINWYjmdAtVeh7ncTqyemXuyHG4DvSJ4f663DltnQ4NytZTEfspH1_vFMhOEQ/s4000/IMG_20230517_130031464_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9rujKy6uGYzO1dIumVfdt0BUqzI4YnSKmtV29L8L7RQwd-zMlJKDoDM_DolgIiTLs20Ezqs7qCUBxIRdlKd6LenyqG2sdoqYo9Pj1y9mhL2lYnMBm_HlQhO-GE7ATVDAINWYjmdAtVeh7ncTqyemXuyHG4DvSJ4f663DltnQ4NytZTEfspH1_vFMhOEQ/s320/IMG_20230517_130031464_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>There was a cultural aspect to the Park too. Groups of escaped enslaved people formed communities in the South Carolina swamps, where slave catchers would have to put up with some hostility from nature to catch them. We were blessed that day to hear and see many species of birds, lots of colorful skinks running up and down the infrastructure of the boardwalk, and to see a ring-tailed raccoon, meandering along one of the guts (ephemeral creeks). And you have to see <a href="https://arboretum.harvard.edu/stories/cypress-knees-an-enduring-enigma/" target="_blank">cypress knees</a> or you will not believe them.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CGqEBcXqJ81277crgn5vOny7lYmKaQmXTignF7o20m0vi0ngsO50ImUIb8zudq76Ja_5mXzVLVT8oCnrqKopl3zomQ1VmkU7q-AUQ1z4TS1RocwDdNJ6TTI9YRc401WXIFix-5wNeaMC1bcTEm3jeyKe8fOe2VFCyOj2kqEw-xG9MkdFsqRHzgepqkKP/s4000/IMG_20230517_134739002_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8CGqEBcXqJ81277crgn5vOny7lYmKaQmXTignF7o20m0vi0ngsO50ImUIb8zudq76Ja_5mXzVLVT8oCnrqKopl3zomQ1VmkU7q-AUQ1z4TS1RocwDdNJ6TTI9YRc401WXIFix-5wNeaMC1bcTEm3jeyKe8fOe2VFCyOj2kqEw-xG9MkdFsqRHzgepqkKP/s320/IMG_20230517_134739002_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>From the Sims Trail we took a left on the Weston Lake Trail, which ran along Cedar Creek, which in some place was moving but in others seemed to us to just be sitting there. There isn’t much vertical drop to excite the water around there, except when it really backs up and covers the boardwalk and trails. The funny thing is that there is some elevation change and you can tell it by the underbrush, which changes a lot with just a vertical foot’s difference. There were also lots of pellets of debris probably from owls, mounds of mud made by insects, and animal holes. Probably not a great place to camp; we didn’t see any snakes but knew they were close by.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikmGr66_jakarig6lyqUAqVNzt_4Piyyu6ainLC1TVx7S8T8PumF4ZJPp8gq8awrf3zL8S96PXDeCRdvoZwYNizXlvO271_LZyB2e8uldfFqniFisdCjI9kzGyo0WCHs0KMgpi-9UCB0r4LqFI-e7y8LMxsiXcZX4HpFT9LuvUx8kjP_TVza9twj363H3t/s1600/IMG_20230517_134555582_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikmGr66_jakarig6lyqUAqVNzt_4Piyyu6ainLC1TVx7S8T8PumF4ZJPp8gq8awrf3zL8S96PXDeCRdvoZwYNizXlvO271_LZyB2e8uldfFqniFisdCjI9kzGyo0WCHs0KMgpi-9UCB0r4LqFI-e7y8LMxsiXcZX4HpFT9LuvUx8kjP_TVza9twj363H3t/s320/IMG_20230517_134555582_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>A couple of even lazier guts ran into the creek, and these are reconfigured with each flood. When the area floods the water level can rise by up to six feet and we could see rings on the trees that high. Foot bridges had been built here and there over the wettest places, and after one we took a detour down a social trail to the right that the Ranger had told us about. She said the current Champion Loblolly Pine was down there and when we found it, it was majestic. We came pretty close to hugging a few trees that day, they welcomed us to their swamp and we felt blessed.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dzVIMFWp9QoxiW6xe8UW9IAkYeMMpfUdT-G_d-3lStkD1_nNQX_YcP8ZABxNVyjdwNnVU2ADJLiigdZL84h4w' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p>Looped back around to a short stretch of the boardwalk trail, and then rejoined the Sims Trail up to the Firefly Trail to return to the Harry Hampton VC. In all we did about a 6 mile circuit and though it had been very level, the temperature and humidity were both getting up there and we were very glad to pop back into the air-conditioned VC for a bit.</p><p>Back out to the car after that and they had a nest of nice picnic tables in the shade, totally deserted. We grabbed one and had a very late and mellow PB&J lunch. There was a hard stop at 4:00 for all visitors so they wouldn’t disturb the gathering synchronous fireflies, and the Park started to close down by 3:45 or so, just as we were ready to leave. One of the best things about small, modest, beautiful Parks like this is knowing you’re coming back, and we were definitely going back there the next day!</p><p>Horrible news reached us as we continued East on route 48 in Gadsden, and then South on 601. Our nephew had died in a household accident and we realized we wouldn’t be able to get back up North in time for his funeral.</p><p>More middle of nowhere in South Carolina, heading down to the SpringHill Suites by Marriott in Orangeburg. Congaree is so remote that the nearest hotels are back North in Columbia or 40 miles South, just North of Orangeburg, and we opted for the smaller town. We lucked out on a great dinner place, going to <a href="https://rosaliasmexfood.com/" target="_blank">Rosalía’s</a> right in the middle of Orangeburg, as far South as we got on the trip. Sarah had a house margarita and I got a huge mug of Dos Equis and their House Special, a 10-ounce ribeye steak with six shrimp. I probably ate less than half of it and Sarah couldn’t finish her dinner either, so we took out a huge thing of meat, rice, and beans, which we made good use of later.</p><p>Back to the second floor of the SpringHill Suites and soon to bed, after traveling 186.1 miles that day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVrsjmrvdWdyIR_PxwIjGnPvn5mzSwPDGg5ZHdTxCLOE8_zbQBdSN7AnCEsACgWfZAMNPeqyKV3LVKmMuCH4muBNv8Na0H7Nis80rQioUzApAA2ahOfGBlJePmHY4LIY-GF8WC84eJBN7MPAewoBuSJLVMLq0YvlauFsQoAwPHIT81SfzsQaPoVj3S5OY/s4000/IMG_20230517_135331554_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaVrsjmrvdWdyIR_PxwIjGnPvn5mzSwPDGg5ZHdTxCLOE8_zbQBdSN7AnCEsACgWfZAMNPeqyKV3LVKmMuCH4muBNv8Na0H7Nis80rQioUzApAA2ahOfGBlJePmHY4LIY-GF8WC84eJBN7MPAewoBuSJLVMLq0YvlauFsQoAwPHIT81SfzsQaPoVj3S5OY/s320/IMG_20230517_135331554_HDR.