Wednesday, September 25, 2019

Horseshoe Basin

Cold, wet, windy, snowy, hot, sunny, beautiful and deeply satisfying. Our little piece of heaven in the Pasayten Wilderness.

PNW Almanac

9-19-19: 40 F at the Irongate Trailhead at noon. 1.5 hours northwest of Tonasket. Last 5.7 miles on a brutal road with patches of snow. Hiked 7.9 miles through 2006 Tripod fire, going over Sunny Pass to Smith Lake, where we set camp in the snow at around 5pm. Larches starting to get that golden hue. Not peaking quite yet. Cold, wet, windy, and rainy night.









9-20-19. Left camp at 10am. Stayed in tent in the morning because of rain, heavy at times, and wind. Knew weather was opening when we heard birds and chipmunks starting their days. Hiked 10 miles from Smith Lake to Haig Mountain, a horse camp. Weather changing all day, but mostly improving. Scrambled to a vista on Haig Mountain. Elevation: 7800 feet. The camp was nice but exposed and no obvious water source. Had we known the weather was going to be exquisite the following day, we should have looked more for a camp and made an attempt at Teapot Dome. There were some camps/water a mile or two before Haig Mountain Horse Camp. Camped behind Rock Mountain, around the corner from Louden Lake. Elevation = 7000 feet. This was an A++ campsite. Protected, spectacular views, owl hooting at night (most likely a great-horned owl), surrounded by larches turning color.












9-21-19 Spectacular morning and a day that got close to the 80s, even at 7000-8500 feet where we ended up. We walked from our campsite to Sunny Pass, where we dropped our packs and majority of our gear, other than water, then descended 700 feet and then rising again another 1000 feet to the Windy Peak Trail's junction with Chewack River trail. Spectacular views. We decided that we would make an attempt at summiting Windy Peak on a cooler day with even less stuff to carry and a smarter campsite, maybe Sunny Pass. 13 miles. Came back to Trailhead. Temp was 50 F at 5pm.

3 days, 31 miles.

Soundtrack: 6-22-73, Vancouver. Like the hike, long, exhausting, but deeply satisfying. with spacey, jazzy,  explorative versions of Bird Song, Here Comes Sunshine, China->Rider, Black Peter, Truckin'>Other One.





Friday, July 19, 2019

Canyon Lake Community Forest














7-14-19. Canyon Lake Community Forest.

68-72 F.
10:40am left house.
11:20am left car at gate.
12:35pm, left bike hidden in forest a quarter mile beyond trailhead.
3pm-ish. Made it to Old Growth Trail. Prehistoric trees from the mini ice age over 1000 years ago. 3:45pm--Ridgeview at 4000 feet. Views of Mount Baker (in the clouds) and the Twin Sisters.
4pm Left. Went wrong way, backtracked 1/3rd of a mile.
5:48pm Made it back to bike with a banana slug on it.
6:25pm Made it back to car after 7 miles of hiking and 10-ish miles of biking logging road.
7:12pm, made it to the North Fork Beer Shrine for a well deserved porter and pizza. Soundtrack: 11/30 and 12/2/73. Pinnacle space jams.

Thursday, January 03, 2019

Pacific Northwest '73-74 Complete Recordings


I got the Grateful Dead's Pacific Northwest '73-'74 Complete Recordings  box set because I love the time period for the Dead ('73-74) and I also live in the Pacific Northwest.

The box set includes the following shows:

6/22/73 Vancouver
6/24/73 Portland
6/26/73 Seattle

5/17/74 Vancouver
5/19/74 Portland
5/21/74 Seattle

The box and artwork for the Complete Recordings are truly spectacular and a joy to have in the living room if you're into the native Pacific Northwest artwork. Great job First Nations artist Roy Henry Vickers!



 The included essay in the box set doesn't have much of anything that interesting that an avid fan wouldn't already know, but worth a read for a few more details that might have slipped by. I still am wondering why, if they were hauling the expensive-to-haul Wall of Sound using multiple 18-wheelers during a time with increasing gas prices, they played in the following order (Vancouver-Portland-Seattle). Both in '73 and '74. Seems inefficient and I was hoping that somebody in the included booklet essay would shed light on that poor logistics decision (made twice). But alas...

