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...

Lethbridge III: The Pooka Craps Out

Damanta played a Sunday night show in Canmore, Alberta on July 28th and was heading south for Great Falls Montana when...

It all began as we came over a rise on the way down to Calgary, The Pooka backfired and the red light of death (a big red G) lit up on the dashboard. We pulled over and discovered that we’d thrown the fan belt. No biggie except we couldn't get it back on and the VW manual was a little unclear. Eventually, with the help of a police officer who had stopped to give us protection from the highway traffic, we figured it out and were on our way. Elegwen noted that our power was way lower and it began to seem like we'd lost our cylinder again.

We struggled to Lethbridge and found a VW dealership who would look at at it the next morning stone cold and so we headed back to O'Reilly's to drown our sorrows and call Great Falls and let them know we'd not be making our show that night. I camped in the van at the dealership and helped them push it into the service bay the next morning.

The prognosis was not good. The cylinder head was likely gone and now the fan was loose. The service manager suggested finding alternate transportation as the van was on it's last legs. I had no choice but to ask him to adjust the valve clearance (for the third time in two weeks) and give us a new fanbelt. I was told that the van might not make Calgary, let alone back home to Vancouver.

We headed out of Lethbridge later that afternoon with our fingers crossed--that the cylinder woulnd't have to be replaced (>$1000) and that the fan would hold up (new crankshaft/new engine required)...We got 45 minutes out of town when the red light of death came on again.

The fan belt was off again and this time when we went to put it back on, the fan was no longer attached to the engine. Bad news. A call to the CAA confirmed that I was right to get their exclusive Gold coverage with extended towing benefits and we there we were stuck on the roadside waiting to go back to Lethbridge for the third time.

Anthony, our tow truck saviour, showed up an hour later and let us know that he was into Irish music and speaking German. Him and Elegwen became fast friends which was good because we got up close and personal in the cab of Anthony's tow truck. Let me tell you, four guys in the cab of a full sized pickup don't fit so well.




We had Anthony tow us to the Ellis Autodrome (for cheaper than dealership pricing, we hoped) and ended up back at...you guessed it O'Reilly's. It was like groundhog day all over again. Anthony actually asked if we wanted him to put the flashing lights on to announce our presence. Uhh...no, thanks.

3 days later, on Friday we were trying again to leave Lethbridge. Jesus, the manager of O'Reilly's had already told us of the local legend that once you get to Lethbridge, you can't leave and we were starting to believe it. With our fan welded onto the crankshaft we hit the highway once more in hopes of making it to our Chicago show on Sunday August 3rd.

We didn't even make it as far as we did on Monday before the fan snapped off and it appeared our tour was over. Anthony showed up with a flat deck this time and we loaded up the Pooka for the third and potentially final time in its service to Damanta.

Southern Alberta--Who Knew?!?

Damanta headed south from Edmonton for Canmore and Lethbridge, Alberta from July 25th to 27th

The ride to Canmore from Edmonton was uneventful in that we had no mechanicals and we got there in a reasonable amount of time. We did miss the Trans-Canada in Calgary and had to backtrack up the MacCleod Trail. When we got to Canmore it was dark and rainy so our dreams of an outdoor show at the campground were dashed.
James, the Wapiti Campground manager, suggested we go to a Wednesday night open stage jam in town. So we headed in Zoma’s Bistro with a quick stop at the Canmore Hotel to drop off some posters to promote our show at the end of August for the Highland Games.

At the open stage both Elegwen and I played some of our songs. In honour of all the Quebecois performers and campground residents, I played “Un p'tit tour” by my favourite Quebecois group, Les Cowboys Fringants. The sound guy told me I should sing louder next time. Uh.., maybe you should just turn up the gain on the mic…

The Canmore Hotel gave us rooms for the night and I awoke the next morning to brilliant sunshine and went for a run along the river. Wow, is Canmore ever a beautiful place. The sun shining on rocky peaks and the trees along the riverside trail gave me so much energy that I didn’t even mind when I lost the shortcut trail I was following and had to bushwhack out to the river.
We mailed some posters to PEI, and Ontario and headed out of town to make our way to Lethbridge for three shows in three nights at O’Reilly’s Pub. The ride down was cool because we only skirted Calgary and thus only got passed-on-the-right-and-cut-off twice (while in the middle lane) as opposed to the usual seven or eight times when we are there (in Calgary, that is).
We got to Lethbridge in plenty of time to set up for our set. There were some pilots cooling off after doing their preliminary test flights with the Tora Tora Tora Air Show that was in town. I was a bit nervous as it was our first pub show with the new amps that we'd rented but the sound check went OK so we were ready to rock.