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p><br /></p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-10609730891701624832023-05-17T10:34:00.047-04:002023-10-06T15:26:57.165-04:0013 States - Over the Mountains To South Carolina<p>Tuesday, May 16</p><p>I do exercises every morning for my back stenosis, and I’ve been having knee and hip issues (arthritis), so the physical therapist has assigned me a lot more. So early morning is a production for me, even more so on the road. But I eventually got down to breakfast with Sarah and coffee, and explored what we could do that day.</p><p>The Ranger who had given us some great tips on Monday had also mentioned the Grotto Falls on the Trillium Gap Trail, apparently because of where we were staying. This is on a driving loop trail from Gatlinburg, near the hotel, and we realized we could do that loop and maybe hike down to the falls that morning, depending on what time it was when we got there, and still have time for other stops on our way to South Carolina.</p><p>BIG MISTAKE!!! Do not commit to the Fork Motor Nature Trail unless you want to eat your liver out. We waved a few cars in front of us at the beginning of that trail, initially enchanted by the mosses and ferns. But then we caught up to those same cars and we followed them in a line of brake lights for the next 10 miles.</p><p>The road wound up 5 miles or so to the Trillium Gap Trail (parking lots full at 9AM on a Tuesday so we didn’t stop), and then 5 miles down back into town. There were some beautiful woodside moments all right and Sarah took some pictures, but we were in a fucking line of traffic! I have no idea how many cars there were in front of me or behind me, or whether those are rational numbers. We probably averaged under 5MPH for that 10-mile section. At times people were turning off their cars and getting out while (e.g.) a huge mini-van dispersed everyone on a particular turn, so they could take selfies and panoramas of the woods that might hold bears (not).</p><p>Well, there were some good moments there but we’d just wasted a couple of hours. We drove back through town, being careful not to run over any distracted Gatlinburg pedestrians in our rush to get out of there. We stopped at a gas station, and let me digress to say that there wasn’t really much difference in gas prices in all of the 13 states we visited. I realized it would be more of an effort than it would be worth it to try to psych out where to refill, we just let the tank run down to a quarter or so and that dictated where we got gas. I didn’t feel ripped off at any of the stations, particularly, though many places disguised their actual credit prices.</p><p>OK, we entered GSMNP for the last(?) time, stopped at Sugarlands VC for a day parking voucher, and then headed Southeast for the heights of the park, up to the North Carolina border. At the crest of the ridge of the Smokies is a big junction of the borders of TN and NC and the AT (Appalachian Trail). This is Newfound Gap, and again, the crowds had preceded us there.</p><p>The weather hadn’t bothered us much on the driving trail that morning, but was unsettled. By the time we got up to Newfound Gap there seemed to be a little electricity in the air, and the clouds were starting to swirl through the gap at 5000 feet. We were lucky to get a prime parking spot (the lot was full and cars were circling), but gave it up soon as it turned out. After climbing their monument with a hundred psyched people of various sorts, and several AT hikers who wanted to check it off in their personal records, we decided to opt out. The flagstones were loose, the walkways were packed, kids and strollers were everywhere, and we got out of there before there was an accident … or a lightning strike.</p><p>Where we were headed was Clingmans Dome, the summit of the Park, but we expected that the thunderstorms would get there before we did. And we figured there’d be a whole lot of people up there too, and we were right.</p><p>It was a beautiful drive up to the peak at 6643 feet, though the clouds were threatening and the fog was closing in, and we didn’t really get there. Conifers dominated the creases in the mountains, like they hadn’t down below, and so it was a new shade of green. I swear we weren’t that far away from thunderstorm weather, though a Ranger was telling people that the electricity wouldn’t start until that afternoon.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72OT0Wu5_00M4NMyGIRo6YIshUY6PkWxCwvhNE1lX-IH5ERHOHjMvmrDFSjQwG_gdCw1IEG4nUYPBnDzTxsjuAji2TnozEI2pYvaAogwRP7LRlne8q8dJkriRRPmF6yOJY4dWiI8yXkr3z1TYitsKEnhdOH7K-PSd4TGcSe4tTNB9b7BW17LrunC4UdLk/s4000/IMG_20230516_123444151_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh72OT0Wu5_00M4NMyGIRo6YIshUY6PkWxCwvhNE1lX-IH5ERHOHjMvmrDFSjQwG_gdCw1IEG4nUYPBnDzTxsjuAji2TnozEI2pYvaAogwRP7LRlne8q8dJkriRRPmF6yOJY4dWiI8yXkr3z1TYitsKEnhdOH7K-PSd4TGcSe4tTNB9b7BW17LrunC4UdLk/s320/IMG_20230516_123444151_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We got a space in the huge parking lot, one of the only ones left. We were psyched and geared up, we were going to hike up to Clingman’s Dome and the observation platforms there. But so were many other people of various body shapes and sizes, it was like the Laurel Falls trail the other day, even worse. Did these people not realize that the current fog and the imminent lightning might detract seriously from their visit? I have to say, we realized that, short of being oblivious to the weather, many people just didn’t care. They were going to go to Clingmans Dome for better or worse, goldarnit, and hopefully snap some selfies when they got there. I really admired the spirit (the gift shop was doing a brisk business selling sweatshirts and raincoats to the unprepared people clad in sandals and t-shirts), but Sarah and I, after going a few hundred yards up the crowded trail and realizing it would not be a nature experience, decided to head back to the car. Actually, she went to the small VC and I went to the port-a-potty lines.