I also got the Complete Recordings because I already had the 5/19/74 Portland and the 6/22/73 Vancouver shows easily in my top 50 of Dead shows that I have heard through the archive.org open access recordings, and it's nice to have these 2 shows on a hard copy in their re-mastered glory. Both of these shows shine with wonderful energy from start to finish and should be in the Dead canon forever. 

For me the whole show is a highlight, but others have mentioned highlights from the '73 Vancouver show, like the "Bird Song"--a mellow, meditative, jazzy, vampy 14-minute beauty. Not my favorite version (prefer 8/27/72 or 9/21/72), but the jazz-y meditative version here is different and a pleasure to hear in its remastered glory and certainly a top 5 version and a must-listen for fans of the era and song and jazzy Dead.

I play "Black Peter" on my mandolin and playing/singing it has made me realize that it's one of Garcia-Hunter's best songs ever written. The chord progressions, the lyrics, the way it flows and comes together are some of the best things Garcia-Hunter ever did. The C chords in the bridge hit like a gut shot. It’s so suggestive, tailor-made for Garcia and his voice, and feels prophetic, yet can be interpreted in a number of ways. The “Black Peters” from this era (late ’72-early ’73) are spectacular and this version is no exception. Love it!!! I also love that when you listen with headphones, you can hear the crowd loudly proclaim “Long Live the Grateful Dead” as the song is beginning—a little detail that makes me giggle with glee.

The 18-minute Playin' is really good, too. Several commenters have noted that the Dead tease, hint at, or foreshadow "Fire on the Mountain," a song that they wouldn't officially write/record for another few years, at around the 7-minute mark in the jam. Yes, the jam goes to many worlds, even to songs they hadn't written yet.

Also from this show is a wonderful 60-minute marathon medley starting with He’s Gone > Truckin’> The Other One>Wharf Rat. The long, spacey sandwich of this medley in between Truckin’ and The Other One goes through some insanely spectacular worlds and spaces, starting with a Phil solo that molds into a groove established with Billy and then once the rest of the band coalesces around this groove, it goes further and further out there. Quintessential ’73 Dead Space Jazz. Once we get to the Wharf Rat, we’ve achieved nirvana. As a jazzer and for all those others who love the ’73 Dead Space Jazz sound, this is wonderful stuff! It doesn’t get too dark and hairy (a brief minute or two) and that dark hairiness only makes the transcendence better, right?

The ’74 Portland show shines with that sunny Dead energy from start to finish. It includes a top 5 “Truckin’” for me and the 10-minute jam after it truly goes to wild places. A must-listen for any head. The “China Cat” and its transition into “I Know You Rider” are certainly required listening, too. One of my top 5 renditions of this one-two punch. Unfortunately, we lose the vocals on 4 songs from the first set. Sound problems that were not uncommon from recordings from ’74.  But other highlights include a nice “Mississippi…” opener, a beautiful “Peggy-O,” and a loose “Loose Lucy.” This “Loose Lucy” is my favorite version. Though I can’t call myself a “Loose Lucy” scholar, it’s  the second loosest of all the versions I’ve heard with the 11/11/73 taking the prize.

Okay, but what about the other shows? I wouldn’t call the other shows in the Complete Recordings A+ material like the ’73 Vancouver and ’74 Portland shows, but if you’re a deadicated head, you might want to consider the following:

The ’73 Portland show is another sunny energy show with minimal flaws. Nobody mentions the “Dark Star,” but I will. It’s a 27-minute Dark Star “Lite” which is actually quite pleasant. Definitely worth a listen. It exits into a nice “Eyes.” This sequence isn’t as good as the 11/11/73 “Dark Star”> “Eyes,” my favorite Dark Star>Eyes. But the Portland version here is nothing to sneeze at.

The 6-26-73 Seattle show has what I’d call a very mediocre first set (C- at best). It’s mediocre for the energy and sound quality. During this time period, it feels like they were a little lazy monitoring levels (this ain’t a Betty Board, folks), especially in the first sets. It also sounds like Jerry’s amp is tired. Either Jerry’s asleep or his amp isn’t sounding right or something…But then we get to the “Playing In The Band” to close the first set. If you are a Phil fan, this Playin' is required listening. He goes bananas and carries the band. You can literally hear a woman in the first row having a “music-gasm”—she is screaming with joy, going nuts on the landing after a spectacular Phil jam. And rightfully so. Like this screaming woman, I was quite pleased.

