Oh Kanata

Damanta rolls up the 401 to the Port Coquitlam of Ottawa: Kanata, Ontario on August 8th, 2008

This time Matt woke us at 12:30pm asking, "What time is you guy's show in Ottawa? You know it takes five hours to get there, right?" Our show was at 5pm and yes, I knew but I figured I'd wake up around 9am as usual. Unfortunately, I'd slept poorly due to an all night video session happening beside me so I'd put on an eye mask and ear plugs and slept through the morning. With frantic packing and help from Matt we were on the road at 1:30pm.

Of course the dark side of Toronto reared it's ugly head as we tried to escape its clutches: Gridlock on the 401. Seriously. It was a parking lot until Whitby. Now I know Torontonians are gonna write me and say, "That's nothing, I remember this one time..." Save it. I am from Vancouver where we have only one highway and I ride my bike almost exclusively so I never have to use it. I was overwhelmed and consequently had a serious lack of patience for "Left-Lane Larry's" after we finally broke away. Eventually, we managed to get The Beast up to Ludicrous Speed again and got the the bar (only) two hours late. I'd phoned from Kingston to let them know and we agreed to play the allotted time, just later.

It looked like it was going to be a hard drinking suburban crowd that would be more annoyed than buoyed by our performance but we went over really well. Some young guys really got into it and bought t-shirts and CDs and I got into a conversation with a retired teacher whose family was from Ireland. She really enjoyed what we did and it was neat to talk to her and hear about the times when she and her girlfriends would head down to the Irish pub in Ottawa on St. Patrick's day. I think telling the stories did her more good than me listening to them.

After the show, The guys dropped me off at the Ottawa airport where I was to catch a flight to Moncton, NB the next day to attend my sister's Canadian wedding reception in North Rustico, Prince Edward Island. I was excited to take a break from the rigours of the road and see family after the hectic schedule since the drive to Chicago . Elegwen and Jon then had to drive 2 hours through the night to meet Ben, of Tarkin 'fame', in the Mount Royal neighbourhood. When next I'd see them hopefully we'd be playing an early week show in one of Montreal's Irish Pubs.

Chillin' in the T-dot

Damanta rocks "The Center of the Universe" on August 6th and 7th, 2008

Sunlight was streaming into the 23rd floor apartment that Matt had subletted for his summer of recording in Toronto. I got up and couldn't believe the view. His place opened east across Spadina towards the University of Toronto. I could see Varsity Centre nee Varsity Stadium, which I first saw on TV in 1986 when Notre Dame Alumnus Rob Ross caught the winning touchdown in UBC's Vanier Cup win and the CN Tower, which featured in a terrorist plot for the 1995 film "Canadian Bacon", starring John Candy.

I awoke before the rest of the gang and, after doing a load of laundry (oh the glamorous life of a teacher-turned-folk-star), I headed out for some Internet access. As I walked north up Spadina to Bloor Street I was humming "Street Car" by Hayden and at once I was reminded of one of my deepest darkest secrets...I actually like Toronto.

Now, I know all my friends in Vancouver, Quebec, Newfoundland and even the United States will be disappointed in me for admitting this in a public forum but it is true. I would miss the mountains if I lived there (Toronto's deepest dark secret is that it's flatter than Saskatchewan) but I am a city kid at heart and Toronto is the biggest and (achem) one of the better ones.

How can I possibly say this? Well, the population base supports a wider variety of restaurants, bars and entertainment options that I am tempted to sample than anywhere else but Montreal. All the big music acts play there. It has the pro sports that I like to watch and the Hockey and CFL (technically in Hamilton) Hall of Fames. Toronto has Canada's closest approximation of the big AND old buildings that I like about the big eastern US cities. It's airport is connected to everywhere cheaper than anywhere else in Canada and the transportation system is pretty decent with street cars, GO-Trains and the subway.

Sure Toronto has it's gridlock problems and the people there think that their sports teams are way more important to the rest of the country than they really are. And then, there's Scarberia, I mean, achem, Scarborough...but on the whole it's not a bad place.

Bloor Street is near The U(of T) so it has a lot of what I like about the T-dot. The street cars, people on bikes, people on foot, restaurants, bars, cafes etc. The energy of so many different people doing so many different things is really powerful and I had to sit and work on an outdoor patio so I could be a part of it. On the way back to Matt's for an afternoon rehearsal, I stopped in at Honest Ed's to get some Rubbermaid containers to hold all of out CD's, merchandise and camping gear now that it was being carried in a pickup with no canopy instead of a VW Westphalia.