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-mbo3uMtAOtBQtpRgZsKCt9h92RRMEO0pD6SDmutYzJmt5fi_0W732kaQq9x_H7iPAI3dKjFj5gaonATn8ymzgatULwIHnQPkWNPjdDr3TlvtZmXjdETt18vIZzdiiqgbcanweTwmynMZr6MwoY41ZJva6nnqwteU5HEMb_pTJwfflf28Chibh0pARYt/s4000/IMG_20230516_130045128_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW-mbo3uMtAOtBQtpRgZsKCt9h92RRMEO0pD6SDmutYzJmt5fi_0W732kaQq9x_H7iPAI3dKjFj5gaonATn8ymzgatULwIHnQPkWNPjdDr3TlvtZmXjdETt18vIZzdiiqgbcanweTwmynMZr6MwoY41ZJva6nnqwteU5HEMb_pTJwfflf28Chibh0pARYt/s320/IMG_20230516_130045128_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Back at the car I cracked the bag of Doritos and sat there on the back hatch, watching the clouds (which suddenly seemed less threatening) and eating Doritos while waiting for Sarah. Thus, to several groups of tourists from various States, I was the enduring symbol of Clingman’s Dome as they exited the parking lot. One driver yelled at his wife, “Hey! He’s eating Doritos. We shoulda brought some.” I thought about flipping him off, but instead just smiled and gave him a big shrug, like it was a TV commercial and he was the loser.</p><p>So, back in the car and we shot down from Clingmans Dome, now in North Carolina rather than Tennessee, on the Newfound Gap Road, headed for the Oconaluftee VC. We thought we might find a little more space in the North Carolina part of the Park. The trees and the whole feel were different as we descended mile and miles of switchbacks down the Southeast side of the Appalachians. Finally we got down to the Oconaluftee Valley and to the genteel VC … only to find very few spaces there and have it be crawling with people!</p><p>We were dying to stop somewhere nice for a PB&J lunch out of our ice chest, but there weren’t any picnic tables there and the crowds and sudden heat from the bright day (no storm clouds in this valley) were oppressive. We had planned to go from there back to the Blue Ridge Parkway after lunch, but instead we gave up on the VC immediately and got back on the road Southeast. In a few hundred yards were signs to turn off for the Parkway, we were the only car to do so and suddenly we were back in a beautiful and deserted world.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQMLVkzayLRHViHPmjD1zY-Cq-B-cmHZGjWenEkha2qgr8NQz6-bE3fiDEhNbwEz4l1TPkXGYkYPr-G7UGBb7tbz4r_uUwUtJu8BmVZxcSFzRLrhAzHNw_7PJa3c158QahtSvMH02JG4gAQv9N7ZzN4A6XygLOiotR8KWycIa1AzC2i5p15dddss1KUqN/s4000/IMG_20230516_135155966_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNQMLVkzayLRHViHPmjD1zY-Cq-B-cmHZGjWenEkha2qgr8NQz6-bE3fiDEhNbwEz4l1TPkXGYkYPr-G7UGBb7tbz4r_uUwUtJu8BmVZxcSFzRLrhAzHNw_7PJa3c158QahtSvMH02JG4gAQv9N7ZzN4A6XygLOiotR8KWycIa1AzC2i5p15dddss1KUqN/s320/IMG_20230516_135155966_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>GSMNP has some great strengths, and we loved the largeness of it, the secret trail we’d experienced, the raging Little River, and the knowledge that there were plenty of other discoveries there. But golly, did they have a lot of people enjoying the Park. This is the audience the NPS is chartered to serve … Americans … and they were doing a great job of it, and we think this is admirable. We also love the “preserve” part of the <a href="https://www.nps.gov/subjects/archeology/antiquities-act.htm" target="_blank">Antiquities Act</a> and were delighted to see attempts at preservation in GSMNP. But that Park was not for us because of its scale and popularity.</p><p>The funny thing was, when we turned onto the Parkway it was like we’d gone through a portal to a different world. We pulled over as soon as possible, at the Oconaluftee River Overlook, and were pretty much across the river from the Oconaluftee VC, which had been packed and frantic while our overlook was deserted, and much quieter. We had a fine lunch, looking up at the steep mountains to our West.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_sM8QsxSj2Dk5LefOgov_kpz8Q6tF4EtyP9cqq8zIUNiRNIUgnsR-ckqJhlfDXCbWfGB3PSElsDi5PSNb8bXvTmmg_tYSAL6-ArdRM6m2XSV5aB4-gpY57uM06rHza2-EaGCc4u0E8mtlOrmPhIN9ZoSbtZk5mpP6vJvt3REQUa1nkOrLlTP078M0I5Ed/s4000/IMG_20230516_135304076_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_sM8QsxSj2Dk5LefOgov_kpz8Q6tF4EtyP9cqq8zIUNiRNIUgnsR-ckqJhlfDXCbWfGB3PSElsDi5PSNb8bXvTmmg_tYSAL6-ArdRM6m2XSV5aB4-gpY57uM06rHza2-EaGCc4u0E8mtlOrmPhIN9ZoSbtZk5mpP6vJvt3REQUa1nkOrLlTP078M0I5Ed/s320/IMG_20230516_135304076_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Time to gush about the Blue Ridge Parkway again. We got on at the South terminus, but even though we were “Northbound” on the Parkway, the road headed South and East for another forty miles or so. And these miles were as glorious as those we’d traveled on the other end of the Blue Ridge. We stopped at a lot of overlooks and just drank in the views of the rolling mountains, the parades of Springtime green up to the high elevations, and the incredible afternoon light, perhaps made more dramatic by the dark clouds on the mountains we were leaving behind. We stopped at the highest point on the Blue Ridge at 6053 feet.