7/25/11 Horning's Hideout, Oregon

After my adventuring in the Mt. Hood wilderness, I left back west past Portland to catch the 10th annual bluegrass festival, Northwest String Summit located at Horning's Hideout nestled in the forest of North Plains.

The weekend was kicked off with a bluegrass band competition to see who will come back to play a set the following year. Next on stage was Cascadia Project with Darol Anger and friends followed by Keller and the Keels. Last but not least, Yonder Mountain String Band opened up the Friday night with Ten and jammed through the night until it was time to shut down. The music maybe have stopped on stage, but the night was more alive than ever as people scattered in the forest forming groups as many others wandered around, stumbling into other tents. A man in a full on chicken suit clucks by as a pirate dances with his pet parrot who gave anyone a beak kiss who passed by. Drunkards wake up from slumber with sharpie written all over themselves as other walk the path butt ass naked selling clothes.

Missing a handful of shows the next morning I slept off the night before and kicked it in the woods with new friends camped out nearby. I made it to the stage bowl just in time to catch Railroad Earth in action playing many songs unknown by me but I could feel their music rolling through my body, feeling the body heat bear on me from the beautiful audience around me. YMSB joined up on stage for one of the most spectacular shows I have ever experienced as they gave tribute to the 10th anniversary of the Northwest String Summit. Also Darol Anger, "the unofficial 5th member of YMSB, fiddle madness" joined the band on stage for every single show! Not only that, but they did not hesitate to bring up all of their friends to jam including performances from Drew Emmit, Keller Williams, Danny Barnes, Todd Snider, and Larry Keel.

This was not just a festival for the people. This was a festival for the bands, as you could see it in each and every one of them that this was a place for family and joy all around. I found great spot right under Dave Johnson, the banjo player, as I tried to study his finger picking style while the world around me begins to bend. The lights on stage glow bright and the music falls deep inside me as they began to wrap up for the night.

After the Saturday night encore, I grabbed my banjo and beer and wandered the forest on a musician's march, gathering anyone with an instrument I could find. It began with a mandolin player to the guitar player and somehow ended up with the largest bluegrass jam I have been apart of with more than fifteen musicians joining in on the mystical night. We found ourselves playing bluegrass all night long until the sun came up under a large disco ball nestled in the forest with people all around dancing and getting into the groove. We were in a music groove, zen mode, without any recollection of time until it was daylight all of a sudden and we could see everyone around us. It was at this time we decided it would be best to stop and catch any rest possible.

With only a couple hours to sleep, the next morning began with a shot, a few beers, brownie and chocolate mushroom as I set off towards the stage to catch Elephant Revival, which played with my mind all morning as the melody ran through my soul and off into space. Deprived of sleep and feeling the effect of the chocolate I ate earlier I sat and observed the beauty of the festival around me. While my mind was working on gathering consciousness in this reality, Danny Barnes along with Drew Emmitt and Larry Keel took the stage to warm us up for the final upcoming show.

Jeff Austin, the mandolin madness, joined on stage with a unifying yell as he opened the final act with Ramlin' in the Rambler, one of my all time favorite songs, as I secured a spot in front stage in front of the bass amp feeling Ben Kaufmann's melody echo inside of me. Maybe it was the essence of the festival, maybe it was sleep deprivation , or possibly the psilocyben influence on my dopamine neurotransmitter that made me feel the spiritual presence that day, but whichever it may be, it was an experience of a lifetime. Not being able to hold back, I break down into tears as a large jug is passed around accepting donations for Lilli. At 8 months, Lilli was diagnosed with leukemia and the band ever since has supported her with donations to her family and to various children's cancer foundations. The band played their most heartfelt song as the crowd filled the tub up with money, as tears of pain and joy filled through the audience.

                                           Photo Courtesy of Emages "a.k.a. Eric Martin"


I felt emotions that weekend that I had never experienced before and with a near death experience a few days earlier, I had never felt so alive. The festival closed out with the song Southern Flavor, as the people leave back to the tents where we would camp out just one more night, wishing it would never end. After another night of camping, I packed up the car and drove on my way to continue the journey a more peaceful man than before. Leaving Horning's, the two peacock's residing on the festival grounds say their goodbyes along with the volunteers as I head off north to Washington.