We rehearsed out on the deck in the shade looking over the view I showed you earlier. After touching up a few issues from the Chicago show, we loaded all the gear we needed for the show down to the truck, changed and headed to Fionn MacCool's down on The Esplande for our show. We had arranged to have a local singer, Caitlin Burgess open for us and we were anxious to meet her.


Fionn MacCools has a great atmosphere and a crowded patio. Inside, Caitlin's crowd was ready to folk and our problems sound checking didn't diminish their enthusiasm. She played a great opening set and we convinced her to stick around for a second set so we could enjoy her songs while we were eating. Great stuff.

After the show, we headed up to Bloor street and into the James Joyce where we managed to secure a set the following night by talking to Jonah the manager. We met some new fans at the Joyce who raised some eyebrows us by asking if we'd be having breakfast with them. They meant at an all night dinner down the street but I must admit it was a good opener because we did end up going to the diner with them.

On the way home from blogging and booking and Bloor the next day, I stopped in at one of my favourite Ontario institutions, The Beer Store, where they send your order from the back on wheeled conveyor belt. It was made famous (to non-Ontarians) by the movie Strange Brew when Bob and Doug MacKenzie tried to get a free case of beer:

I picked up some Mill Street Tankhouse Ale but, sadly, I had to pull it off the shelf as apparently only domestic two-fours from the major breweries come down the belt at the Spadina and Bloor location.

Before the show Elegwen headed out to a local bar to try to meet some industry types and Matt went to help his girlfriend move so it was left to John and I to carry all the gear on foot the four blocks to the James Joyce. Fortunately, Jonah didn't want us to play with the drum kit so our gear was limited. We went on at 11:30 and had a pretty good set. They were so impressed at the bar that they wanted to have us back at the end of August. Unfortunately we were already booked in BC for the dates they wanted. Maybe next year.

All in all it was a pretty decent run in The Big Smoke and we were off to the Ottawa area the next day.

Check THIS Out...

Damanta (complete with bass player Matt Roberts!) pick their way "home" to Canada from Chicago, Illinois on August 5, 2008

When we invited Matt down from Toronto to play in Chicago we envisioned driving back up in The Pooka but alas it wasn't to be. We had only our half-ton Beast to get four guys up to the T-dot. Let's just say it was a bit of a challenge squeezing in. There had been talk of Elegwen taking a bus but since we fit in so well(!) the decision was made to suck it up (in?!?) and go as a foursome. (Above: The Fearless Foursome hits the road: l-r Jon(in cab and visible in sunglasses reflection), The author, Matt, Elegwen)

At a light to the highway on ramp a dude came up to the window of the truck like a squeegee boy would in Vancouver but this guy was selling. Selling socks to be precise.

"Yo, Check THIS out!" he said as he clapped his hands together producing a 12 pack of tube socks. "Five Bucks!"

"No, thanks," offered Elegwen trying to stare straight ahead. Determined, our friend turned sideways, clapped his hands together producing two twelve packs.

"Yo, then check THIS out!...Five Bucks!" This continued until the light was about to change and he was holding four packs and I was contemplating not having to wash socks for almost two months. Elegwen swears the guy behind us went for the first pack at $5 per. Sucker.

Weeks later back in Edmonton our friend VW James suggested an image of our man chasing us down the I-90 at 100km/hr in forklift down with a pallet of sucks screaming, "YO, FIVE BUCKS!"

It took forever to clear the residual suburban traffic of Chicago and get to Indiana so we ended up taking a half hour break in an air-conditioned truck stop in Hammond, IN to cool our sticky, sweaty bones. Here, I was awestruck by the abilities of the woman at the counter... She could make change, take orders for fried chicken, run a credit card transaction and supervise the rest of the staff (who were clearly not at her level of multi-tasking!) AT THE SAME TIME.

As a teacher it pains me to consider that North American education systems are not doing their job but the calibre of employee in convenience stores and fast food establishments between Calgary and Chicago had left a bit to be desired. While it is understood that if you are working at one of these places in Alberta it means that you are not actually bright enough to work on the rigs in the Oil Patch, and duly noted that the population density of Montana, North Dakota and rural Minnesota and Wisconsin probably don't yield too much in the way of under-employed rocket scientists and neuro-surgeons, it was still so refreshing to not have to explain why you paid a $5.01 for a $4.76 bill...or wait until the first item you ordered to be delivered before ordering the second...that I was speechless at this marvel of efficiency and human engineering.