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHy9rkj29_7mw-MmbtX3gSnFayUd7P8c1EspxoX0DAaae08cRtut9WllLiz3anZ5OfTc3LlrPsdQmh1uA0e2krCkm4GJ5IbZczlufP_MRHKligDSRldGEYq6SrVgA2la5yGJwW4B9nnHGd6SKMIngtkCNQn-ibOj1DrK7UYzRc5Uom6oibV5vSChG2NPH/s4000/IMG_20230516_144426788_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIHy9rkj29_7mw-MmbtX3gSnFayUd7P8c1EspxoX0DAaae08cRtut9WllLiz3anZ5OfTc3LlrPsdQmh1uA0e2krCkm4GJ5IbZczlufP_MRHKligDSRldGEYq6SrVgA2la5yGJwW4B9nnHGd6SKMIngtkCNQn-ibOj1DrK7UYzRc5Uom6oibV5vSChG2NPH/s320/IMG_20230516_144426788_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We’d been living in world of people and Interstate highways for several days, and were exhilarated to be free of that, in arguably a more lovely environment. We were up on the ridge, looking South and East to the <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Qualla_Boundary" target="_blank">Qualla Boundary of the Eastern Cherokee</a>. We must have stopped at a dozen overlooks and the average “other car” number there must have been about 0.5. The road itself was mostly a solitary experience, though there were spotty packs of motorcyclists and a good number of sports cars. Some people were out there for a fast cruise around the dramatic corners rather than a leisurely drive, but it all worked.</p><p>We got all the way up to the <a href="https://www.pisgahinn.com/" target="_blank">Pisgah Inn</a> area soon after the highest point, and soon after the Looking Glass Rock Overlook [https://www.nps.gov/places/looking-glass-rock-overlook.htm] and then realized that we’d missed our exit. No reception for the Google Lady up there. In some ways we wanted to follow the Blue Ridge all the way back to Waynesboro (wait a minute!), but in other ways we knew we needed to jump off and head due South, like now. We suddenly didn’t have a lot of time to get to our destination of Spartanburg SC.</p><p>We turned off the Parkway onto route 276, going down and down and down past the Cradle of Forestry site, in the middle of Pisgah National Forest. This was an incredible rush of the season getting further and further along as we descended, and the sun getting brighter and brighter as the afternoon progressed. We just had to stop at the Looking Glass Rock Scenic Area, where there’s a spectacular falls right off the road. We walked up to the falls, snapped a few pix, and then took off again, along route 64 in the depths of furthest Southwest North Carolina.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dykrJyUm0AwvH08fZCTVtoU3BvzgupJuWOdlu3jtABbxGi6fa6N-t5AynMCGGCBRSONC3cfw7XYFzG09ioUng' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p>Serendipity struck again, and there was a supermarket on the route, just when we needed it. We got beer, cider, and water, figuring that our stock of PB&J would hold up. Soon after that it was back on Interstate 26 Southeast, eventually into South Carolina, and after many more miles than expected, we pulled into the Residence Inn by Marriott. According to the front desk clerk, this was the original “residence inn.” The rooms were actually suites, upstairs and downstairs in densely packed townhouses surrounding a common pool and recreation area. We got a suite with a kitchen and a full-sized refrigerator. Too bad we were only there for a night because we liked the place and could have gotten more dishes dirty. And we only had a few things to put in the refrigerator.</p><p>The bad news was that there was really nowhere better to eat dinner than at the Cracker Barrel across the parking lot. We made the best of a bad situation though and had a nice dinner at Cracker Barrel, with a Budweiser and a Bundaberg ginger beer. They cook everything there very delicately, and use tasteless ingredients, and this is very successful. Their aim seems to be to offend no one’s palate, which ideal was worth experiencing once.</p><p>Seemed like we drove a lot more than the odometer said, but the final reading that day was 174 miles, many of them winding up and down mountain roads.</p><div><br /></div>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-58751814680811026862023-05-16T10:32:00.047-04:002023-10-06T15:19:03.558-04:0013 States - The Little River In GSMNP<p>Monday, May 15</p><p>We were in a Hampton Inn and so of course the breakfast and the sunny and spacious breakfast room was what you’d expect from a Hampton Inn, and we were soothed by that. We gritted our teeth for what we’d find outside though, packed up for the day (we were going to stay in that room two nights, so packing was easy), and headed out through the tourist town for the most visited National Park in the country, hoping that a Monday in a shoulder season (school in session still) would be fine.</p><p>National Parks need to get revenue from visitors and sometimes approach it differently. Some, like Acadia and Shenandoah, charge high entrance fees. This is partly because there are not a lot of ways to enter the Parks, and so the revenue stream can be controlled. Others, like <a href="https://www.nps.gov/grsm/index.htm" target="_blank">Great Smoky Mountains National Park</a>, have many entrances and have to get revenue from visitors in other ways. GSMNP charged parking fees: you had to get a pass each day (you could buy weekly and monthly ones) and this was not covered by my Parks pass. But whatever, we squeezed into one of the last parking places at the Sugarlands VC after somehow getting out of already happening downtown Gatlinburg, and were glad to buy a day parking pass at the kiosk. We support our Parks. The other visitors were mostly older couples from the South, very young families with pre-school kids, or groups from other countries.</p><p>I have to say that, though it was a crowd experience, I was thrilled to be in the main VC of the most popular National Park in the country, a place I’d wanted to visit for a long time. Though it was pretty packed, we didn’t have to wait in line to talk to a Ranger since most of the people there were after the restrooms or the gift shop. I told the guy, “We’ve read on your website about the most popular trails in the Park.” He nodded, perhaps weighing my Northern accent. “But what we want is a 3-5 mile trail that *isn’t* popular.” He nodded again.</p><p>As it turned out, we were visitors from Massachusetts and his mother was a Yankees fan who would give him a hard time for assisting the enemy. But we told him that actually we were Bruins fans, and that was ok. He was too and we commiserated. His first recommendation was the Laurel Falls Trail, but he got excited when he said what he really recommended was the Little River Trail, which told us what we wanted to know. He gave us directions to both.