O’Reilly’s has a solid group of regulars and a really cool staff and our three nights there were really fun. We met a lot of new friends, I got to do some nice runs in the mornings, there was a good coffee shop nearby and I got my new membership card for my new BCAA membership at the AMA (Canadian Automobile Association, Alberta branch) office along with a road atlas and tons of campground guides. Lethbridge also has really neat rail bridge and the coulees which are the little ravines that feed into the river that flows by the town. All in all it was a pleasant and surprisingly fun (And yes, I was surprised—what do you want? Calgary was my old standard for Southern Alberta).

We headed back up towards Canmore to play the Sunday night show that Elegwen had snagged when we were at the open stage on Wednesday. The sun was brilliant and I was really enjoying life on the road VW van style. You just do your 60mph in the slow lane and there is little to no stress. Who knew? The foothills of the Rockies were beautiful (with the exception where they are smeared with little boxes on the hillside near the Trans-Canada) and were really cool to look at while cruising along.

It was a small crowd at Zoma’s but they were enthusiastic about the music and the manager, Brian was very accommodating. As were loading in our gear with French-speakers wandering by, Jon decided that Canmore, was now, “Montreal West,” and based on the number of conversations en francais that I had while I was there, I might have to agree.

We stayed at the campground and in the morning James bought us breakfast at the Canmore Café telling us of his future plans for hiking and business. We wished him luck and were on our way. The plan was to stop in at Lethbridge to pick up our money from the three shows we played there and continue to our show Monday night in Great Falls, Montana. Plans change sometimes though…

Edmonton: The Pooka Strikes Back

Damanta stopped into Edmonton to say hi to the Yates' and to play the Irish Session on Tuesday July 23 at O'Byrne's Pub on Whyte Avenue. What happened next was unexpected but uplifting just the same...

The Pooka began to stuggle as we slowly advanced towards Alberta's capital along Stony Plain road. This was alarming for two reasons: 1)we needed it in top shape for our tour to the east coast and back to break even and 2) we'd just had it tuned up and adjusted 5 days previous in Vancouver. We'd lost power, it was stalling on idle and everything pointed to a return of the previous symptoms. Bad news all around.

Outside a tea shop on Whyte Ave, Elegwen was searching out VW mechanics in the area on the internet while Jon and I called Ed at the Bug Shop and trouble-shot the things he asked us to. No simple adjustments changed performance and we were stumped. Little did we know that our saviour had already seen us and was on our way.

Westphalia James was driving home from work when he saw us and decided to ride back on his bike to see if he could help. One of the great thing about riding in a Westy is the community of users who feels all your joys and pains and will do anything to improve your experience. I suppose it is like joining some kind of church and when you find religion in your own VW you want to make sure others feel the same power from their own experience. James was there for us when we need him and we'll have to return the favour in the future for another VW owner.

He rode back to Whyte Ave check on us and we were still in dire straits. When he saw we had the Haynes Manual as our repair guide he tut-tutted and said we needed the Jon Muir guide. He then rode back home (25min each way) to get his van and tools. We went to a park down by the river and he trouble shot the distributor, the spark plugs and finally the cylinders. Cylinder 3 had no compression. If you don't know what I am talking about you haven't own an air cooled VW, have you? Don't worry, a week before I didn't know any of this stuff either. While he worked I tried to absorb as much as possible from both him and Muir's book, "How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive". I took a break from my study of mechanics to move our gear (which had to be taken out for James to acess the rear-mount engine) into James' van to protect it from a vicisious thunderstorm that broke as he was perfrming the compression test.

James' opinion was we needed a new distributor wire and a vlave clearance adjustment. However, we might need a new cylinder head which would be a 8-10 hour job costing at least a thousand dollars... He said we should do it at his favourite garage and that he'd call them in the morning to see if they could fit us in. He'd just done 5 hours work for us and was now offering to make calls for us in the morning. We had no choice but to take him for beers.