After leaving Hammond, we skirted the great state of Indiana on our way around Lake Michigan. I was as close as I'd ever been to the University of Notre Dame in South Bend, IN but we wouldn't be stopping in on this trip. Our next gas stop was in Potterville, Michigan outside of Lansing and Matt couldn't resist the patriotic imagery of the Stars and Stripes in front of a McDonald's. It was almost enough to make you enlist...or hungry for apple pie. Mmmm...pie. (Real, not McDonald's)

With all passengers reading to try and take their minds of the fact that we had never had been this intimate with three other people in our lives we ended up going west on I-96 instead of east I-69. Doh! We righted the ship and we on our way to the Port Huron Border Crossing. Passing through Flint, Michigan on the way, I remarked that although Michael Moore stretched the truth and obscured some facts in "Bowling For Columbine", he wasn't exaggerating about the condition of his hometown--it looked pretty depressing.

In Port Huron, MI we stopped for our last shot of cheap American gasoline and a coffee & pie break at a truck stop restaurant. Suddenly panicking, we realized this was our last chance to try grits before we left the States. Unfortunately, they were not part of the restaurant's all-day breakfast menu. It's for the best in the end as northerners probably can't do them justice anyway. Then Matt tried to pay the seniors' price for his pasta primavera. Gong Show.

You have to pay a toll to cross the bridge to access Canadian customs (Note to State of Michigan, Highways Commissioner--Nice Touch). Approaching the booth, we were a bit nervous about the fact that we had four people in a three seat-belt cab.

"Looks a tight in there," smiled the Customs agent. "Where's everyone from?"

Elegwen, who had all the passports responded, "Three from Vancouver, one from Toronto."

"What's under the tarp?" he said motioning towards the bed of The Beast. When Elegwen told him it was camping gear and musical instruments, the border guard asked how far we were going. When we told him Toronto and he laughed and said with a chuckle, "Well, I hope you make it before one of you explodes! Have a nice night." And with that we were back in our home and native land.

This transaction was remarkable not only for the fact that we were over the legal limit for passengers but also for the fact that none of the passengers reported to be from Alberta and the license plates on the truck were. No questions asked--Oh, Canada.

The ride to Matt's from the border is completely blocked out in my memory by the fact that after 8 hours of being sardined into a truck cab with three other men the combined effects of heat, smell, fatigue and muscle cramping were making me the most miserable I have been in a moving vehicle in a long time. So sadly, there isn't much to say about the darkness, fog and darkness on the 401 and 403 between Sarnia and Toronto, Ontario.

At Matt's place on Spadina, we had to haul almost everything to the elevator and into his apartment because we couldn't leave all our gear under a tarp on the streets of Toronto. This took about five times longer than it needed to as we all had Confused Traveller Fatigue Syndrome*. At last I was sprawled out on my thermarest on Matt's floor and the nightmare was over. Oh how I missed our Volkswagen Van.

*Not a real medical condition

Chicago Hope

Damanta digs out of the rubble of their trip to Chicago on Aug 4th.

So I woke up disoriented in Phil’s air conditioned to the sound of Matt getting ready to head out. Jon and Elegwen slept because they’d driven the last stretch while I dozed in the cab of the truck. I convinced Matt to wait for me and then we headed out to the local supermarket for a breakfast snack.

Phil lives in a ‘developing’ neighbourhood, which is to say an area that was previously undesirable but a few artistic types moved in on the cheap and its coolness is rising rapidly. When Matt and I stopped in a local grocery store we were the only white people in the place--an interesting sensation. I didn’t ask (Edmonton-born) Matt how he felt about it but having grown up in Vancouver, and lived in a small town in Japan, it was eyebrow-raising but not that far outside of the realm of past experience.

We walked to the bus stop in a deluge and the stop we needed didn’t have a shelter. Great. I ate my breakfast yogurt and these yellow things that you peel before eating (but Gwen Steffani is around to tell me how to spell the word so you’ll have to use your imagination).

The L-train into town was cool-gotta love the CTA. I love approaching American big cities and seeing the buildings looming larger and larger. Matt had two items on his Chicago agenda: The Art Institute of Chicago—home to American Classics like “American Gothic” by Grant Wood and “Nighthawks” by Edward Hopper and Chicago Deep Dish Pizza. As we descended the steps from the train platform at the appropriate stop for the Museum, we ran right into a pizza joint... Done deal. I've had better (last time I was in town) but it was good to enjoy some local 'scenery' instead of fast food crap and convenience store fare.

When we finally made it to the AI there was a line up and this gave us time we got to look back at the art deco skyline along Michigan Avenue and I was floored again (I was here in 2002 to see my sister, Leiana, play volleyball for UNLV). At the risk of sounding like some bumpkin from an isolated logging town on the west coast of Canada, I can never get enough of the intricate stone and brick work in Eastern American big city towers. I look like a total tourist whenever I am in New York, Philly, Chicago etc because I am always looking up. I suppose I am transfixed because almost all the tall buildings in Vancouver have been built in the last 30 years so they are all steel and glass. The Marine Building on Burrard is the only example I can think of in Vancouver that comes close to Michigan Avenue's towering works of art.