</p><p>I wanted to buy a hat at one of the Parks we hadn’t been to before, and I scored a nice one in their gift shop. We then went to the map kiosk and picked up the maps we needed for a few bucks. As I say, they needed to make revenue somehow.</p><p>Though we’d had some overcast weather the last few days and it was forecast to continue, it was a fine, partly cloudy day with some patches of brilliant sunshine. And the temperature was not bad. We’d packed for very hot days in Tennessee and the Carolinas, but with the elevation we were at the temperature stayed in the low 70s. And though there’d been rain recently, the humidity was no problem. We had brought bug spray, but this was nowhere near the bug level you get on a sunny Spring day in New England.</p><p>OK, we got out of the frantic Sugarlands VC (one of the circling cars grabbed our space right away) and headed Southwest on the Little River Road. After a few miles we were just able to snag a legal parking space in the Laurel Falls lot, and we geared up and headed up that trail.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCk1smTFs-Q5bvLmCz4FnrugKjzM_sLLbMGdx3nBHi_VFCLu35X9-mWbD4e0DpAwpAXm-YbPl2Zke-T1Lk18TCz_JdyoAoFnZQonGSZ-wWQFiCy7CZzMqPdLwyo9WauunrI4WoY7hfZgjM8_4e9lPFar6-35fcv8PYXFt458qSj1xw9pGk_DRhJqBaTox/s1600/IMG_20230515_090855438_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxCk1smTFs-Q5bvLmCz4FnrugKjzM_sLLbMGdx3nBHi_VFCLu35X9-mWbD4e0DpAwpAXm-YbPl2Zke-T1Lk18TCz_JdyoAoFnZQonGSZ-wWQFiCy7CZzMqPdLwyo9WauunrI4WoY7hfZgjM8_4e9lPFar6-35fcv8PYXFt458qSj1xw9pGk_DRhJqBaTox/s320/IMG_20230515_090855438_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We were so delighted to be in the Great Smoky Mountains and to see the laurel and other flowering plants blooming gloriously all around us! There were plenty of others on the trail and the Park maintenance guys had apparently tried to pave it in the distant past, though the pavement that was left after years of neglect and erosion was treacherous sometimes. We realized that the Ranger had steered us first to a well-used trail, which was fine with us because it was a good introduction to the Park. Many people on the trail were at their limit, climbing up the steep switchbacks but nevertheless enjoying themselves like you wouldn’t believe. It was a parade of families with strollers(!) and older couples with a very few fitter types, all climbing up the sharp incline towards the falls on a glorious day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0eEwVTjf0cN62HR1TLdzJSL8FVZABqXMc8yh-KCrgoE-py-kfQtk6tv5rDpcUo9gpTbnzU6CjwegcrrCvS2SN_HvnYCDvr6tGcyHb47fq2DOrhFnEa1V8jJSt_AE7TZON4VLb9CS2MPCIwIgqSCy-P2yuQckMONPtK5DoC28O0FGyeWHA3IVvD1S9ui7/s4000/IMG_20230515_094758541_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz0eEwVTjf0cN62HR1TLdzJSL8FVZABqXMc8yh-KCrgoE-py-kfQtk6tv5rDpcUo9gpTbnzU6CjwegcrrCvS2SN_HvnYCDvr6tGcyHb47fq2DOrhFnEa1V8jJSt_AE7TZON4VLb9CS2MPCIwIgqSCy-P2yuQckMONPtK5DoC28O0FGyeWHA3IVvD1S9ui7/s320/IMG_20230515_094758541_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Didn’t see any wildlife on that trail (except a millipede), and didn’t expect to. But we saw lots of flora and some exposed cliffs. We also saw lots of people and kind of enjoyed watching them. As I say, a lot of the tourists were huffing and puffing but were mostly enjoying pushing themselves. On the way down, we saw a Search and Rescue crew going up the trail after a person who’d apparently sprained his/her ankle. This was apparently a routine day at the Park.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYD-GkpmCXwGM_DxzC9ivNcWYdfNcjdCdl5PRItyPcUVkLrhXPj8Oz2AmmH4c7XUC0iIqTiM1MEmvB8t8DZOdyvCDUr8a_Ix_blihgUMcbkTAC5VY8Q8r-AENE_R9DWgB640wfHtpzsuYpa_WLvTjFIxCW39Bmkpf-fYyTttzR0gTtsDBMFv-fCSbz8NgR/s4000/IMG_20230515_101955438.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYD-GkpmCXwGM_DxzC9ivNcWYdfNcjdCdl5PRItyPcUVkLrhXPj8Oz2AmmH4c7XUC0iIqTiM1MEmvB8t8DZOdyvCDUr8a_Ix_blihgUMcbkTAC5VY8Q8r-AENE_R9DWgB640wfHtpzsuYpa_WLvTjFIxCW39Bmkpf-fYyTttzR0gTtsDBMFv-fCSbz8NgR/s320/IMG_20230515_101955438.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We reached the Laurel Falls and they were ok, not really worth the climb. But hordes of poorly-balanced people were trying to take pictures and that plateau on the rocks did not look like a good place to stop, so we kept moving up the trail. On the way down we saw one tourist slip at the base of the falls and crack his camera on the rock, at least he didn’t crack his head or slip down the couple-of-hundred feet to the chasm below. Signs warned us that people had died there and so we should restrain our kids.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R6Un4p1bIqhiYH4an70SjXTT4fuA_hg3VfsJyXkrwRvMalheanDv2_Ms68VLtfhbUx7XLMKaT_dV0ke82pz873O7-yCDyXNukH_NJoFo73kFp6k0Vth3PqElCM8YLo01p-VlrYbdD9XTmQo1rEawdJcZdHrXxqBz9Z6IWF6GCwFd9KX5OsEydn4262OD/s4000/IMG_20230515_100949848_BURST000_COVER.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R6Un4p1bIqhiYH4an70SjXTT4fuA_hg3VfsJyXkrwRvMalheanDv2_Ms68VLtfhbUx7XLMKaT_dV0ke82pz873O7-yCDyXNukH_NJoFo73kFp6k0Vth3PqElCM8YLo01p-VlrYbdD9XTmQo1rEawdJcZdHrXxqBz9Z6IWF6GCwFd9KX5OsEydn4262OD/s320/IMG_20230515_100949848_BURST000_COVER.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Up past the falls the hordes disappeared and we kept on going for a while, hoping for a good vista of the surrounding mountains somewhere. But everything was mostly leafed out and though we were up high we were still in a jungle of trees and flowering shrubs. Got to a couple of places where we could barely peek out and see the valley, but then bagged and went back downhill. It was longer to the parking lot than we’d thought by this time.