7/21/11 Mt. Hood Wilderness, OR

I drive my trekking poles into the sandy ash as I commit all of my strength to peak this ridge. Using what looked like a solid rock, I thrust myself upwards, until everything turns to shit. The rock used as leverage goes tumbling down the hill as I slide down the mountain 50 feet down with 40 pounds of gear upon my shoulders until I catch myself with one pole as I stare down into the deep ravine of the glacier. As if that wasn't enough, boulders twice the size of my head come rolling down after me threatening another fall as they slam into my ankles as I try to move out of the way. Standing up, my thigh screams in pain as I lay back down unable to move. Injured and scared at 10,000 feet, I begin to realize this could be one of the worst decisions I have made and every move here on out could possibly be one my last.

I embarked early morning Wednesday to hike the 42 mile loop around Mt. Hood, unknowing that no one has yet hiked the trail this year due to the conditions. Within the first 5 miles of the trail at the first river crossing, the trail had been washed away with no tracks to follow as I wandered down the river lost. After another few miles off track I ended up at a ski resort on the east side of the mountain where I saw that the rest of the trail would be virtually impossible. Pointed in the direction back to the lodge I decided it was time to turn around.

Being 10 miles away from the lodge by foot, I yet again got lost within the first mile due to the snow and lack of foot travel. I started to travel towards Mt. Hood and without finding the trail I decided to keep trekking up the mountain where I would try to slide down on the south side of the mountain to the lodge where I began. Gaining on the mountain peak with no path to follow it became more and more dangerous with boulders continuing to fall down the volcanic sand and pockets of snow that fall through while driving the trekking poles into the ground to see if it is safe. It was up here where my injury occurred and made everything that more complicated.

The shadow of the mountain started to creep on me as I slowly head towards the peak to try to find a point to cross to the south side of the volcano, stopping every few minutes to my leg burning in agony. The shadow passed over me as the sun dropped below the south peak and I could not continue any further as I found no way to get across towards the lodge. I began to crawl back down the mountain in dusk with every step more difficult than the last due to my leg muscle causing problems. I finally got down to the riverside at the base of the mountain after it was pitch dark out which turned out to be just as challenging trying to walk along all of the boulders watching out for rocks tumbling down on each side. The river ran rapidly as I tried to find the best spots to cross as you weave in and out of the river with only a headlight to guide the way.

After crossing the river several times I stopped cold as I see glowing pair of eyes emerge from the darkness and start to walk towards me. Although I had no clue what kind of animal it could have been, I did not want to chance it as I pulled out my knife and back tracked out of their way. By this time, my feet are soaking wet and filled to the top with sand and rocks, pointless to take them off since they would fill right back up within five minutes. There I was hiking through the endless canyons with it coming on to midnight when I finally found a sandy spot flat enough to set up a tent.

The next morning did not feel well as I finally climbed out of the tent into the wet, windy world that took place in the back country. After yet another 10 or so miles I stumbled across the trail and limped my way back towards the lodge where I finally emerged from the forest to civilization. There in the freezing rain and wind, a medic came and quickly helped me out by bringing a wheelchair and taking me to a warm place to rest.
Mountaineering is by means no petty deal to be taken for granted and should be attempted with another companion and with the proper gear. Despite the unfortunate conditions that were laid upon me that week I still much enjoyed the humble and beautiful experience of the back country at Mt. Hood. Then after hours of living out some music on the grand piano in the lodge I left to continue my journey to the 10th annual Northwest String Summit.

7/19/11 Timberline Lodge, Oregon

Here I am sitting in comfort in the Timberline Lodge resting at the base of Mt. Hood, the largest mountain in Oregon and also one of the only ski resorts still functioning during the summer. Stepping outside, you get slammed by harsh, strong winds and 20 degree weather, which is a complete climate change than at the bottom of the mountain.
Oregon has been one of the most beautiful states I have ever come to know.

From the Redwood forest in California, Jon and I headed north to Oregon soon to realize that we could not afford to drive the truck back to Salt Lake City where he was to fly out of today. Passing through Eugene, we made it to Portland, OR which has been one of the strangest cities by far. With bumper stickers all over town saying "Keep Portland Wierd" it did not take long to see why this was the case. The reason for going to the city was to make money playing music on the streets but was a harsh reality when it seemed there were tons of rainbow family who had the same idea and the streets were littered with hundreds of panhandlers, and musicians.

