Our day starts off pretty well. We hit the ground running at 7am. It's another long leg to Walnut Creek. Coincidentally, long legs are our specialty on this tour. With tims-a-plenty, we drive out and make our way towards California. Gas is skyrocketing by the mile. It takes $123 to fill our tank. All is well until we get to the border to find another snow storm. No big deal though, we've been through worse, but traffic is a mess and it takes about 45 minutes before we even get to the beginning of the pass. We can see that some guy is up ahead checking cars like a troll with a bag of riddles. Luckily Manny knows more facts about random things than a trivial pursuit game. Feeling confident we approach him. Then Ed tries to give him the ol' "howdy-do" wave and not stop but the hill troll isn't having it. He stops us and asks us if we have 4 wheel drive. We do, but I guess we should have answered in the form of a question or something because it's followed by a "Thou shall not pass". Apparently they aren't letting us on the pass without chains on the back axle. Now...I'm not implying that it's some sort of scam, I am all out fucking insisting it. We have two options. Drive all the way back into town and try and buy chains or "conveniently" stop by the lines of official vehicles with signs that say "Chains $30". We're already worried about making it on time, so we suck it up and go for the 30 bucks. We get waved in by an older gentleman that looks like he's been hangin here since God built the mountain. He says he has the cure for what ales us, but it's $100 for the chains and $30 to put them on. They also charge $15 to take them off on the other side. There isn't much we can do at this point. there isn't a perfect size for the tires we're rolling so we get some customs clipped and fitted and we're on our way. That also ensures there is no way we can return these anywhere later. We start our climb up the treacherous mountain, and by treacherous I mean the roads are kind of wet and snow is falling. Literally, in Colorado, people would be riding bicycles up the mountain. But in California, it's a disaster. We get about halfway up the mountain before we hit a dead stop. Like, stop-stopped. We go nowhere for another hour and a half. According to a trucker that Mike befriends, some truck jackknifed and spilled a bunch of oil and they are turning everyone around. Whatever the case was though, they eventually let us through.
There must be two hills or something because we come across a 2nd hill troll. They take a look at our truck and ask if we have trailer brakes. Ed answers "yeah, sure do" to which the hill troll replies "Then you need trailer chains too". Ed, smooth as a prickly pear replies "Oh. Ok. Well then we don't have trailer brakes". Ha! Fucking Ed. Back in Ed form. Luckily the guy just let's us go and we continue on.
So our drive was extended by 3 hours, but we make it over to Walnut Creek in time to catch the last half of a jazzercise class happening at the venue we're playing. I'm not making that up. There are a whole lot of high kicks and shimmies going on out there. We get in and the first band The 132 sets up. One problem. No microphones. Luckily we have one and Jokes For Feelings has one. Then we all do a scavenger hunt trying to find Microphone cables. Then like a bizarre repeat of last year, our bass amp doesn't work when we get up on stage. That is a bummer. Almost as much of a bummer as the venue not having microphones. It's too long to explain exactly how it worked out but it did. Big thank you to Josh Raphael and Jokes For Feelings and The 132 for a great time.
Post show, we head down to San Francisco to crash at our friend Ron's house. There is a bar across the street called "Friends" and we rush to make last call. We barely walk inside before the Tims get approached by some local patrons who may or may not be in a rap band of sorts and who also want to get into some competitive pool. The Tims aren't backing down. Well...kinda. One Tim doesn't want to play, expecially for money or drinks, but you don't leave a Tim hanging. That's their rule. Not my rule though. I join Mike, Manny and Ron at the bar. There is a couch inside this little tiny bar as well, to which Ed stretches out and snoozes off leaving me in a constant fear of the Ed out juke-boxing the juke-box with his triumphant snores. The Tims, to no ones surprise, lose to the guys who look like they play pool there every night of their life. Game 1 down and a Tim picks up the tab. Game 2 and the Tims are down. Funniest thing I heard all night was Tim Reed telling me "Fuck dude! If we lose again, I am out of money and I'm eating farts for the next 2 days!" . They lose again. We stumble back to Ron's place where I pass out on a couch so small only Jeff Dew could lay in.
UPDATE: Bass Amp is back up! That adventure will be posted tomorrow. See you in a few hours Redding!...
Joyous days for joyous times. I can't wait to hit the road.
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