You are currently browsing the monthly archive for February 2010.
January 23rd – 28th, 2010
After checking out that day I went over to a breakfast restaurant a few blocks away from the hotel. It was quite crowded and the only table available was a table for four. They did seat me there but then another lonely traveller walked in, Pablo. He was from Spain, a long way’s away from home and had little English to communicate with. I told him to sit at my table since there were three extra seats. We talked about his trip as he’d landed in Vancouver and was travelling most of BC. It’s actually quite amazing how much conversation you can have with someone who doesn’t speak the same language. Expressions, hand gestures, and similar sounding words give off the same effect in the end, telling me about the bull races back home and his experience with the mountains so far.
After breakfast I went about reading for the better part of the afternoon. There was a band in that night and I wanted to catch a bit of it. I didn’t stay too long since Jess had gotten a hold of me and wanted to jam a few songs.
I found my way to her and her roommates’ house on the north side of town. It turns out Jess was playing at the Last Drop on Monday afternoon, as part of the Australia Day celebrations, and she asked me to play the show with her. I learned a few songs which she intended to do and we quickly went over her set list: Waltzing Matilda, the national anthem, I Come From A Land Down Under….it was a good jam, I’d brought the video camera. Jess Cullen has a breathy and sultry tone to her voice but also has the power to shout above the comfortable swagger she naturally soaks the room with. I’ve taken it upon myself to try and showcase the unique musicians I’ve come across since I’ve been so lucky to see the various artists Canada hosts, heard of or unheard of. We called it a night early enough for me to head back to the bar just as the night was ending there.
Johnny P. and his roommate Brittany, who also works at the bar, invited me back to their place for a couple drinks after they “shut ‘er down”. We cabbed it there and listened to some music in their party palace into the early hours of the morning, a schedule I remember keeping when working at the Reactor Night Club in Windsor. A bar in the living room with a palm tree and party decorations, this place was the place to be after hours. Brittany also had two big and loving German shepherds that were extremely happy to have company as well. Johnny and Brittany were great and told me to make myself at home for my time in Revelstoke, should I need a place to crash. Their home was my home, I was told.
Sunday morning I walked back to the van. I needed some fresh air, but more importantly, I needed a coffee and got some for my temporary roommates too. I also needed to catch up on some things in the afternoon, such as blogging and updating my contact book.
In the evening, Johnny invited me to catch a hockey game that his team was playing in. Eric played in his team too, and because of the bar collaboration, they were the “The Dropout Idiots”. It was quite the game, sporting only 7 players, the Dropouts had only one spare on the bench for this full 3 period hockey game. Their opponents had more than a line’s worth of spares but were being out-skated. Eric and and Johnny P. are definitely the strongest on their team, setting up plays every time they rushed their adversary’s net. Some great passes were made but sometimes there was just no one there. This didn’t stop them from winning though, they won 6-5. I couldn’t believe they managed to keep the energy up to skate, score, and conquer. I was sitting upstairs after the game and got a text saying to come down for the celebration in the dressing room, and like any hockey arena, all I had to do was follow the ripe smell of victory and keep walking past the stale smell from games past.
Monday I woke up early enough to shower and to go meet Jess at the bar. Set to start at 2, we were still waiting on the sound system to arrive. Turns out that because she was playing there in the afternoon, and at the Idiot that night, the rental service went to the wrong bar. I told her not to worry about it, I brought in my equipment instead. All her 10 roommates were out in full fury with white t-shirts on to be able to write on each other with felt pens. Jess was wearing a bikini bottom over her jeans while others wore short cut-offs over tights. They like to get a little crazy! Though I didn’t have a white t-shirt, they branded my skin with their felts and made me an honorary Aussie for the day with various sayings and drawings covering my arms. Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!, Oi! Oi! Oi!!
It was fun to do the show since it gave me a chance to sit back and play along instead of singing. It was her first 3 set show, and being a bit new to the game, she told me later it was nice to have me there for musical and PA support. I was invited to do the show at the Idiot that night at 8 as well. She had arranged for a room for me at the Drop again that night so I would have accommodations for my sets. I told her it was an honour to be a part of the festivities, though it wasn’t Australia day in Canada on the Monday, it was in Oz because of the time difference. They would celebrate two days in a row. On the second day I rested, sort of…
Tuesday morning I drove over to the north end to bring Jess’ guitar back which she’d left in my van; but, was told by her roommates that she hadn’t been home yet, a true rock star. I was faced with a dilemma. I wanted to go up to the mountain to sing a song on the summit but needed a camera man/woman. Turns out the guy for the job would be Cam. Cam the camera man was another musician in the house who agreed to partake in the activities of the Good Faith Tour.
