Today I didn’t wake up at the venue. We were out in the central California countryside, down a dirt road, overlooking miles of short brown grasses, blue skies, and oak trees bent and gnarled like 200 year-old men. I had forgotten Alison was going to visit some friends; she had asked if I wanted to come along and bring Ethan, and it had sounded intriguing, but I had declined due to having a lot to do – credits and such for the upcoming bluegrass instrumental record, more content for the website, and learning the John Jorgensen material.
All was well with my plan until I met this couple. They were genuine, bright, warm, intelligent, and hospitable. I liked them immediately, and they asked us all – myself, Ethan, Sean, and Van - to come to breakfast inside as well as Alison. Sean and Van had to get back to the venue, but something inside me pushed me to stay, and I’m glad I did.
Breakfast was spectacular, including but not limited to scrambled eggs, bacon, frittata, fresh ciabatta, berries, and a dish made of oatmeal, milk, coconut water, and peaches, with a main dish of bright and interesting conversation. When we’d finished, we met their young son and headed out for a drive on the property to do some target shooting.
Ethan was driving the ATV with me as his passenger, and everyone else was in the truck.
After a brief drive we came to the target they’d set up on a dusty hillside, loaded up, and shot guns for about an hour.
The next stop was the stables, where their hired man, Adam, was saddling horses for us to ride. After ten or fifteen minutes we were ready to go; he let me ride his horse, which was more spirited, and led the way on another. I found Adam interesting to talk to; he spoke of Plato, and Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington, and the history of the area, with the Californios and the Chumash and priests hiding gold.
There is something solid and fundamental about riding horseback. Back in my younger days when visiting the ranch of my in-laws, I spent time nearly every day riding. The breeze in your hair, the sun on your face and arms, the smell of a horse, and dirt, and oaks - all these sensory realities begin to calm and hush the thinking, the worries and cares begin to fade, and all that is left is the flat, still pool of the mind with no rocks being thrown into it because it is simply paying attention to the present moment.
The ride lasted about an hour, but the unhurried pace continued in me for the rest of the day. We rode back up to the stables and dismounted, then drove to the house for lunch, including but not limited to carne asada, fresh tortillas, fresh avocado, cilantro, and jalapeños sliced lengthwise, tomatillo/avocado salsa, and two other kinds of salsa, and roasted peppers.
They drove us back to the venue and dropped us off. I played my Tele banjo for awhile to warm up, got ready for the show, made green tea, iced, and headed to the stage.
The show cruised right along and before long we were at the medley with Willie. This was the next to last show – the Berkeley show is tomorrow night.
All was well with my plan until I met this couple. They were genuine, bright, warm, intelligent, and hospitable. I liked them immediately, and they asked us all – myself, Ethan, Sean, and Van - to come to breakfast inside as well as Alison. Sean and Van had to get back to the venue, but something inside me pushed me to stay, and I’m glad I did.
Breakfast was spectacular, including but not limited to scrambled eggs, bacon, frittata, fresh ciabatta, berries, and a dish made of oatmeal, milk, coconut water, and peaches, with a main dish of bright and interesting conversation. When we’d finished, we met their young son and headed out for a drive on the property to do some target shooting.
Ethan was driving the ATV with me as his passenger, and everyone else was in the truck.
After a brief drive we came to the target they’d set up on a dusty hillside, loaded up, and shot guns for about an hour.
The next stop was the stables, where their hired man, Adam, was saddling horses for us to ride. After ten or fifteen minutes we were ready to go; he let me ride his horse, which was more spirited, and led the way on another. I found Adam interesting to talk to; he spoke of Plato, and Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington, and the history of the area, with the Californios and the Chumash and priests hiding gold.
There is something solid and fundamental about riding horseback. Back in my younger days when visiting the ranch of my in-laws, I spent time nearly every day riding. The breeze in your hair, the sun on your face and arms, the smell of a horse, and dirt, and oaks - all these sensory realities begin to calm and hush the thinking, the worries and cares begin to fade, and all that is left is the flat, still pool of the mind with no rocks being thrown into it because it is simply paying attention to the present moment.
The ride lasted about an hour, but the unhurried pace continued in me for the rest of the day. We rode back up to the stables and dismounted, then drove to the house for lunch, including but not limited to carne asada, fresh tortillas, fresh avocado, cilantro, and jalapeños sliced lengthwise, tomatillo/avocado salsa, and two other kinds of salsa, and roasted peppers.
They drove us back to the venue and dropped us off. I played my Tele banjo for awhile to warm up, got ready for the show, made green tea, iced, and headed to the stage.
The show cruised right along and before long we were at the medley with Willie. This was the next to last show – the Berkeley show is tomorrow night.