There’s an oft repeated refrain that the Dead’s first sets were just warm-up sets,  not as important as the second sets, where all the magic happens, and I find this maxim especially true in '73. And this Seattle show is a clear example. (I can see why partisan of late 80s shows have their reasons for preferring that time period as both sets could be both important and good.)

But the second set of this 6-26-73 Seattle show really makes up for the lackluster first set. If Jerry was asleep in the first set, somebody fixed his amp and passed him some kind, kind stuff and he is firing on all cylinders. Right out of the gate, Bertha> Promised Land shreds. They Love Each Other is the bounciest version I’ve ever heard—Jerry slays vocally, too. The Big River, like most from this era, is just a Garcia-Weir guitar clinic on how to play honky tonk country guitar. The interplay between them and Billy’s perfect shuffle is just off the charts here for those who love Country Dead. Billy has got to be one of the most underrated and subtle jazz drummers.

The “Here Comes Sunshine” isn’t as good as the Vancouver show or nearly as good as the 12-19-73 version (the greatest “Sunshine” ever), but it’s still worth a listen. The meat of the set “He’s Gone”>Truckin’>The Other One (sandwiched by Me and Bobby McGee) isn’t as long as other marathon medleys but makes up for it in inventiveness. Starting with a satisfying “He’s Gone”—if  it were any more laid back, they’d fall over, it turns on a dime to “Truckin’,” a reminder that my favorite era of Jerry’s guitars was the Alligator era—his ’57 Fender Strat just has a smooth country honky tonk blues feel with a knife edge to the belly when he needed it. “The Other One” is very much another space jazz version, very jazzy at the beginning and then goes to deep, disturbing and scary space at the end of the reprise—last couple of minutes, almost too out there, Phil, dude, relax.

Let’s move on to the other ’74 shows. The 5/17/74 Vancouver show overall is a C effort. I think the band is still getting used to the power of the Wall of Sound. You can feel its power and potential, but they haven’t learned to wield the power of the Wall of Sound yet. (I have a long-winded description of the Wall of Sound here.) 

If 5/17/74 is lackluster, there are still 2 noteworthy songs from the show. For me, I prefer ’72 and ’73 versions of the Playin' in the Band—it just doesn’t get much better than that. But the Playin' here is just pure psychedelia. Phil is having so much fun exploring and you can hear it. This is my favorite Playin' from ’74 and nobody mentions it. So I will. It’s a thousand times better than the Seattle 46-minute version from a few days later that is frequently cited. Which in my mind is a complete waste. The 46-minute Playin' from Seattle is a clear example of longest version does not = best version—the band is meandering and lost through a good portion of those 46 minutes. Believe me, I love long, meandering jams that teeter into being lost, but the 46-minute Seattle Playin' isn’t a thousandth as good as this 5/17 Vancouver Playin', which should be required listening for Phil Phans! The other must-listen from Vancouver ’74 is the Eyes of the World. It's difficult to find bad versions of Eyes in the '73-'74 glory years, and this version is nice and crisp with great energy.

Vancouver

That being said, the 5/21/74 Seattle show, like the second set of the 6/26/73 Seattle show is an underrated gem with the exception of the meandering Playin', which really should be listened to once for fans of the era and the song.  Overall show is a solid B+ and the “Weather Report Suite,” (this tune, like Eyes, was always a gem in the era), might even have something more, even better than other ’74 versions, and might be my new favorite version. Peak song in a peak era, and this Seattle version is very tasty. Other highlights include “Brown-Eyed Women,” and a nice “Stella Blue.” The “Row Jimmy” is nice, too—it’s just such a mellow, laid-back, subtle song. Overall, good show.

In general, I find the ’73 shows on this collection more satisfying than the ’74 shows. 5/19/74 is beautiful and if there weren't 4 songs with missing vocals, I'd deem it perfect. But all three ’73 shows have their merits—6/22/73 is canonical, 6/24/73 is a perfect selection for a mellow sunny day and the second set of 6/26/73 is a scorcher.

