February 8th – 11th, 2010

It actually felt quite different when I left Nelson because never before on my trip did I have to do such a long a stretch of highway twice like that. I had a 3 hour drive back to Osoyoos where I’d made my eastbound turn a few days earlier. From there I would be travelling west again.

There was no particular reason to leave that morning other than I felt like it was time. The Olympics were kicking off in Vancouver on Friday and I wanted to make one more stop before getting there. Ron from the Copper Mug Pub had a friend in Princeton who owned a bar which had live entertainment.

I thought I’d take a few days to myself and go visit Princeton and the surrounding area. It turns out it was a perfect halfway point for the drive from Nelson to Vancouver. I didn’t realize how small the town would be though. Keeping in the spirit of the tour, I hadn’t looked it up previous to arriving. There were a few recognizable chain stores but the town only had a few thousand people. I did notice that there were many mining trucks parked at the motels lining the highway, which I was hoping meant a lot of visitors looking for nightly entertainment.

When I booked the show for Wednesday, the owner of the Brown Bridge Pub couldn’t find accommodations right away because there was no vacancy in town that night. I didn’t mind another camp out as I wanted to take a night or two off to catch up on some reading and some Al time. Also, I wasn’t expecting him to put me up for two nights since I was only playing the one. We shook hands and I was off to do some sightseeing.

Princeton is divided quite interestingly as a town. The “downtown” is located on a ridge where the highway rolls through the village; but, there are three distinct residential areas. Two of them were developed in the valleys which are located north and south of downtown. The third was built a bit higher on the ridge and hosts bigger and more expensive homes… natural segregation I suppose.

Later that night after doing some laundry I decided I’d go for a walk. Taking the time to look at window displays from different businesses in town and breathing in the mountain air, I didn’t realize how long I’d been out walking. I saw it was 11 when I reached for my phone and thought maybe I should turn around and start walking back to the van. I was walking at a steady pace in order to ignore the cold wind which was cutting through my spring jacket. I soon came to a dead stop in my tracks. Three white tailed deer were on the other side of the street, on the corner in front of my van. I didn’t move in too close since there was three of them and they seemed to be unfazed by my presence. It was like they knew I was the visitor. I just stood there, about 30 to 40 feet away, camera-less, staring at them, and they did the same…they also did not have cameras. They must have let me stand there for a good 10 minutes with them, with no car or human traffic around, it was quite peaceful. One of the deer seemed to signal the others that he wished to go on and so they did, the three of them walking together like friends going on a midnight stroll through town.

The next night I checked in to the hotel and, after a shower and coffee, I walked over to the bar to set up. I noticed right away that the people in for “wing night” weren’t accustomed to having live entertainment. The bar staff seemed happy to have music coming in but everyone else seemed only but curious about the new face in town. This became even more apparent once I started playing. I did a set of originals and covers but no one seemed to jump on board the blues train. I took a break and walked over to the bartenders which had been dancing away and I asked them what type of music they usually have. I was informed that it was more of a country western town. Go figure, a town out west in the country likes to listen to those types of songs…. I felt like the Blues Brothers when they had to play Rawhide after being booked in a country/western bar by a their agent.

The only thing left to do was to pull out some more country styled music or play my music in a country way, and pluck a few bluegrass songs. Playing a show isn’t always an exact science, you always have to be conscious of the crowd in front of you, I’m just happy they weren’t into gangsta rap!

One man really stood out in the crowd though. He had been listening to all my songs attentively and seemed like he was going to walk over and talk to me once I was done. He did in fact. Rick had heard my interview on CBC earlier on in the week and kept an eye out for me since I’d said in the interview that I could be heading through Princeton. He helped me bring my stuff back to the van after the show and invited me back to his and his wife’s home for an after show drink. Most times I decline invites when I’m just getting done since I like to stay at the bar and mingle. This time was different, given what had happened with the show. I had to go back to the hotel room first to change and grab a few things so Rick told me he was at the appliance repair store in town and to knock on the front window if I was coming by.

I decided I’d go for a beer and walk back whenever I wanted to, depending what the situation was like. I wasn’t worried. I walked the two blocks to the appliance store and Rick greeted me like an old friend. We walked through the shop and into the back room where we listened to CBC radio for a while. Turns out he had a fridge full of beer and some time to spend. I was looking around his shop and noticed washer and dryer parts, different tools spread out, some cds, but even more remarkably, darts in a can. I picked them up to look at them and Rick saw me. He asked me if I knew how to play. My dad always had a dart board at home and I occasionally took part in the neighbourhood dart league. I told him that yes I did know how to play. Rick closed the door behind me and I saw the distance line on the floor, he opened up the dartboard cupboard and we we’re off.

He was much more seasoned than I was and kept me in line by reminding me to count all my darts. I hadn’t played in so long that I was forgetting how to keep score properly. At the end of it all I ended up losing but it was a great time. We ended up sharing some stories and some laughs. He showed me his collection of cds he’d obtained from bands passing through over the years and told me that they all knew him as “Rick The Maytag Man From Princeton”. He also said that his title had gotten him in to a few sold out shows in the past by telling bouncers to go tell the artists that “Rick The Maytag Man From Princeton” was there. I told him that if I ever heard those words he’d be welcome in as well.

The whole experience of the evening really left me with the impression of having been home momentarily, reminding me of my early teens when I used to hang out in my dad’s garage and play darts or when we played at my parent’s friends’ garages.

Thursday morning I dropped off some cds at the store before I left town and continued west towards Vancouver. I was informed the night before that Hope would be the last small town before the metropolis. I figured it would be a good place to stop before heading in. The people I was scheduled to meet in Van were only expecting me on Friday; and, well I didn’t want to spend a minivan night in the not so mini city when I could just wait and meet my new friends the next day.

I pulled into Hope that afternoon and drove around until I spotted a river. It was the Fraser River. There was a lead in onto the rock field which the Fraser flowed straight through. It was very picturesque though I must admit the documentary holds that footage. I set up camp for the night after having some dinner near the river. I went to bed thinking about what Vancouver would bring in the morning. I was finally going to reach the Pacific ocean as I’d orginally hoped for, given that the trip went according to plan and was a success. It almost felt cliche, I must say, that Hope is where I decided to stay.

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