We drove up to the day lodge and walked to the gandala, which doesn’t require a day pass to ride when not in ski gear. This only takes you half way up the mountain though. There’s a rest area there with washrooms and a deck that overlooks the valley and town below. Some skiers on break saw us coming with my guitar and offered us a drink for a song. I took them up on their offer and played a few songs for them with the sky oasis as the backdrop. Our new buddies were still celebrating that day from the night before and were taking turns jumping off the deck and into soft powder on the slope below.
Knowing I had to be back to town in the early evening, I found ski patrol and asked about getting to the chair lift, which would take us up closer to the summit. We were told we’d have to speak with management to have sleds take us their as it’s too dangerous to walk while skiers and snowboarders are making their way down the hill and to the lift. We would also have to sign an insurance waver to exempt the resort from responsibility should we choose to ignore our own. This didn’t upset me since now I knew that it could be done and knew what I’d have to ask for once I got to the office.
We went back down to the lodge and spoke with Ashley. I told her of my intentions with her mountain peaks and she agreed to have arrangements ready for the morning. We were warned to dress warm as it is much colder at the summit because of wind vulnerability. We would have at least a 30 minute climb to the summit once let off the chair lift. I drove Cam back home and went to the Drop to see my friends.
I was getting ready that evening for an event I’d been dodging, keeping just in front of on my journey. The Olympic torch relay was stopping in Revelstoke that night and I wanted to be there to see the celebration. Waiting around for the runner to pass by I still had quite some time and was befriended by a few Vancouverites. They invited me to the bar for a drink and to warm up until the torch came by. To my surprise when we got in the bar there must have been 20 full glasses of beer on the table, it was twoonie glass night and they’d ordered a bunch! I helped them a little but told them I couldn’t miss the torch or my editor would shoot me!
When I left the bar, I turned the camera back on, it was getting close to that time but tragedy hit!! The camera wouldn’t turn on. Since I’d been in relative warmth in the bar and went back outside, it caused condensation within the mechanism; and, for it’s own safety, the camera wouldn’t let me film. I was in a bit of a panic. I ran into a restaurant and asked if they had a vent I could use to try and dry out the camera quickly, but the air strength wasn’t strong enough, it would of taken forever. Eureka!! I’d seen a hair salon near by and so I ran to it. When I walked in I told them I had a bit of an emergency and needed to borrow a hair dryer. Without question or hesitation I was handed one and proceeded to explain myself while desperately trying to get the camera to kick off it’s safety feature. Finally after at least 10 minutes of drying, the hair dryer itself kicked off because of it’s own safety mechanism. I tried the camera for the last time and……… it was working!!! I ran back hoping that the flame hadn’t already reached the podium, it hadn’t.
The celebrations were great, thousands of people from the town flooded the main street and I managed to get close enough to the line to get a good shot. Once the ceremonies were done and all the vendors were packed up, I went back to the drop to see the band Cornstar.
The band was setting up and was due to start at 9. Trevor and Shannon were playing that night with another front man but Steve Smith was there to enjoy the show so we got to talking. I had heard he was a radio personality in town. I told him about what I was doing and he graciously invited me on air for tomorrow’s morning show. I had a busy day ahead of me because Tyler from the bar worked at the town’s night club, Outabounds, and booked me in for that day to spearhead the comedy night that was to happen. My Wednesday would include a radio show at 9:30am, climbing Mount Mackenzie and singing a song to the skies at 11am, and a show at 9pm.
That night I didn’t have a place to stay and was going to simply settle in to the van for the night as I wanted to get to bed before Johnny and Brittany would get home from the bar. Turns out that Fly, the awesome ski guide for Powder Springs, must of telepathically figured out my plan and offered me a place to crash in his suite at the hotel. He had two double beds and we had become good friends throughout the course of the week. A New-Zealand native, Fly works in Revelstoke for the ski season every year. They put him up at the hotel and take great care of him. Skiing every day and taking part of the night life every night with the tourists, he’s a legend around town. I took him up on his offer and had a great night’s sleep with accommodations in the morning to get ready for the day. Thanks again bud!! I’ll be back on the way back!