In ’74, they spent the beginning of the year (these shows, really) learning to wield the power of the Wall of Sound. And the latter part of year being burnt out by the Wall. The sweet spot happens in the middle of the year with 6/26 and 6/28/74, captured on Dick’s Picks 12, my personal favorite recording from this year.  Best “China Cat Sunflower”> “I Know You Rider,” a deep spacey “Spanish Jam,” and a 28-minute jam out of “Weather Report Suite” that might be some of the finest live improvisational music ever recorded. We get the potential for that sort of playing with 5/19/74, the jam out of “Truckin’” is something else entirely and also otherworldly good. How they were feeling and playing so tight is beyond me.

Phil, throughout this Pacific Northwest collection, is 5 stars. This is a time when Phil is just so excited about the sounds he’s getting through the sound system and the avant garde space jazz the Dead were leaning to at this time fits him perfectly. His sounds blurs between a deep, woody jazz bass and what I call a stretchy “bubble  yum” bass. Listen to it—it’s like he’s stretching a piece of bubble yum bubble gum with his bass—truly one of the more original rock n’ roll bass players and my personal favorite. 

Phil is my gateway to the Grateful Dead and if you're a fan of his playing, this box set is for you. At 16, I was playing baritone sax in the high school jazz band, but I was wishing I were playing the bass. A bass player like a combination of Jimmy Garrison (John Coltrane Quartet), Geddy Lee (Rush), and Les Claypool (Primus). I also didn't realize it but I was a country folky in the making, so when I heard Phil (my jazz roots) and Bobby and Jerry (my budding country interest) play together in the Dead I knew I had found my band.

Keith has a lot of 5 star moments and this collection is a reminder of how good he was and how much he defined the sound of all ‘70s Dead. His move to different sounds with the Rhodes keyboard changed the sound of the band.

Ensemble playing, which is what it’s all really about, really only reaches 5 stars on the 6/22/73 Vancouver show, the 5/19/74 Portland show, and maybe the second set of 6/26/73 Seattle, a scorcher at times.

The entire band is in such a creative peak, starting in late '69 with their work on Workingman's Dead and American Beauty and this peak continues through about m late '74. Garcia and Hunter were peaking so hard that they had a hard time getting all of the music they were writing recorded in a studio. There is an album's worth of classics that only appear in concerts--the band was too busy playing live and being on the road.

Phil, in particular, begins quite a peak in October '71 when Keith joined the band. I just recently listened to The Other One on 10-22-71 and you can tell that Phil is so happy to have a jazzy piano player with tremendous chops. It's just Keith's third show, but the chemistry is there. We reach Phil's peak of peaks in this time slot represented in this box set between these '73 shows and the end of '74.Phil's the one leading the charges on the jams. In '72 and '77, it was Jerry leading the majority of the jams, which may or may not be why '72 and '77 may or may not be the Dead's best years by a nose (I love all of these years, so I can't say). Either way, the band is at its true best when it's the ensemble leading the charges in the jams, and this happens on the A+ shows here, particularly 6/22/73 and 5/19/74.

So, overall, I give the Complete Recordings a 4 stars. A solid B+. Another reason to not give 5 stars is the sound. There is a sound to all Dead recordings from ’73 and ’74 that is a tad bothersome to me. I’ll try to explain…don’t get me wrong, I love this era and the clarity and the separation of each instrument is beyond belief, especially for the ’74 shows, and for jazzers like me, I can’t get enough of the music and the sound from this era, but as others have noted, the vocals have a weak, tinny sound in comparison. It’s just the way the shows were originally recorded. The recordings from this era can also be on the sterile side. While I was going through the box set, I re-visited a show from the Complete Europe ’72 box set and Betty and the Wizard just did a just exactly perfect recording of these ’72 shows—they just feel alive, they’re big and airy, and you feel like you’re on the stage right behind Weir. Truly my favorite box set. These ’73-74 recordings sound a tad sterile in comparison. The re-mastery here on these Pac Northwest discs is great, though. Like I would say…that if you like ’73, go listen to 11-11-73 or 12-19-73, both of which are canonical musically speaking, but the Dick’s Picks 1 on which you can find 12-19-73 released commercially, has poor re-mastery and it’s just kinda weak in sound with a fair amount of hiss and dead air. In my dream of dreams, they’d do a re-mastery of 12-19-73 or officially release the night before 12-18-73 (Dave Lemieux, you listening?), which is almost as good as 12-19-73.