In the morning, James called me to say the garage was sorry but the guy who works on VW vans was away for two weeks. We had to go to plan B, The Auto Haus. We wanted to avoid the AH because it is a VW dealership and dealerships charge >$100 per hour for labour. However when we got there, Vince listened to our problems, checked it out and agreed to take it on the hoist at the end of the day. We went to do a coffee and pie review at a local restaurant and cross our fingers while he worked and when we returned he said we owed a little more than $100 and were good to go. Vince, you rule.

We took the van straight to O'Byrnes and it felt like a new vehicle. At the session I met up with James and told him the good news. He wished us luck and gave us one of his extra copies of "How to Keep Your Volkswagen Alive" before heading home early because he had work in the morning and was up late the previous night (checking our van).

After the session, the folks at O'Byrnes let us put on an impromptu set for our friends the Yates' and their friends. We sold a few CD's and got an offer to come back in September. I can't wait.
Back at the Yates place afterwards the jamming continued into the wee hours. As usual, I took some stick for heading to bed early but I can't help it; that's how I am wired.

We left Edmonton for Canmore in the morning and everything appeared to be going our way. Elegwen told me later that (St.) James bought the compression tester just to help us out! It's amazing what happens to keep you going sometimes...
JO

Flower Fest

Damanta began the cross-country tour in earnest at Flower Fest July 18-21st in Seba Beach, Alberta

The weeks after North Country Fair were packed. I had to finish my exam supervision requirements at school, pack up (most of) my crap from the classroom (sorry Coleen!), help Elegwen and Jon Mauro, Damanta's new drummer, book the dates for the tour, rent the necessary gear, get the Pooka in road-read shape, rehearse for and play the farewell shows at Johnnie Fox's and say goodbye to several friends in the process. One thing I didn't have to do was submit the changes to my final grades' submission. That task was handled while I was at North Country Fair by my sister (who is also my department head) Dawn and Heidi. Thanks, ladies!

Damanta, being an Irish band, operates on Irish time which is more flexible than Sir Sandford Fleming's standard concept of time. As such, it was mid afternoon when we finally hit the road. In Hope, two hours east of Vancouver, we had to settle the towing account from the Pooka's adventure on the way back from Calgary, and we did the first installment of Damanta's Coffee and pie reviews.

We continued on the Trans-Canada Highway #1 in lieu of the #5 Coquihalla as our VW mechanic Ed at The Bug Shop in Delta told us the Coq's hills are a VW killer--"They just burst into flames," is what I believe he said.

Outside of Hell's Gate we pulled over at rest stop and met a group of Turkish-Canadians on a road trip. They were led on a loop of the BC interior that was to end in Kelowna. In exchange for an inpromtu performance, they shared watermelon and some of the spicy dish they were frying up. When everyone decided to move on we left with full stomachs and they had a Damanta CD for their car stereo. Good Deal.

I took the wheel at this point and I can confirm that my abilities with respect to manual transmissions had not improved despite the fact that I hadn't driven one since The Pooka conked out in Banff back in May. We shuddered to a start and were off. I don't really have much affinity for driving at night so driving a Volksie through the winding Fraser Canyon at night was a bit of a challenge. IT was a bit like this: Hayden's "Dynamite Walls" (minus the interior Christmas lights)...

Fortunately Jon was kind enough to set the iPod to the Phil Collins/Genesis playlist so I was motivated by such classics as, "Jesus He Loves Me", "In the Air Tonight" and "Land of Confusion" to keep me motivated and my reflexes sharp.

We got to Kamloops after midnight and gave the sole A&W Drive Thru employee on duty fits by ordering six Mozza's and root beer (after much fatigue-induced indecision) to eat on the patio in the darkness. I was off the hook at this point and Jon took over while I slept in the back.

I awoke in Rogers Pass at 6am where we were disappointed to see that the only gas station was closed. It was touch and go to see if we'd have enough gas to make it to Golden. Fortunately, it was mostly downhill and we coasted in on fumes. I took the wheel out of Golden and was happy when we made it through Banff where the Pooka conked out last time. At Canmore Elegwen introduced us to James at the Wapiti campground, who help Elegwen out immeasurably when he was waiting for repairs in may before continuing on the back roads north from Cochrane.

Finding Flower Fest after arriving at Seba Beach from the south was a bit of a trick. We actually had to go to the Yellowhead Highway and find the #55 Rural Road and exit off the side. We knew we were in the right place when we saw the hand-painted sign and once we'd parked the Pooka we realized that we'd stumbled onto something special.

