Pretzels, Demo's, and Tow Ropes!

Christmas Morning, 2008

Time to say goodbye to Missoula and hit the road for the big time - Nashville, Tennessee. There are so many people that I'm sad to leave.

But the Subaru packed to the brim, the guitars are secure, and the new fallen snow will make for exciting Montana driving conditions!

My mom braved Highway 93 and drove down for Christmas Eve and to help me pack and clean, and she'll catch the train to Portland today to visit my brother Clark.

But what kind of adventure would this be if there wasn't a problem to begin it?!

I woke up this morning to find that my car's battery was dead. Game on.

So I got a jump from my Madre, filled up and didn't shut the little black Subaru off until I reached Bozeman. On the way out of Missoula, I stopped at my friend Kally's house and picked up a box of Christmas cookies that also included chocolate covered pretzels she had made. They didn't last long.

It's very surreal watching the places and people that you love fade in the rearview, but it amps up my incentive to do well in Nashville. The roads were hardly treacherous today as I had expected, and didn't cause any trouble before Butte.

Butte, America. What a city. I laughed as I drove throuugh remembering a gig this past summer with the Thirsty Three. Drummer Aaron Johnson is from Butte and had given us the insider's tour, including stops at the Pekin for excellent cuisine, Venus Rising for coffee, and a walking tour of some of the amazing Butte architecture. If you want to see Butte at it's rowdiest, stop in for St. Patrick's Day, or for the Knievel Days celebration in the summer. No open container law. Enough said. This summer, Butte also hosted the National Folk Festival for those of you into Folk music at all. Anyway, the Thristy Three and I all drove to the top of Butte and threw rocks at beer bottles before we played at the Silver Dollar Saloon, Uptown. It had been one of our best shows, for us AND for the audience. Butte's just that awesome...their "Downtown" is actually "Uptown" - up the hill. Yeah, Butte!

As you ascend from Butte up Homestake Pass to the East, it feels like taking off for flight, and I hope it's worth just that to leave this awesome state.

I stopped in Whitehall to say goodbye to my friend Ryan...his Grandmas were over learning how to use the webcam to talk to Ryan's sister Cassie in Korea. They would ask Ry a question, then make him ask Cassie. What a riot!
"Ryan - ask her if there are any trees..."
"Grandma, you can ask her - just talk to her!"
Webcams really are amazing.

Back on the road, I called Gil and Deb at Peak Recording and Sound to let them know I was in town. I drove over to pick up 20 copies of Javelina and to say "adios for now" to these awesome friends.

I was ahead of schedule at this point, and called my Dad to see if I could crash the Christmas dinner he was attending with Howard (Dad's roommate) and Patti.

On my way through Downtown Bozeman, I took a few shots of the lighted trees that have been over Main Street for years. Although a probable fire hazard, these gems are much too beloved by the town of Bozeman to be replaced by any other decor.




















I parked the Subaru at Dad's, hopped in the Yoter (Dad's white Toyota Pickup) , and headed up Tabyshockup Road.

After getting incorrect directions and driving three extra miles before I found the house, I finally arrived, and it was well worth it. Our hosts provided me with guest slippers upon entry, and their immaculate home was decorated in a way that would make Scrooge sing Fa la la. It wasn't long before I ended up in front of the fireplace with a guitar in my hands, trading songs with another guest who had brought his own custom made classical guitar along. With a full stomach and a few new friends, our party of four said adieu and walked out into the blizzard that had developed during our dinner.

I don't know how I got into the ditch, but nevertheless there I was. It's not a real Christmas until somebody goes in the ditch, so not wanting to dissapoint, I facilitated just that. 30 minutes, 27 profanities, and one Ford Excursion later, the Yoter was free and we were all soon safe at home. I put in a load of laundry, gave Dad his Christmas present, and hit the hay. It had been a long 24 hours, and as I drifted off, and was snoring faster than you can say road trip.