'74 Wall of Sound. Vancouver. 



Wednesday, November 14, 2018

My Definitive Grateful Dead Shows

My Definitive Grateful Dead shows in no particular order, other than when they came to my head.

Criteria = that combination of musicianship, energy, and x factor (that je ne sais quoi of special feeling created by the symbiosis of band, audience, and venue).

I also evaluated on show recording quality. I lean heavily toward Betty Boards or recordings that Betty was involved in (i.e., the '72 Europe shows). I love the big, breathy quality of Betty's recordings. Listening to her recordings with headphones, you truly feel like you're standing on the stage right about where Bob Weir typically played.

5-26-72
11-6-77
7-8-78
6-9-77
11-11-73
12-31-72
6-22-73
11-17-73
4-16-72
4-26-72
5-10-72
5-11-72
5-3-72
5-4-72
9-21-72
5-8-70
11-17-71
5-19-74
8-6-74
6-26-74
12-19-73
8-25-72
9-18-87
7-7-89
2-27-69
9-24-72

Okay, admittedly I lean heavy on '72. Like a fine wine, '72 is that perfect mix of mellow, subtle, complex, full character, maturity but with authentic youthful spirit.


Wednesday, August 01, 2018

Music is everything.



"Verbal communication is open to interpretation, just like the songs are. I’ve prefaced interviews in the past saying that I can’t do anything but lie. All talk is lying, and I’m lying now. And that’s true, too. Go hear me play. That’s me – that’s what I have to say. That’s the form my thoughts have taken."

"The music is the most important thing, and the guitar is only the instrument."

Jerry Garcia, on music

Wednesday, June 20, 2018

25 Principles of Adult Behavior and The Art of Being Alive




The more famous songwriting pair in the Grateful Dead, Jerry Garcia and Robert Hunter, offer a lot of life lessons in the songs they wrote. Their songs are easier for me to play on the mandolin and if we still exist their simple beauty will inspire beings 500 years from now. 

But I've always been a huge fan of the "other" songwriting pair in the Dead, Bob Weir and John Perry Barlow. 

The two pieces I share below, one by Barlow and one by Weir, illustrate some very important fundamentals about being alive in this day and age, and sum up a lot of my own life philosophy. 

Barlow wrote songs with Bob Weir, but he was also a Wyoming rancher and a founder of the Electronic Freedom Foundation and you could call him one of the early Internet pioneers. May he rest in peace. I'm looking forward to reading his memoirs Mother American Night.

It is now my goal to be the Bob Weir of mandolin. His songs are very tricky rhythmically and I don't have any under my belt. Besides being the most unique rhythm guitarist that ever lived, the McCoy Tyner to Jerry's Coltrane,  Bobby Weir's letter to a timber baron below is a another reason for why he is near the top of my pantheon of heroes. Not just because I share with Weir a deep love of forests, but his letter perfectly describes the art of being alive and Life itself. It is a defense of life. It appears in this day and age that our politicians and the robber barons of our gilded age are completely incapable of experiencing beauty and love--they appear to be robbed of a soul or life itself. They may have all of the money in the world, but they don't appear capable of even knowing what beauty, art or love are, and for that I truly feel sorry for them. 

John Perry Barlow's 25 Principles of Adult Behavior:

1. Be patient. No matter what.
2. Don’t badmouth: Assign responsibility, not blame. Say nothing of another you wouldn’t say to him.
3. Never assume the motives of others are, to them, less noble than yours are to you.
4. Expand your sense of the possible.
5. Don’t trouble yourself with matters you truly cannot change.
6. Expect no more of anyone than you can deliver yourself.
7. Tolerate ambiguity.
8. Laugh at yourself frequently.
9. Concern yourself with what is right rather than who is right.
10. Never forget that, no matter how certain, you might be wrong.
11. Give up blood sports.
12. Remember that your life belongs to others as well. Don’t risk it frivolously.
13. Never lie to anyone for any reason. (Lies of omission are sometimes exempt.)
14. Learn the needs of those around you and respect them.
15. Avoid the pursuit of happiness. Seek to define your mission and pursue that.
16. Reduce your use of the first personal pronoun.
17. Praise at least as often as you disparage.
18. Admit your errors freely and soon.
19. Become less suspicious of joy.
20. Understand humility.
21. Remember that love forgives everything.
22. Foster dignity.
23. Live memorably.
24. Love yourself.
25. Endure.