Flower Fest is actually an extension of an Edmonton Institution, The Little Flower Open Stage. It is run by Brian Gregg an amazing guitarist who once opened for Led Zeppelin and now busks and runs a site called electronic busker where you can listen to the music and pay what you want/can. At any rate, Brian and his team of volunteers has developed a loyal following at the open stage and once a year, the gang heads an hour outside Edmonton to sing and play music together at "the world's best micro music festival," in Seba Beach, Alberta.

Despite the threat of rain, Damanta braved the elements and played our opening set outside. It was well received and we managed to get to the general store in time to procure hot dogs for dinner. What..? There was a fire pit. A weenie roast is mandatory, non? There was a sing-a-long but being too burnt out from the overnight drive, I left it to Jon and Elegwen to hold the torch high for the band and I retired to the tent.

An early morning run and swim in the lake later I was feeling good enough to head down to a "side stage" know to Flower Fest-ers as "The End of the World". It is essentially a clearing 15 minutes walk into the woods. Once there Doctor John, formerly the head of the University of Alberta Geography department, gave a totally engaging set of Country Folk Blues that I really dug. I even picked up a few guitar tricks watching him.

Back at the main site I jammed with our next-van neighbour (another!) John--him on Dobro, myself on guitar. In an example of 21st century jam protocol I sang the words to Blue Rodeo's "Five Days in May" by reading them off my iPod. When it came time for our Damanta's second second set at the fest, we decided to play it in our Baroque Faerie masks. It was actually way cooler than it sounds.

I have always found it quite socially liberating to put on a costume (fancy dress) and this was no exception. I found myself interacting with crowd way more than usual. The set sounded great and I changed a broken string in less than 3 minutes--a new personal best. As we were packing up a little redhead girl walked by and said, "You guys aren't crazy enough to be rock stars!" Hmm, I guess I'll have to keep working on that crowd interaction thing...

The evening included a potluck dinner (delicious!) and performances by Doctor John with a full band and our new friend Pascal Lecours' band, including his 7 year old daughter, a certain redhead named Gaetane, on drums. I was too sunstroked to take any of this in or to hit the camp fire (I was actually in the tent before sun down) but I understand that Jon and Elegwen lit it up. However, as I was drifting off to sleep I did hear Gaetane casting a spell on Jon that would turn him into a rock star...

As most parties were packing up Sunday morning the three members of Damanta went down to the lake for a swim and during the walk there I reflected on how Flower Fest's relaxed family vibe most be a lot like folk festivals were before you had to have sold hundreds of thousands of units to play at one. Everyone talks to everyone, people jam together and play in each other's sets, there is no security required or desired. We met some many new friends and made new fans at will. There is something to say for festivals like North Country Fair that walk the line between Flower Fest and the commercial folk festivals in Calgary, Edmonton, Vancouver, Mission and Salmon Arm but I really enjoyed Flower Fest.

Sunday afternoon brought a set by Bob Cook and his Mucho Nada Band and I found myself singing along and chair dancing (too hot to stand up) while we shared grapes with Gaetane. Afterwards we talked with Bob about playing different venues in Alberta and his experiences playing in a resort bar in Mexico. Cool stuff.

Brian let us camp out an extra evening on the site when everyone else had gone home. Jon and I helped him hang some flowers painted on plywood down at "The End of the World". When Elegwen joined us later, we sat around the fire and Brian told us about Pastafarian-ism and we cooked the rest of our hot dogs. In the morning we packed up (all the instruments we in the front seats of the van), had a final swim in the lake and hit the Yellowhead Trail for Edmonton.

The Pooka was having a hard time getting up the hill to the highway and we hoped it was just cold from sitting still for three days...
JO

North Country Fair

Damanta spent the solstice playing the North Country Fair in Driftpile, Alberta from June 19-22

Well, when we last left The Pooka (Damanta’s tour Van, a 1973 VW Westphalia) it was in Canmore getting repaired after losing the starter engine in Banff on the way to Calgary. Elegwen spent a week in Canmore at the Wapiti Municipal Campground with James the manager playing music and selling T-shirts and CDs and to pay for gas money to get home. With the repairs completed he headed home and busted the alternator belt in Salmon Arm. Canadian Tire charged him an hour of shop labour to install it and then outside of Hell’s Gate on the Trans-Canada he lost power and couldn’t restart resulting in a $500 tow to Hope. This is all to say that The Pooka was not available for service when it was time to head to North Country Fair from June 19th to 22rd.