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-YnW6zbMgRlIXd3YY399YRDs8zywYD-Z7OoCOEzAeH3IDJ5B5yt1tmpABvqLR5pTaPG9W6jCA-FOVuxIqLR7rzj4GBFVZemGo-yqVFl0SnLumF85h9IyRqXgjryzsbDGu4VznkhnUviv0VDWEucBAiqRivoEvl1T_hgp6lkkIEHJ0ipaHMyYISft8Gmh/s4000/IMG_20230515_110410175_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib-YnW6zbMgRlIXd3YY399YRDs8zywYD-Z7OoCOEzAeH3IDJ5B5yt1tmpABvqLR5pTaPG9W6jCA-FOVuxIqLR7rzj4GBFVZemGo-yqVFl0SnLumF85h9IyRqXgjryzsbDGu4VznkhnUviv0VDWEucBAiqRivoEvl1T_hgp6lkkIEHJ0ipaHMyYISft8Gmh/s320/IMG_20230515_110410175_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>OK, now for the Little River Trail, and hopefully a good wilderness experience in the Nation’s most visited Park, and it sure was! To get there you go by Elkmont, one of the major campsites in the Park. The Ranger had told us that if the first parking lot was full (which it was), go on to the second. This meant that the trailhead we were at was for a different trail than he had recommended, but we looked at the map and realized we could start off on the Jakes Creek Trail and then loop over to the Little River Trail on the Cucumber Gap Trail. Hah! Sounds easier than it actually was.</p><p>We geared up and then started up a good slope alongside raging Jakes Creek. There were deserted campsites on the way, a whole series of wilderness cabins that had burned down and only the masonry remained. We turned even more uphill onto the Cucumber Gap Trail after a steep half mile or so, and followed that for several miles. It soon left the forest road we’d started on and wound uphill through a magic forest.</p><p>All along, we’d been seeing trees we couldn’t identify, as well as plenty that looked familiar, such as the ashes and beeches. There were conifers too, but not on this uphill slope. The tree that predominated there was the <a href="https://www.inaturalist.org/guide_taxa/511653" target="_blank">Tuliptree</a>, that made wonderful, complicated flowers and dropped them on the trail. We were climbing uphill through a vast forest of them, tall sentinels surrounding us, as well as thickets of rhododendrons and thick vines. The trail, and we, wove in and out through creases in the hillside, always going up and up. Several times I could see daylight on the tops of the ridges and thought we might crest them, but we kept switching back and forth and going up and up.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3a8vqoQ_ywvggJscqv7QUUeM0l5GwDk_PQhyQ9iDYz81xuy1KD73msNuptFda89ftjv4G72z29MgK2KwFODjRfSCFIdrEEkl67fL9yVT0wvHAaMyYzBu0spmv5pF5DHUBSln__1wyaHfgHhL3DRHiiTqVu7XAfaKGGTVACpvbSVzIGvz7EqeIhfOHXLZ/s4000/IMG_20230515_124659387_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3a8vqoQ_ywvggJscqv7QUUeM0l5GwDk_PQhyQ9iDYz81xuy1KD73msNuptFda89ftjv4G72z29MgK2KwFODjRfSCFIdrEEkl67fL9yVT0wvHAaMyYzBu0spmv5pF5DHUBSln__1wyaHfgHhL3DRHiiTqVu7XAfaKGGTVACpvbSVzIGvz7EqeIhfOHXLZ/s320/IMG_20230515_124659387_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>We finally crested a last, high ridge and then were going down and down, towards the sounds of rushing water. We forded across a branch of the Little River, where we met a group of young people going the other way, with a Bluetooth speaker giving them the beats. We saw only six or seven other groups on that trail, which was amazingly deserted for that huge and crowded National Park. Eventually we made it to the end of the Cucumber Gap Trail (didn’t see any cucumbers, must have been the wrong season) at a big intersection, and we took a break for water and granola bars. We then kept downhill, down the Little River Trail and back towards the Elkmont camping area. We were deep in the forest and there was a wilderness camp off to our right. There was a passing shower during our break, but the sky soon cleared up again, though we could barely see it in the tunnel of trees down the raging river.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2lRtp__8BHC1YVNz8ybhRxmgg8-p9lmlAfVN8CcfunFzYILNDesyuIUsJvHZ350IjiimR9cGblPVuhths2QDiCZ44kBNfEHcVLaOXWKr2C0g78G0HEvz-dhZfdXNJm7S4ozQMU0HgleHFsROkBHrUsvh2NWudNY4j1zte8hX_UEg_GaWWXrpymF75O5VD/s4000/IMG_20230515_140513756_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="3000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2lRtp__8BHC1YVNz8ybhRxmgg8-p9lmlAfVN8CcfunFzYILNDesyuIUsJvHZ350IjiimR9cGblPVuhths2QDiCZ44kBNfEHcVLaOXWKr2C0g78G0HEvz-dhZfdXNJm7S4ozQMU0HgleHFsROkBHrUsvh2NWudNY4j1zte8hX_UEg_GaWWXrpymF75O5VD/s320/IMG_20230515_140513756_HDR.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><p>The Little River was just incredible. We were hiking down and down on a steady slope, and the river crashed along to our right, sometimes going away and then coming back. It was the opposite of gentle, always totally serious about getting that water downhill over those boulders and around those logs and those sand banks as fast as it could. Several cascades rushed down the steep banks to our left and joined the raging river, while we stood there and gaped. I can’t describe how beautiful it was. We’d already done 900’ of elevation(?) on that loop as well as some serious elevation that morning, and my knees and hips were beginning to complain. But we were going downhill and the river right next to us was untamed and there just for us (and a few others who were enjoying the hike as much as we were).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3zLpwV4WcdrcAwFedIId0E9RLijhSuyOyoCjdI4rBs70i44A8YP5kVFQi3nLsxZKEVChkEKSl9Pvl9RqHej9UvneS7C0Ab-h_N8K95dmUsAJZ3NVJNoF3WdT-ZFAWPguMCd8ujCmSkozPWuV6NCf3WV3cOfNZxxDKKE_lsOaSebiU-ZAOD-TGF8JXfOG/s4000/IMG_20230515_141120081.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ3zLpwV4WcdrcAwFedIId0E9RLijhSuyOyoCjdI4rBs70i44A8YP5kVFQi3nLsxZKEVChkEKSl9Pvl9RqHej9UvneS7C0Ab-h_N8K95dmUsAJZ3NVJNoF3WdT-ZFAWPguMCd8ujCmSkozPWuV6NCf3WV3cOfNZxxDKKE_lsOaSebiU-ZAOD-TGF8JXfOG/s320/IMG_20230515_141120081.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Eventually the abandoned, burnt-out-except-for-masonry huts started up again and we knew we were getting near the camping area. We got to the first parking lot and still had a bit of a trek uphill to the second one, where we hugged our car and had a great PB&J lunch on the tailgate, late in the afternoon. That was a fun hike.