The next day started early and ended late as it would be my last night in town. Cam and I went up again and met with ski patrol for our ride up. We hopped on the chair lift and made it as close to the top as it would take us. I had dropped a glove with the confusion of carrying the guitar, a chair, the camera case, and the tripod but someone had picked it up and brought it up to us. Cam and I started the climb. It was interesting to see people’s faces as we walked around the slopes with our equipment. It took at least 30 to 40 minutes to scale this giant. The air is much thinner and the hill so steep that it felt more like climbing a ladder in the footprints left for us to follow. We took breaks to catch our breath and rest up. Once we made it up though, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was all worth it. It was an overcast day in town but we were well above the cloud line. It looked as though there was a river of clouds flowing through the mountain peaks, indescribable with words alone…
We got our filming done and took some pictures of both of us at this famous summit. There are two peaks to Mount Mackenzie but the other would have been too dangerous to access.
Coming back down was much trickier though. We couldn’t come down the way we’d come up because of the incline and lack of foot support. The foot holes only allowed for half of your foot. We decided to blaze a new trail, I was wearing jeans. Cam led the way for the most part so I didn’t have to get too soaked. Zig zagging to the near bottom was getting tiresome and I gave up my march once we got near the ski trail. I decided I’d slide down on my butt to save some effort. Holding my guitar case like I was playing it, I could see the skiers at the bottom stopping to see what was coming down the hill. There was a bit of a lip at the bottom which caused a bit of a jump, landing on my feet in front of them.
“I’m sorry we stopped to stare” they said. “ We’ve just never seen a musician sliding down the peak of a mountain on his ass with a guitar in hand before..”
Setting up for the show that night was easy. Outabounds had hired a sound tech to come and set the stage for myself and the comedians. I played to a near empty room but was well compensated and complimented from the staff and the patrons that did attend. The comedy part of the night was canceled because there wouldn’t have been enough people for audience participation. The place to be on Wednesday in Revelstoke, which I’d learned the week before, was the open mic jam at the Drop. Once I finished my set, I headed back to see my friends one last time. I was leaving the next day. I was just standing at the bar when I felt a tap on my shoulder, it was Fly. He handed me a key to his room again and said “Stay here tonight, and if you’re here again tomorrow…stay here again tomorrow, and if you’re here again the day after that…stay here again, and if you’re here again the day after that…..”well he kept going for about 2 minutes. It was nice to sit down and talk with Fly, sharing his skiing experiences over the years and my musical ones with him. He has a family back home; and, well I think it was good for the both of us to be able to chat and think of what was waiting for us once our journey was over, at least until the next one began.
January 18th – 22th, 2010
Driving to Revelstoke through Roger’s Pass was quite the view again, though it was snowing that day and visibility was cut down quite a bit. I couldn’t stop along the way since most of the road between Golden and Revi is designated a high risk avalanche area.
When I arrived early that afternoon I had just crossed the new time zone. I was tired and didn’t feel like doing anything but resting or doing a bit of reading. I did manage to get myself to do some much needed laundry though. I had played music four nights in a row and because of my cold mixed in with all the singing, my voice was a little raw. I decided not to go out anywhere or meet too many people. I needed at least a day to myself to recharge and to gather my bartering strengths.
I started reading the first book I’ve ever bought, The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. I had bought it in Thunder Bay when I was there a few months ago but hadn’t gotten around to reading it yet. The story is about a young shepherd, Santiago, who decides to sell his sheep and follow his life’s legend, his destiny. I devoured the book, sitting down only twice with it and it was done. It is a short read but very meaningful in all it’s passages. It had been recommended to me by my good friend, Sarah, from Guelph. She herself is a traveller and had found it a great read in her time spent in South America.
I’ve been reading at night with a neat contraption. When I was in Dauphin, Shelby had come home from school with a bit of a gift basket. One of the items were plastic glasses with no lenses; but, at either side lies a light which is powered by a watch battery it would seem. She didn’t have any use for these but for me, they were gold! I had been relying on sunlight until that point to get any reading done, now I could lie down in bed and read if I wanted. Thanks again Shelb!
On Tuesday, I woke up late morning and grabbed a coffee. I had slept in my van just on the outskirt of town at a rest stop where transport trucks and travellers with campers park overnight.
