Revelstoke BC: Slow Dancing

It's a pretty nice day as we set out from Invermere, BC. We've got only about four or five hours of driving ahead of us— and it should be quite relaxing and scenic if the weather holds. We've spent the morning— or rather I've spent the morning— in a little cafe bakery that has WiFi. There's somebody, or something, stalking this tour. Like a little black cloud hiding just out of our vision. I can't quite figure it out, but the Tour council, Paul Sanderson, is working on it, as is publicist Richard Flohil. Thank goodness for the team. As it is, it swallows the morning and leaves me feeling drained.


Dave was out shopping while I did the laptop and cell phone shuffle. He managed to pick up some scarfy blues collection cds, so we've got some interesting stuff to listen to as the weather sweeps in and out around us. It's an odd compilation from Japan, I think. A young Johnny Winter, Muddy, John Lee Hooker... The miles go by easy.


It's a good mountain run from Invermere to Golden, BC, where we stop off to buy gas and visit my pals Caleb and Niki at Bacchus Books and Cafe. We chat for a bit and grab a bite to eat as well. I'm sorry we are not playing Golden this time around. We were going to play here if the Cultural Centre could not secure the Downchild Blues Band. But they did. Well, I can't blame them— it's going to be a great show. Forty year anniversary tour! Wow. These are all great guys, and great musicians. Congrats, Donnie. I hope you all travel safe and have many more years of success. My old partner and friend, Colin Linden is opening for the band— and probably playing with them, too. So... this time around Dave and I are booked to Revelstoke and, as it is a new stop for the Tour, we are looking forward to it.


The Downchild folks are somewhere out on this highway, too, but our paths are not going to bring us together this day. Big Road.


Some serious looking mountains around here, but the weather holds for us, and soon we are exiting the TransCanada for Revelstoke. Nice to be rolling in early.


The Regent Inn looks pretty nice from the outside as we do the drive-by and scope out parking and load in arrangements.


As it happens, there is plenty of parking, and the place is very nice inside as well. A very friendly and efficient staff get us checked in, fed, and set up in fairly short order.


The room itself is a big, bright bar. Not like this pic above— best I could grab for some reason! It has a huge DJ set up, masses of lights, dance floor, sub-woofers. More of a band room— it has that loud quality already in the late afternoon. Two guys at a table jump up as we come in. They demand autographs. They want to buy t-shirts. They say I look just like my picture on "the album cover," and they would recognize me "anywhere." Clearly, they haven't got a clue who I am— or they are pulling a bad joke for reasons I can't imagine.

An early start for tonight's show. It's a thin crowd of business guests and travellers. A few young people— dressed for clubbing. Everyone talks or shouts loudly through our first show. During the break they tell us how wonderful we are. I talk to a couple of twenty-something girls at one of the front tables. They tell me they are going to "get their tits done" before an upcoming Mexican holiday. They slow dance together during our second set, but I'm pretty sure that they are waiting for the DJ. The club is quite crowded by the end of or second show, but we're done. Really. I never do get to meet the manager, or the local radio personality that helped me book this show. And I think this is the only gig on the Tour where we haven't drawn fans. Next time the Tour comes through Revelstoke we'll need to change that.

We break down the PA and load out immediately after our set. It's now cool outside, and I notice that my suit is steaming in the parking lot air. Our little Long and McQuade PA worked great in this big room. I love these modern sound systems. There was a time when bins for a gig like this would of required another truck! As it is, a couple of carries and we are loaded. I throw a blackout tarp over the gear. It is insured, and the parking lot is bright and highly visible. I don't like loading out this way, but we should be fine. Guitars, of course, sleep with me in my room. Dave is early to bed, while I have a scotch with a table of golf course designers. I follow after but one wee dram— eager to find some silence and some sleep.

High Road to Invermere, BC

It's a glorious day! Rick drops Big Dave off at Hoogie and Suzanne's, in Black Diamond, AB, where I am staying. It is not often I meet folks I like as much as these! And I like their dogs, too. I feel humbled by their genuine western hospitality and manners. After yet another cup of cowboy coffee, we say our good-byes and get on the road. We're going to zig south out of Black Diamond and pick up one of my favourite secondary highways— by-passing Calgary to link to the TransCanada just outside Banff, AB. This road runs north through the mountains, and we have to drive past Ian Tyson's place on today's route. I doubt that we'll see more than a couple of trucks for the next couple of hours. Just us and the open (I hope!) road. They shut this one down in the winter months and we're getting close to that time.









Nice drive, don't you think?


Invermere is a pretty little resort town. In season it must really jump. At the moment, the streets are pretty quiet. My pal Leslie Alexander turned me on to this place. Big Dave used to play at a big dance hall down by the lake, but apparently that was back in The Day. Before the place burnt down, that is. Anyway, we see a roadside sign with our names on it as we are coming into town, so we are hoping for the best.

A classic sedan delivery outside the venue flags it for us. We wander in and meet Tony, the owner/chef/guy who makes it happen. He's a foodie, for sure, and I have no doubt that we will be well fed! We've got a bit of a carry to the stage door with our PA. I don't mind, and Dave doesn't complain, but I think he's probably hurting. I wish he would just let me lug all the gear! As usual, our Long and McQuade PA sets up fast and easily, and sounds great with just a couple of SM57 and 58 mics. Strands is a good sounding little room, well suited for acoustic shows. The staff are all very nice to us, and we are very much looking forward to this evening's show! Meanwhile Tony directs us to our lodgings— a well appointed guest house just a couple of blocks away.

With time to kill, we make a grocery run, a vitamin stop, and head back to the house to relax for a while before suiting up. Nice beds, gas fireplace, deer running in the front yard...

All dressed we make our way in the front doors. Strands is upscale without being pretentious. Comfortable. We are seated and fed like kings. Dave and I really appreciate the care the staff take to see to our comfort and needs. A large tip is left in thanks. Showtime, and it is a mixed crowd here tonight. Birthdays and business dinners, and a "girls night out" group. People who have heard us recently on the CBC and on CKUA. Honeymooners. Some listen hard. Some talk through the show. But all in all, they are a pretty good bunch, and we are able to deliver a good show to them. At the end of the evening we wander through the tables shaking hands, signing CDs, getting our pictures taken, chatting like old friends.

Dave takes it upon himself to break the PA down while I am taking care of the business end of the evening. This is one of the great things about working with Dave— we both know what to do, we don't need to ask or delegate. All the jobs big and small seem to get done both well and on time, and quite cheerfully. We love what we do, and we've each been at this nearly 40 years. Still, tonight I'm worried about Dave's hernia condition. I'd be just as cheerful if he'd waited for me to lift the bins down. I KNOW you can do it, Dave!


Back at the house we put on the gas fireplace, change into sleep clothes, and relax with a late snack. I get out the new mandolin and figure out how to tune it. This is not a fine instrument, although it does look cool. It should be suitable for me to fool around on and perfect my Yank Rachel chops! Now an amazing thing happens. The doorbell rings. Who can it be? It's late. There's a car in the drive with its lights on and its motor running... Opening the door we are surprised to see Tony from the venue. What could be wrong? Did either of us lose anything at the restaurant, asks Tony. Perhaps some money? Sure enough, I'm missing my cash float of about $300 from my jacket pocket! Calmly, Tony hands me the money. "The girls found this when they were cleaning up," he said. Wow. Tony and his staff are a class act all the way down to the end. How often would a wad of small bills find its way back to its owner?? I feel stupid at somehow having lost this, but very grateful and humbled by its return to me. Tony bids us good-bye and good night. I marvel at the goodness of the world, and hope I can live up to the same standards myself.