Monday, July 23, 2007

Trinity Alps




Other than "I need more of this", there's not a lot you can say to describe waking up next to a mountain lake with your dog and friends. And your friend's dog.

Trail Gulch Lake, Klamath National Forest.

Monday, July 9, 2007

High Sierra Festivaaaaaaaaaal!

High Sierra '07 ruled. It was Sasha's first, Sara's third, and my sixth. I saw at least 27 bands in 4 days.

This show is one of those events where everyone's a participant. The bands seem to really like the show, and the people take care of eachother. Way better than Reggae, Bonnaroo, Hog Farm, etc. It's just a really positive place to be.


The festival this year was super hot. When we got to Quincy, it was hundo-plus. We saw 110 on a thermometer, which was sort of scary, what with the baby and all. The drive was fine; we stayed in Susanville the night before and somewhere along the way the odometer made a pretty pattern.

Bringing a six-month old into these dirty, noisy, hot, debaucherous conditions demands a little prep: earplugs, misting-bottle, jogging stroller, sunscreen, etc. Her whole life Sasha has been sporting eco-groovy cloth diapers; I'm sad to report that we broke the seal on our first-ever disposable diapers this weekend. Seriously, though. Would you want super-thick underwear on in those conditions? No. It'd be nasty. But as it turns out, disposable diapers work damn well in heat. We just have to buy some "disposable-diaper offsets" somewhere and we'll be good with the green police.

Jen and Box (my co-worker and her husband) got on site earlier than us and locked down a spacious, shady spot replete with coffee table, shade parachute, and parking spot right next to the site.

We got on site by late morning and were set up by lunch. Janet, Joey and Larry showed up shortly thereafter. The CRV has a pop-out folding table built in to the trunk which I've been DYING to use at HSMF. This years' campsite was close to perfect. We were in the "family camp" area, which meant it was slightly quieter and probably less psychedelic than other camps.


OK, so music is why you're supposed to go to these things. Hanging out is a close second, and in my case I had some 'work' to do (artist interviews = backstage/photo pit access). The interviews went great and I can probably use most of both of them (ALO and Xavier Rudd). Larry introduced Devil Makes Three on the main stage and did great.


Best show: Drive By Truckers. Holy shit. Who knew???

Best musicianship: Del McCoury, who pilots his band like James Brown. Sara's big find was ThaMuseMeant.

Also great: Galactic, Brett Dennen, Devil Makes Three, ALO, Budos Band, Leftover Salmon, FutureRock, Les Claypool, Mofro, Thamusemeant, and Xavier Rudd.

Duds: Ivan Neville's Dumpstaphunk and Chris Thile.

Outstanding freakishness: Portland's March Fourth Marching Band. This was nuts; this band just invades the throng and kicks out party jams. The band doesn't really march as much as they disperse into the crowd so the music is coming from all angles. In this video clip, what you can't see is that all those people dancing were basically passed out on the field. Suddenly, the M4 shows up and within maybe 30 seconds, everybody had sprung up and started gettin' down. I have never, ever seen a crowd of strangers gel into a party so fast.


A word about JJ Grey and Mofro: Ladies love LL Cool JJ. It's musical pheremones, I think. They played a late-night set (midnight, maybe?), and by the second song the whole tent had turned into the bathhouse scene from Caligula. The females *really* enjoyed Mofro's lusty beats, and the males really enjoyed that. I've seen Mofro twice, both times this happens. I don't get it, and thankfully neither does Sara. "He's not that hot." Yeah, totally.

Larry introduced a band, but I chickened out. I was supposed to do a bunch of MCing, but the idea got worse as it became more realistic. No thanks. "Oh, you guys look like you have it covered. I'd just get in the way. "

Anyway, there were way too many little amazements to blog into. You walk around getting compliments from strangers, giving out fruit juice, talking to anyone, staying up as late as you can, and checking out everyone's freak flag. For me, it's tuly one of the most valuable ways to spend time.

I'll leave it alone by saying that for a few days, life was almost completely perfect. And for a few select moments, it was literally perfect.


Monday, July 2, 2007

West swell 2.5 @ 7

How's Camel Rock looking? Great? Not a great as Powerpoles was yesterday. I promise.

Normally, a 2-and-a-half-foot wave is something you'd not even waste gas on looking at. The forecast was micro, the wind was nil, and the beach was empty.

Turns out there was a little juice behind the swell, which was a clean W pulse. Minus tide, the water was glassy, the waves were waist-high in the sets, and it was just one of those days where you sit outside the lineup in a state of exaltation. Zeke caught some rights and lefts, and I worked on some off-the-lip floaters, 360s, and other shortboarder baloney that normally I'd never be caught dead attempting. Also, the added danger of a rumored shark sighting two days before just added to it.

I'm just sayin', it was epic and tiny simultaneously. (Although we did break my latest mantra: "Don't look, just go.")

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We're heading out to Sasha's first High Sierra. The lineup is great as always, and it's looking like I'm going to introduce some bands early in the day. Freaky? Yes. Fun? Sort of. Good enough reason to not start drinking until the evening? Definitely.

Anyway, we're both really excited to get back to this show. It's probably our favorite festival in terms of vibe, quality of experience, location, and lineup. (Coachella looks good and Bonnaroo was fun, though.)





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Lastly, I'm finising up on the first episode of my first-ever temporary side gig. This syndicated public radio show (300+ stations in 9 countries) lost their post-production engineer and needed someone to get them through until they find a permanent replacement. So far, so good. Gary Melton would be favorably impressed with their lack of plosives, EQ, aesthetically-pleasing crossfades, etc.