With no way of making funds we were stuck in the city until Scott, the previous employer from Michigan sent me some of the money that he had owed me for a month. With some money in our hands we headed off back to the forest where we met a friend name Tillghman, who ended up camping out with us.  Tillghman was from Reno, visiting to hit the slopes of Mt. Hood on his snowboard, but with the weather how it was, which was a constant rain every single day, we camped out for a few days and hiked in the area to great spots including Cascade Falls.
It was after our camping expedition that I drove Jonathan back to Portland where he took a Greyhound bus over to Salt Lake City.
Although sad that he had to leave at the time, I was most definitely looking forward to sleeping in my twin bed by myself once again. I slept a night at the IHOP in the area best known by Portland as "Felony Flats" then headed back to our original camping spot. Met some new campers, Brett and Kate, and we all camped out until by no surprise out came Tillghman again. After yet another night of camping, drinking, and shooting targets with a sling shot we parted ways with the folk from Montana and headed to the Timberline Lodge where I would try to begin to Timberline Trail, a 42 mile hike around Mt. Hood that I will try to complete in two days.

I was told by locals and Brett that it still may be dangerous to try to hike the timberline since the weather has been a month behind and there was still tons of snow. I will take their advice with caution and see how far I can actually get on the trial.

7/10/11 Arcata, California

Tom the tie-dye man. There shall one day be a song written about this fellow. He was a vendor set up on King's Beach in Lake Tahoe selling clothing while we played music next to his tent. Tom was one of the friendliest people I have ever come to known as we had good times enjoying the fireworks and learning new material on the instruments. The last night at Tahoe, we stayed overnight at the casino parking lot and decided to follow him back to his house nestled in the mountains a couple of hours away from the lake. If Tom was any less of the the utmost kindness I don't believe we would have made it there since it was somewhat skeptical when he asked that we turn off our phones if we came to visit his place "Off the Grid".

Off the grid may be an understatement for this place as we weaved in and out of sharp turns and steep grade along the gravel road for miles of forest. A very fascinating fellow, Tom lived in a self sustaining community of less than fifteen or so people for a annual cost of less than $1,000. Everything that ran in his household were run by large solar panels located outside next to the chicken pen. All of their food and agriculture was grown on the lot and gave them little reason to need to leave the area but maybe once a month. Thankfully we were able to complete our laundry the old school way as we hung up our clothes to dry on line and clothes pins outside. We decided to stay there for the night and enjoy the quietness and solitude of living off of the grid.

He was a joyous man, not caring for money, or the problems and drama involved with the normal life. He liived in the real world and loved every moment of it. The night was ended with a few cases of Sierra Nevada, a candlelight sushi dinner, and warm saki to finish it off. Tom, the tie-dye, barefoot, hippie will be met up again in the future, that is if I ever remember how the heck we ended up to his house.

We left off the grid, california to head towards San Franciso wheere we spent little time in Golden Gate park enjoying the floral and nature arrangements they had there. From San Franciso, we left north on Hwy 1 which is the coastal road from the city all the way to Oregon passing through the Redwood National Forest. After the long, windy ride of the cload covered coastal road, we camped out in the Redwoods for a few days also stopping my Arcata in Humboldt county. (Which is known to be the top marijuana growing region in all of America.) I ran into another traveler there that I had met in Detroit, Michigan and some other mutal friends before we hit the road past the large, ancient trees on the way to Oregon.

Seems that there are many "kids" up in the Northwest. When I refer to kids I mean the rainbow family gathering folk, which many of them get by solely by asking for free handouts. There has been many bums and spangers I have seen lately along with musicians which makes it tougher to play music for funds. Scott the painter I worked with for a month, although one of the nicest fellows, has been one of the most irresponsible as he still owes me $600 for my work in Michigan and I am broke once again trying to figure out the best route to play some banjo or get some extra work done.

Then again "money" is not the key to my journey. Nor is begging for it.

7/4/11 Lake Tahoe, California

Finished the climb to the tallest mountain in the continental U.S. and it defiantly shows by the amount of snow up there. We are moving into the month of July, a month we know as filled with hot and humid weather. Sure enough there we are, just a couple of southern boys, trekking through feet of snow without the appropriate gear to be moving very quickly. What a magnificent hike though! Due to not having shoe clamps for the snow we made it to about a mile underneath the peak and enjoyed the weather of running around in the snow summer clothing. The Mnt. Whitney was a 22 mile hike in-and-out as it was uphill one way passing through a forest covered in luscious Sequoia trees and lakes as it descended up the pass the more snowy regions on the mountain. As you keep hiking you get the a point were the hike is strictly snow and there is no true path anymore as people take their own paths through the icy mountainside.