So we had to fly to Edmonton and catch the $15(!) airport shuttle into the Greyhound Station where Matt, our bassist in Alberta, would pick us up. Bus stations are never the most wholesome places in any given town and Edmonton’s was no exception. We unloaded our gear between garbage cans that hadn’t been emptied since King Ralph had abdicated and the regurgitated remains of somebody’s alcohol and pizza binge of a few days previous. On the plus side, there were no used syringes in sight!

So it was not surprising that I was happier than could normally be expected when Matt rounded the corner in his mom’s Ford _AURU_ (formerly Taurus). He drove us to his parents’ place, an amazingly appointed dwelling near the provincial museum off Stony Plain road to meet up with Todd Biffard the drummer and rehearse for the first time as a unit.

The practice went really well, with Todd and Matt, who had played together previously in their days at Humber College in Toronto, finding their groove immediately and Elegwen and I hopping on for the ride. We packed up for a show across town at The Blue Chair. Without the roof rack installed it took two trips to get the gear and band over. Once at the the Blue Chair I learned the hard lesson about cultivating a fan base. Without one you have shows like this where there are only five people in attendance (and three of them were Matt’s parents and his brother, Malcom). From this point on we were more diligent getting emails to develop the fan list so this would not happen again. Incidentally, Elegwen did manage to sell a CD to the other couple that were there…

After the show Matt took Todd home and began phoning friends to see who we could crash with. We ended up at the Yates’ place on the North Side. What great people! Warren and Fiona offered us not only shelter but a chance to jam. Even though Matt had a TV gig the next morning he stuck around long enough to show some upright bass chops on some Damanta material.

Fiona gave us a ride to Matt’s in the morning and we arrived in time to help Matt’s Dad, Malcolm and Todd install the roof box we would need to get all the stuff to the fair. Matt got back a bit late from his TV gig (promoting the Jazz Fest) and we didn’t quite have the car loaded so we didn’t actually leave until 2pm—We were on at 6:30 and it was a four hour drive...We got a speeding ticket just outside of the city limits and then stopped at the worst stocked and worst staffed truck stop I have ever been to (and having done a ton of bicycle touring, I’ve stopped at quite a few…)in North America. With a bit extra juice on the accelerator-but not so much that the RCMP would object, Matt got us there half an hour before our set. We knew we weren’t in Kansas (or Vancouver) anymore when we pulled off the highway onto the backroads and began to see bullet riddled street and stop signs.

Despite some feedback issues (hey, it was early in the festival for the sound guys too!) it was a pretty good set to open a festival. Attendance was spotty as we were the second act on stage and most people were setting up their campsites. After the set I discovered one of the things that makes NCF special—they have a instrument check. You leave your stuff backstage and porters(!) take it to the trailer for you. I could get used to this folk star life if this is what it’s like!


After the set we were heading to the performer tent to get our badges, wristbands, programs and such when we came up against an SUV on the access road. Matt gave a little bit too much room and…We ended up in the ditch. Fortunately, the facilities organizer was coming by on a quad and promised to get the tractor immediately to pull us out. Todd and I continued on foot and Elegwen and Matt remained behind to wait for rescue. It was then that they met the Ory Noman band and Deep Dark woods for the first time.

After we sorted the performer stuff and the car we got to experience the next thing that makes NCF special: The Food. Performers and volunteers are fed three times a day by volunteers. What a great deal. Free camping, free food AND porters. What more could you ask for?!?

How about all night mayhem? Performances at this solstice themed festival go until 3am and campfire jams go even longer. I was not ready for this. With all the marking, moving and running around for Tarkin’s CD release I was way too tired to be out past 1am. This is not to say I didn’t enjoy myself that first night. I met and learned from members of Deep Dark Woods and The Re-Mains, a country rock and roll outfit from Australia that are touring Canada this summer. Mick, the band’s dobro player, told me about how he changed the shocks in their van in a Thunder Bay, Canadian Tire parking lot. I marvelled at his mechanical prowess and wondered what passer by thought of it all while it was going on.