Inside the AI, after my obligatory look at Van Gogh and the Impressionists (Serrault's Pointillist work Sunday in the Park that appeared in the film "Ferris Bueller's Day Off"), we concentrated on the excellent American Collection. We saw the above mentioned classics and I was really struck by how much great work has been done in the (relatively) short history of the United States.
Outside we walked North on Michigan avenue to Millennium Park which had been constructed since my last visit. There is a crazy water park with faces of Chicagoans that change about every ten minutes. Just before the face change, the lips of the projected face pucker and water is spewed forth onto the kids playing below. Probably the only place in the world you can get spit on by a local and enjoy it...
Millennium Park also has a polished aluminium orb that you can walk under and through taking pictures of yourself reflected on the convex surface. It is one of those places in the world (like the Leaning Tower of Pisa) that inspires a lot of hokey poses. Of course Matt and I took our turns...

We walked across an outdoor amphitheatre and I dreamed of watching one of my favourite (and Chicago-based) bands Wilco there...

Crossing over a Gaudi-inspired bridge to Grant Park, where I was also impressed by the well-signed and wide bike paths that ran parallel to the park... The Lollapalooza tour was cleaning up after a weekend stint (we would have been there--with Wilco--if the van had not broken down).
At this point, we got a call from Phil saying that the Elbo Room had agreed to let us play the opening slot on their Monday Night bill so we could do our live recording after all. Before Phil and the guys picked us up (after their afternoon "breakfast") we got to take our picture (Elegwen and Jon are there in spirit...) in front of the Buckingham Fountain, made famous in the opening credits of "Married With Children" and we went back to Phil's to gear up for the show.

There was a thunderstorm that hit as we were loading in and when I went around the block to find parking I got twisted around the myriad diagonal intersection that abound in the Lincoln Street area. When I finally got back (Note to self: Never ask for directions at Dunkin' Donuts) we were getting ready to sound check for our opening set. Then the sound guy said he wouldn't do anything until the electrical storm passed. There was talk of a potential twister touching down and that the place might close for the night...

When it finally passed and the bar decided to go ahead with the show we began to see how is was where missing our show the night before hurt us--while we got to play it was a far cry from the headlining slot we would have had the night before. The sound guy treated us like crap, insulting Elgwen's choice of microphone and actually leaving the board to go upstairs and drink during our set. Phil said we got some good signal so hopefully we'll get something out of the recording (even the our friend the sound guy ushered us off stage before we'd used our full 35 minute allotment...)
Afterwards we got some fun shots in and outside the bar with our name on the Marquee. Phil's girlfriend (whose name escapes me) took some great shots considering she was working with a $250 digital camera.

The headlining band was a Mandrel Sisters' style vocal group called The Pin Ups backed by a great jazz quartet. They did a great job of all the classics and came complete with a flirtatious blond singer who did her best to 'promote' the band to Elegwen and Jon but she seemed to lose a bit of interest when she discovered that we weren't local.

We headed back to Phil's to crash and get ready ride to Toronto the Tuesday morning--An adventure in itself!
JO

Pictures Added

Several photos have been added to the previous blogs. Sorry for the delay but internet acess has been spotty! More posts later today. Find out how we did in the T-dot!
JO

Rollin', Rollin', Rollin'...

Damanta tries to make it from Lethbridge, Alberta to Chicago, Illinois in less than 24 hours on August 2/3rd...

We passed the spot of our second breakdown,...the first breakdown... and changed drivers right before the border. Elegwen took the wheel and even his famous charm couldn't get us through without a quick inspection. It was no problem though and we were on our way through the great state of Montana. The sun was setting and a storm was brewing up but we managed to get some killer views of the mountains before the sun went down. At a fuel stop in Great Falls (site of one of our cancelled shows) we discovered an incredibly low oil level due to a leak. Good Times in your free truck!

Everything was going well and we might have made some headway through the night but we got stopped by some police in Lewiston, Montana because apparently, our rear running lights were out. This meant that drivers behind us could not see us unless we were braking or signalling. We spent half an hour on the side of the road trying to find the problem and and another hour and a half trying to get it in a gas station changing bulbs and fuses and testing different situations. Nothing worked so we decided to run with our four ways on and continue through the night.