Driving down main street I saw two hitchhikers. It was like deja-vu from Golden. They needed a ride up the mountain and, well, I hadn’t been up yet. I told them to hop in. They were both cool guys from Utah, here for the season as they fight forest fires at home in the Summer. I pumped them for information on our drive up, asking them where they had seen live music in town. They gave me a few suggestions to try and before we knew it, we were at the day lodge. I drove back into town and went to the first one they’d talked about, The Village Idiot. I talked to the waitress but I had to go back a little later that evening to talk to the manager, Eric. He was interested in a gig but thought it’d be better for Thursday. I thanked him and posted my success on Facebook. As it turns out, my friend Kirk from Windsor saw this and happened to know the owner as well as some of the staff since they were all from Windsor originally. I had no idea about this until Thursday when I went in for the gig. Meanwhile, Kirk had sent me a message to let me know of this and contacted them for me as well. I had noticed that the pizza did look suspiciously familiar when I went in a little later to see the act booked in that Tuesday. To my surprise it was Devon, from the Kevin and Devon duo, that couldn’t make the gig at the Golden Taps a few days prior. He was a great show to watch, utilizing many effects to create a very full sound for a single act. He had mic’d the floor for the bass drum sound, and had looping pedals along with delay, distortion, and wah pedal effects. He was singing really great original songs though I couldn’t get a CD from him that night since he’d forgotten them. I did get his contact information to keep in touch.
The next day I visited another bar, The Regent. I was to speak with Brady but when I did I could tell he wasn’t into the whole project. He did say he’d call me back but it would be of no surprise to me when he didn’t. I didn’t appreciate that he tried to get information as to what the Village Idiot was going to pay me, like he wanted to outdo them or not outdo himself. Because these deals are made with a handshake, I told him only that I was getting a great tab and money for the road, which doesn’t really mean anything. He was purely looking out for his own interest.
The hitchhikers had also told me of a music jam that happened on Wednesdays at The Last Drop. I wanted to catch this for sure as jams tend to do me good in booking gigs, giving people a chance to hear me before hiring me.
Most of my day was spent sight seeing and cleaning the van before I made it out to the jam that night. The host was Steve Smith and the Maritime Kitchen Band. Playing an assortment of well portrayed classics, the crowd was pumping right away. The bar was packed at 9 o’clock and stayed that way for the rest of the night. I was set to go on last. I asked the band to stay on stage and I would call out the songs to them. We played a great set, opening with Copperhead Road. Since the guys play this song in another band of theirs, Shannon did the intro on bass and Trevor was right on with the drums keeping the energy high. They were quite the rhythm section, well seasoned, and you could tell they had been playing together for a long time. It’s always nice to meet musicians such as them because you don’t have to worry. They’re the type whom you could call the night before a show because your band is sick; and, though never having played with them before, you’d hire them for the gig because they’re experienced enough to walk up on stage and get the job done.
I met quite a few people that night including a young singer/songwriter from Australia, Jess. She and her housemates were out for the night to play a few songs and to have a few pints. I wanted to get her information to do something for the documentary but when I turned around they were gone. I asked Richard behind the bar if he knew them. He said he did and would let her know to give me a call if he saw her around.
Thursday I walked around town for a while, stopping in at different stores that make up the downtown core. I had to be at the Village Idiot for 7pm to set up and have dinner before the show started. I met the owner Joel. He was from Windsor and had owned Spicoli’s there as well as having a hand into some other bars. He even knew my brother Jean-Paul who’d worked downtown Windsor a few years earlier. It was a bit of a reunion from Windsor because even after the show, Eric Stokes, his girlfriend Ali, his sister Joy, and I went to the Last Drop which also staffed Windsorites. One of them was Johnny Price. He was a good friend of Eric’s who in turn hired me for Friday after hearing about the show I’d just played a few blocks over. I was stoked because they would offer me a room for tomorrow night and some money for the road as well.
That night though, Eric had offered me a place to crash at his home. We walked there after last call. It was appreciated to sleep indoors for the night and the girls walked me back to the van the next day on their way into work. I received a phone call from Johnny early in the afternoon saying that the gig was confirmed and that I could check into my room at Powder Springs anytime I wanted. It was the hotel attached to the bar. I went there right away to relax in my own space for the afternoon. I brewed some coffee and watched television for a while. It was a treat again to have a room of my own to simply relax and groom myself for the show that night. I played a bit of guitar before setting up for the show. They too offered me a tab and so I had some dinner again. I started at 8 that night and ended at 12:15am. Little to my knowledge, the extra 15 minutes after midnight posed a problem for the bar. The liquor inspector had been in and because of their food primary license, they were warned that in the future, live music could not play past midnight. Had I of known I would of stopped after one encore…
I retired to my room and had a great night’s sleep, checking out at exactly 11am the next day.