Although we did not make it to the very top due to lack of snow gear in summer, we were able to take in all of the views and wonders below the peak. We passed many a folk heading back down due to the elevation change making them sick. Needless to say it was one of the best hikes I have experienced thus far and look forward to seeing it again in the future.

From here in the middle of the boonies in California we will be heading north passing by Yosemite National Park and into Lake Tahoe for the weekend. Since we are coming up onto the 4th of July weekend, I figured Lake Tahoe would be one of the best spots in all of California to play some music for the weekend since there should be tons of people packed all around the Lake all weekend. Upon our arrival into Lake Tahoe, we started our weekend off in Stateline, NV near the casinos and shopping plaza. We made decent tips and met a friend and worked our way to Kings Beach, a large public beach in California on Saturday.

It is the weekend of independence and freedom at Lake Tahoe and vendors are set up all over the walkways to the beach appeasing to the public as many gather from all around to enjoy the fireworks over the lake. We set up our instruments and started busking our way right next to a Tye-dye t-shirt vendor named Tom. It was a strange crowd as the tips weren't all that great since it was on the beach but we stuck around Kings Beach to hang out with Tom and Alacia, a gal who sold hair feather extensions next to us.

During this weekend we also met Jan, a woman intuited with our playing and asked how much we would charge to play for 2 hours at a party plus drinks and dinner on the 4th. We asked for $50 for the two hours and had a great time playing some county bluegrass for these friendly folk. By the end of our music session they fed us wholesomely and we walked out of there with $160 rather than the original $50. This weekend has been an awesome gather of funds to be able to reach up to northern California.  We will be camped out at the casino at the top of the hill overlooking the town of Incline Valley, Ca. Interestingly enough, the casino allows you to stay camped out there for a whole week if you register with them. Thats kinda awesome.

6/27/11 Santa Monica, California

We made it to the sunshine state of California...
After cruising around Red Canyon and Arches National Park in Moab, UT, we headed southwest to Zion National Park. It was the weekend in one of the biggest tourist spots in Utah so I was planning on making some cash playing music yet there was no nightlife in the town of Springdale in the Zion National Park and we ended up at the bar rather than playing music. There we met a biker name Chuck who informed us that we had made a mistake to party with an old man as he kept buying us shots of Crown Royal. 10+ shots of Crown and Whiskey later we closed the bar down and spent time over at their hotel next door while meeting another fellow there named Louie who was another traveler on the road. Turns out that Louie was going on the same hike as us the next day and also heading to Las Vegas.

After one incredible hike at Angels Landing in Zion we hit the sun dried road to Sin City. Walking through the trashed streets of Vegas, littered with pornography on every street. Young girls walk around like sluts as we pass Erotic museums, casinos with live dancers, and the homeless on the smut covered streets. We had a hotel to stay in with Louie as we spend the night in Vegas gambling and drinking.
Unimpressed with the Vegas lifestyle, we then took the route 15 over into California towards Los Angeles, and eventually to Venice Beach and Santa Monica. We spent the day in Santa Monica playing music and running aorund in the terrible traffic. Although there was a strange vibe about the lifestyle on the beach there, we managed to meet friendly folks all around the Venice Boardwalk.
Trying to find a safe place to sleep was a little more difficult in Santa Monica. For the two days we had stayed there, after some windy driving up the west coast, we found a perfect spot in the foothills of the mountains where other RV's and cars had settled for the night. The next day we wake up to find a ticket on our windshield for parking over the 30 minute limit between the hours of 2:00 - 4:00 a.m. where others did not get tickets on the same strip that had no signs stating no overnight parking allowed of any kind. Frustrated by the ticket we received we decided to park on the street where thousands of vehicles stay out overnight without tickets. There parked on 3rd street, I awoke in the middle of the night hearing voices floating in the wind and a few tugs on the truck. Sure enough it is 4:00 a.m. in the morning and two punks are trying to steal our bikes, oblivious to the possibility that there were two men sleeping in the back. Rushing out yelling out all sort of slang in a sleepy rage they ran off without anything of ours.
There is something terribly wrong with a policeman running you off from a safe spot to sleep only to get robbed the next day.
Our next stop is the tallest mountain inn California and of all the Continental U.S.
Onto Mt. Whitney nestled in the Sierra Nevada Mountains.