This was where not having the Pooka really hurt. Without the back seat to nap in the person who was ‘asleep’ had to deal with loud music or videos on the iPod to keep the driver and navigator awake. I am not really good at sleeping in a seated position anyways so you can imagine how much sleep I got packed into a truck cab with two other guys watching entourage at top volume…

At 6am on a desolate stretch of road we stopped by a country school to take pictures of the sunrise and change (tractor) drivers. I was on. At first I took it calm and got a feel for how The Beast handled but by the time we’d reached the interstate at the Montana/North Dakota border, I was ready to go plaid by making the jump to Ludicrous Speed.

I powered across North Dakota, through badlands just after sunrise and through farmers’ fields, battling the cross winds (and people from Minnesota who don’t know what the passing lane is for). I noticed that North Dakaota had an innovation with respect to letting drivers know what was coming up...While North Dakotans tell you at the base of the ramp that you have NO SERVICES at that particular ramp while in Montana you are not notified until you are at the top of the ramp and off the highway...

When we reached Bismarck, ND at noon, I figured we were on the state border (my navigator was asleep…). Wrong. We still had half a state to go and doubt began to creep into my mind as to whether we could make the show. Elegwen had assured me it was only a couple of hours from Madison, Wisconsin to Chicago so I figured we could still make it. We told Matt to get on the plane and we’d meet him there.

We reached Fargo, ND (yes that Fargo) at 3:30pm. For some reason it seemed like a good idea to get out of the car for a lunch break at Taco Bell (instead of driving through—I blame road fatigue) and skirted Minneapolis by 5pm. The road to Madison was long and it was becoming clear that we didn’t have a chance to make there for our spot at 11pm.

Outside of Madison at 9:30pm, we called Matt to give him the bad news. In his heart, he already knew. Phil, an engineer who had been scheduled to record our set that night, had offered to take him in and extended that offer to us. We were incredibly fortunate to have come across such a generous person. We stopped at another Taco Bell somewhere in Illinois and I might have been hallucinating but I swear I saw a helicopter on the back of a pickup...

We finally pulled into Phil’s driveway at 3am after a 34 hour journey. Fortunately, he still let us in. We had been stopped three times by the police about our tail lights and without these stops and attempted repairs after the stops we might have made it to the show on time. But we didn’t. It looked like we’d invested quite a bit (the cost the gas, the cost of hiring the sound engineer and the cost of Matt’s ticket to fly down and the human cost of the ordeal of getting to Chi-town) for very little gain. A somewhat depressing out come to a VERY long day.

Anthony To the Rescue

Damanta can't get out of Lethbridge on August 2nd without a helping hand...

On the way back to Lethbridge for the fourth time moral was very low. Without the money in hand to make the repairs necessary it looked like the tour was over until...Anthony offered us the use of his truck. Apparently, he'd recently purchased a Chevy Silverado 1/2 ton for $250 and was so into us finishing this tour he was willing to lend us the truck for the balance of the summer.


It should be said that the truck didn't have a working speedometer or a driver side mirror or working rear running lightsor a canopy and had a headlight out. But it was the right price so we bought a headlight and a tarp and (after 1.5 hours in the Canadian Tire parking lot) we were on our way. Anthony, everything that happens to the band after this point on the trip is thanks to you. We can never repay you fully. I can't wait to play that house concert for your family in September.

Saturday morning I rode with Anthony out of Lethbridge to the foothill country through an native reserve land that has preserved several species of prairie wild grass and flowers. Chief Mountain, who I believe makes an appearance in a Corb Lund song, "Little Foothills Heaven," looked down as I took the wheel of THE BEAST for the first time.

It is a blue truck with sport (which is to say LOUD) exhaust and tinted windows but sadly, no bumping stereo. It is my believe that in removing his stereo system, the previous owner managed to screw up the electrical system beyond comprehension--but it is just a theory...


I followed Anthony back to Lethbridge through fields of cattle and windmills and began to change my attitude toward this whole experience. Instead of being a last gasp attempt to continue, we had a potential Hollywood movie on our hands--Band rescued by tow truck driver goes on to fame and glory. Now, I know my friend Ryan has told me that fame and glory are not likely by-products of a folk music project but we'll see.

It took us a bit of time to transfer the gear from The Pooka to the newly christened Beast. It was clear that travelling this way was not going to be easy. There would be no more sleeping in the back while others took up the wheel. There would be no more snacks in the ice box. No more pop-top camping and no more slow lane cruising looking at the scenery.

We were already late leaving for a show in Illinois and would be lucky to get there. Matt was in Ottawa poised to cancel his ticket to Chicago if we sent him word but we really wanted to make it there. We were goping to play at a famous music venue called the Elbo Room and hoping to record the set. So we made a run for the border a third time...