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiec9KrJq74lzORnHEeh1ZrC0UZgGJcguvSH2ZOmHtMo3Qh8LxUg3f0zuJuP3GXvrSF9J2xRaBDPDZuo5qY0k_vA-eg4_S1xTW0vh5kjIrlNQonibbvNXU02ZSnj2T7O4Zxl8JrcHkQ0R1hQiNCSwiqj2E2Kts1WL-q8cZ317PJrVIF7sK_DIBkPrmT222v/s4000/IMG_20230515_151057090.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiec9KrJq74lzORnHEeh1ZrC0UZgGJcguvSH2ZOmHtMo3Qh8LxUg3f0zuJuP3GXvrSF9J2xRaBDPDZuo5qY0k_vA-eg4_S1xTW0vh5kjIrlNQonibbvNXU02ZSnj2T7O4Zxl8JrcHkQ0R1hQiNCSwiqj2E2Kts1WL-q8cZ317PJrVIF7sK_DIBkPrmT222v/s320/IMG_20230515_151057090.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Decompressed for a while there and then I washed my hands in the cold creek while Sarah toured another group of abandoned camping huts called <a href="https://www.nps.gov/places/daisy-town-the-birth-of-tourism-in-the-smokies.htm" target="_blank">Daisy Town</a>. Got saddled up eventually and made our way back past the VC and into Gatlinburg, which was rocking. We made it back to our aerie on the fifth floor of the Hampton Inn, overlooking mountains, and debated about whether we wanted to go out again.</p><p>Though we’d had a late lunch, we were starving and actually considered going back to the Brewhouse or to somewhere like Bubba Gump’s. Sarah was looking for alternatives, but there weren’t a great number of Jon&Sarah-friendly places. She eventually found <a href="https://peddlergatlinburg.com/" target="_blank">The Peddler Steakhouse</a>, which had pretty high prices but might have acceptable beers. Drove over there and of course the parking lot was full and the place was packed, perhaps with your more deep-pocketed hillbillys.</p><p>Snark aside, we got a very nice table in the “lounge” area (as opposed to the “dining room”), I got an acceptable beer, and they had a great salad bar. You had to order a high-cholesterol meal after that, and Sarah got the prime rib while I got the portobello chicken. How long will it be until I realize, if you go to a steakhouse, order the steak (or prime rib)?? Anyway, my chicken was acceptable and I didn’t have too much of an upset stomach that night from the richness of the food.</p><p>The people on the streets of Gatlinburg were looking more and more zombie-ish, but we safely got back to the hotel at last. We played the Parks game in their nice breakfast room. A guy we’d met on the trail was there too and wanted to talk, but we didn’t stay long and soon got to bed.</p><p>We’d done about 1300’ of elevation that day, in addition to a lot of mileage on the two trails. The odometer showed 314.9 miles, but most if it was actually from the day before on the way down from West Virginia.</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-650038307814868592.post-41326859312126838382023-05-15T10:31:00.021-04:002023-10-06T15:08:11.902-04:0013 States - Down To Tennessee<p>Sunday, May 14</p><p>Wonderful hike on Saturday, but this was going to be another long-haul day, especially since we’d never been that far South before. It was also Mother’s Day! Seems like we’re always traveling on Mother’s Day, which is a credit to our Mothers’ heritage.</p><p>That morning the hotel breakfast was waitressed (rather than buffet-style), and a young one spilled a tray of breakfast before we got seated. Not a good way to start a day for her. Hope she took it in stride, especially if she’s a mother, and we gave her a nice tip later.</p><p>Time to hit the road, but we actually had more of New River Gorge NP to see first. We cruised through the town of Beckley and then way, way down route 3 in WV towards Hinton. This was the real Southern entrance of the Park and where the New River (egged on by the Bluestone River) gets wild. We turned North on the River Road (route 26) in Hinton and followed it for 20 miles or so along the riverside, downstream to the falls.</p><p>The river road on the West bank, and apparently the river road on the East bank, was a trip. You might call it a hippie enclave, but I’m sure a number of the itinerant residents would object to being called hippies. This was a riverside city made out of old RVs, trailers, ingenious shelters, and ancient porta-potties. I’m sure all the stuff gets washed away and/or shifted every few years by the river. But the people there seemed to be saying that they could take that, they just wanted to hang out on the river’s edge and fish when they needed to. There would be bad years, but hopefully they’d be outnumbered by good years.</p><p>We got to the end of route 26, back in the territory administered by the National Park, and parked in their quarter-full lot for a wonderful, mellow hike. This was the Sandstone Falls area itself (as opposed to the Sandstone Falls Overlook), and they have a boardwalk out to the falls, and then a nature trail on the island formed by the falls, which is a mile loop.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdX3X063s5N3WzDbcizyDYZXsQHLNS5VxETJhpfWI63uPRtREkdE4IO76uUjV25V4zY1lAvYw1UVv6wQVDef1gvQyVzgtfTVQ9fqk3JDnrTsLGRq_6TFek4DBwIiE_CCB24fx4v4u1O9xbPwlhprg3FwCUOSvyreIMT34i1zHm8P-0O1-z_UxkEOakBTWy/s4000/IMG_20230514_110835515_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdX3X063s5N3WzDbcizyDYZXsQHLNS5VxETJhpfWI63uPRtREkdE4IO76uUjV25V4zY1lAvYw1UVv6wQVDef1gvQyVzgtfTVQ9fqk3JDnrTsLGRq_6TFek4DBwIiE_CCB24fx4v4u1O9xbPwlhprg3FwCUOSvyreIMT34i1zHm8P-0O1-z_UxkEOakBTWy/s320/IMG_20230514_110835515_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>In an outrageous Spring, this place would have been overwhelmed as much as the trailer village we’d seen upstream, and it has often been overwhelmed by the river from the piles of debris that we saw around the island. But at that time it was just right, and though we saw some spectacular water running through the island, most flowed around it, forming a beautiful falls and even more spectacular rapids. The wider part of that juncture of the New River had formed the long, stately falls, across a few hundred yards. But then we walked further out the boardwalk and the rest of the river was a wild cascade. We had seen this part from the overlook the day before yesterday, and now we were right there with it, seeing the tumult and feeling the steam.