Matt and I then proceeded to grace the campfire with the worst rendition of “Have you Ever Seen the Rain” that human ears have been subjected to (yes, even worse than this!); Matt singing like and instrumentalist and myself compounding the issue by playing the wrong chords and not knowing the lyrics. Strangely, everyone else began commenting about how hard their travel had been and mentioning their early sets tomorrow at that point…I went over and saw Kris Demeanour, from Sakatchewan, on a side stage but bailed before the Re-Mains were on when the stage lost its generator.

OUR set actually was early (translation: at noon) the next morning. Todd, who’d been up since 9:30am, got the rest of us going. Elegwen had stayed up late for the Re-Mains and also saw the Ory Noman Too band who he couldn’t get enough of (see youtube link above). Once again the crowd was sparse but we did a pretty good set at the Shady Grove stage. Bits of this performance can be seen on Youtube in the video for Fall Song.

Afterwards we met with the Nicky Tams to discuss our Sunday workshop on the main stage. We practiced some arrangements, learned each other's tunes and then it was time for the evening entertainment. I saw Deep Dark Woods at the Dragonfly stage and the Re-Mains on the main stage. I crashed out “early” at 12am even though it was still twilight out. It was pretty shocking how long it stays light that far north. No Northern Lights though.

A thunderstorm came overnight and it was still raining Sunday when we got up for our set. It was really fun even if we began to realize that as the new kids on the NCF block we were getting the least choice performance times. The Nicky Tams have a fantastic guitarist named Jeff Ramsey so I played tenor banjo for the whole set. A nice stretch of the brain for me and it allowed for some cool sounds. We finished the set with Tool’s “Sober” and when, as had happened several times over the weekend, the power went out we just played it acoustic at the edge of the stage and everyone gathered up front to dance and sing along. Miraculously, the power cam back in right on the downbeat and the place went nuts.

The rest of the day was petty chilled out as people began to pack up. We got to witness the closing ceremony of the festival in which Mary Rankin of Edmonton sings a song whose chorus is, “Love, Love, Love, Love. Love, Love, Love, Love,” while everyone present joins hands and circles around each other. I’ve never seen anything like it and will likely not again until I return to NCF. I got to walk around the HUGE site with Matt and Todd and learned the hard way that when the campers go home, the toilet paper in the port-a-johns is not replaced. Good thing I had my NCF program with me!

We collected our merchandise and sales proceeds, had dinner and were getting ready for a chilled out evening when Elegwen said we should play at the volunteers party in the evening. I didn’t know if I’d be able to stay up that late but the Re-Mains were going to play and I wanted to see them again so I agreed. Elegwen actually got to sit in with the guys with his uilleann pipes. We had to wait a long time afterwards before we went on and I surprised myself when I loaned my guitar to the group preceding us. It was super cold and I had on my Newfoundland Salt and Pepper wool hat, an Aran Islands sweater and a scarf when we hit the stage around 2am.

During sound check a fiddler was plugging in and I figured he was playing the between acts filler slot. The sound guy though he was with us and nobody really questioned his presence until Elegwen asked him, “Are you meant to play with us?” He answered in the affirmative and while we were wondered who had set this up we were happy to have a fiddler play along. We opened with “The Drunken Priests of Donegal” and 2/3 of the way through the song our fiddler friend leans into his mic and says, “Guys! Guys, we have to start again!”

Needless to say we kept playing and after the song the sound guy came up to me and asked, “What is with your fiddler?!?”

“He’s not with us,” I responded. Security removed him quickly after that. Later on I heard he dropped two tabs of acid.

We absolutely rocked the rest of the set. It was our biggest crowd of the festival and they really enjoyed it. Then again, it could have been the drugs. I’ve never been in a place with so many high people in my life. It was quite surreal to be one of the only sober people there. We played Jethro Tull’s “Acres Wild” the best we’d done all weekend and the Tool cover went over well again. I can’t wait to try some effects on the banjo for that one.

We were up early the next day and with no deadline had a more sedate ride home: with no tickets, no going in the ditch and no near misses getting on the highway (like during Friday night's beer run). I'm not saying anything about Matt's driving here, I'm just saying...

Seriously though, we would not have been able to get there and have so much fun without him and his family's help. So on behalf of the band I'd like to thank Matt for driving and Matt's parents' for the use of the car, the roof rack and the house as a base for the weekend. It's the way bands like Damanta can continue to tour. Thanks a million!

JO