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyBjzV24KoWB90y16Qju4lxCd9DwkCUv_LZmae-kzK5uLzCGf2-zRv_XjBZbBGf_HlnxKwrgubucXFQbrGXIQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><p>Great walk on the island trail after that, meeting only one other couple. It was a yellow, sunny morning again after the rains of the last few days, and the plants and small wildflowers were reveling in the river mud. Woodpeckers rattled and frogs honked.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRf8cjDcTaAFF_tar5zozJtrtnjq2NIP9wybyBFjeScsvRsjRgTWyiMoxYJqnJ__IbJx1IXHk0OKMwWmTmSDj6QvC33elT8vfgeCdej7ycqn9Q0Zq4PBWjoZBgRKMXU4jAchfByMmW5wNxaYZ_qQI9yc0e9uyShgIyiltuh0pl8Q2NDGhyPTDqxxC_3Q_8/s1600/IMG_20230514_113416189.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRf8cjDcTaAFF_tar5zozJtrtnjq2NIP9wybyBFjeScsvRsjRgTWyiMoxYJqnJ__IbJx1IXHk0OKMwWmTmSDj6QvC33elT8vfgeCdej7ycqn9Q0Zq4PBWjoZBgRKMXU4jAchfByMmW5wNxaYZ_qQI9yc0e9uyShgIyiltuh0pl8Q2NDGhyPTDqxxC_3Q_8/s320/IMG_20230514_113416189.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Back to the car and it was still too early for lunch (and the parking lot was getting crowded), so we pressed on to the South, following route 20 back to Interstate 77, and back into Virginia. As I say, my itch to see exotic places (the more vernacular the better) was scratched pretty good on that trip. This late morning drive down through Southernmost WV and into VA was exactly what I wanted.</p><p>There were tunnels on the Interstate from WV into VA, and then a long, swoopy drive at 75 MPH (no one was going faster, so we didn’t) from the mountains into the valley. We stopped at a rest area and had an excellent PB&J lunch in one of their pavilions, though some beggars bothered us (crows and chipmunks that is).</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVhWMBw1Zr7KljB3KV37y1DiAbrxZxC_zN7SsUhkgi-3wV5wMsiyeY9Yyptu77r4FAe7zq2iAnQHDIIjriw3UtFyDdk-M2kq1Xk7iVWUU7_-dkj99USuvH__m8X-72-NEeNw-YLFeTfoQ4GwA16bYQesEKqqWh-H9ATw7QLapkWbR0MAiy4s8LZ8R1jvq/s4000/IMG_20230514_133253137_HDR.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3000" data-original-width="4000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVhWMBw1Zr7KljB3KV37y1DiAbrxZxC_zN7SsUhkgi-3wV5wMsiyeY9Yyptu77r4FAe7zq2iAnQHDIIjriw3UtFyDdk-M2kq1Xk7iVWUU7_-dkj99USuvH__m8X-72-NEeNw-YLFeTfoQ4GwA16bYQesEKqqWh-H9ATw7QLapkWbR0MAiy4s8LZ8R1jvq/s320/IMG_20230514_133253137_HDR.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Switched to Interstate 81 in Wytheville (as before, lots of trucks but in general a genteel drive) and motored West in a seam of the mountains, through Bristol VA into Tennessee. 81 joined Interstate 40 and soon after that we finally exited on 66/441 through Sevierville (pronounced “SeVERE-ville”) to Pigeon Forge and then to Gatlinburg TN, right on the edge of the National Park. This was as far West as we got that trip. But hold on cowboy!</p><p>You would not believe the stretch of tourist traps between the Interstate and the National Park, or maybe you’ve seen or heard of it. I’ll tell you, we were unprepared for it, expecting more rural landscape. I should have been tipped off when I made hotel reservations and there were a lot of them with high prices. I apologize to people who want entertainment strips like that, but this was way over the top for me and Sarah, I don’t even know how to describe it. There were gigantic neon signs and billboards, and around every curve on the three-lane highway was another jaw-dropping spectacle. Two that got me were the Hatfield and McCoy dinner theater, an all-you-can-eat attraction (to see hillbillys get even further denigrated?), and the upside-down palace, which really was an upside-down palace.</p><p>Anyway, the strip finally ended and we were traveling through a greenspace, but then we got to Gatlinburg TN and it was even worse! Again, many people seemed to be loving the artificially propped-up fairyland that Gatlinburg was (they had a Bubba Gump shrimp house and an “Alpine” chairlift ride), and had chosen it as a vacation destination. I had the feeling that I was in the wrong space and/or time, but when we finally arrived at our hotel the desk clerk assured me that I was in the right place and that we had a reservation. Sarah and I counted ourselves lucky that the hotel we’d made reservations at was hanging on the outskirts of town, though they were building yet another hotel behind it, and to have our fifth-floor room be blessed with a mountain view. They also had a patio overlooking “the Creek” that a lot of the hotels around there gushed about, but it was nothing really special.</p><p>We’d checked out local dinner options (we could have gone to Bubba Gump’s!), and there was a <a href="https://smoky-mtn-brewery.com/" target="_blank">Smoky Mountains Brewery</a> downtown. Knowing we might be sorry but sometimes you have to go for it, we hiked over to the brewhouse and had a fine meal, though it was incredibly bright and noisy in there. I got their guest IPA and then their flagship IPA, which was very impressive. Sarah got a cocktail special and we both had salads. Nice to be there but not for long, and I have to give our waiter four stars, though there was a bit of language difficulty.</p><p>Waded back through the writhing downtown and back to our fifth-floor room at the Hampton Inn – Historic Nature Trail (there are three Hampton Inns in town so don’t be fooled!). A little reading and then soon to bed. It had been a long road day and we forgot to get the mileage, but it had been quite a journey from Beckley.</p>jbxprohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12409463265978217440noreply@blogger.com0