Below is Bob Weir's 1996 letter to Charles Hurwitz, CEO of Maxxam Corp., then part owner of the Headwaters Forest, at the time the largest stand of unprotected ancient redwoods on Earth. Eventually, 7,472 acres of it became the Headwaters Forest Preserve

"Dear Mr. Hurwitz:

Maybe 30 years ago, I was on one of my first band tours. We were in the Pacific Northwest, between somewhere in Washington and some other where in Oregon. The road took us to the lip on a ridge, from where we could see around us for many miles in all directions. To the west, we could see a weather front moving high clouds in from the Pacific. To the north and south, where the front came parallel with us, we could see a mist rising up from the forested foothills all around us, and when this mist joined with and seeded the clouds passing overhead it turned to rain and snow, which then fell on the mountains to our east. Scientists call this regular phenomenon evapo-transpiration. I wish you could have seen it.

It was breathtaking to behold, but as we watched, we had a firm realization that we were witnessing something even more beautiful than our eyes could ever take in. We saw how the rain falls to Earth, where it mixes with sun, soil and air; and there rises the grandest of all life forms - the forest, awesome in its size and complexity. the forest, in turn, holds the moisture until the next storm front comes through, when again the mist will rise, the clouds will seed, and rain will fall. Life causes life. Heaven and Earth dance in this way endlessly, and their child is the forest.

And so there we were, epiphanously watching that grandest and most glorious dance of life - of which we are just a tiny part - awed by a magnificence without beginning, without end...

Until a couple of years later, when we were making the same trip, and we came to the same place, but the forest was gone; now the land lay bare. The same weather patterns move through, but now no mist rises up to seed the clouds, and the rain no longer falls so much on the mountains to the east. I was still pretty young, but it seemed altogether wrong to me that we should destroy something so big, so far beyond our understanding. What unimaginable arrogance!

I also realized then and there that weather is a life form as well. So is the Earth. Our culture tends to overlook this because they are far too big to understand or control, but our Native American forbears knew quite well when they turned their gaze to the sky that they were looking at the face of God. They knew that below their feet lay the mother-goddess Earth. They knew that heaven and Earth are our grandparents, and that we are children of the forest; it was there our species originated.

Now you own, and intend to destroy, the last and best of these ancient forests. Like Shakespeare's Shylock, you have a legal right to extract your pound of our mother's flesh, in board feet. But the legality doesn't make it right; not nearly. This policy toward our environment is disastrous. And so, we the people of the society you live among, must call on you to stop this practice. Can you hear us?

Do the right thing. Sell to the American people the 60,000 acres that make up a sustainable, viable forest at a reasonable price, or just give it to us. You can afford it, even benefit by it. The goodwill you'll generate from such an act will come back to you many times over.

Perhaps you should go and sit for a while in one of your clear-cuts, and think this over as you listen to the desolate sound of the wind as it blusters unhindered past your ears, bereft of the trees that once tamed it. Then go and spend some time in the magnificence of the ancient forest you plan to destroy and perhaps you will hear that voice much older, wiser, deeper and gentler than ours - it's there.

I hope to hear back from you soon on this.

Respectfully, Bob Weir"

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Deconstructed Roads

Wells Creek Road leads to one of the most spectacular hikes I know. The Cougar Divide. If you could handle the vertigo-inducing drive up one of the most damaged roads in a state full of damaged roads and you can find your way on the trail that remains under snow for about 11 months a year, your path could lead to a scree slope that puts you up on Mt. Baker. You feel like you can touch the top of the volcano. On an attempt we made in October a few years ago (we couldn't quite make it to the scree slope that time), we drove back in the most spectacular evening autumn light, which I remember as possibly the most beautiful light I'd ever seen that made its way over hundreds of acres of virgin forest, glaciers. Experiencing that October light on Wells Creek Road (regretfully I don't have pictures from the drive down--I was driving! And now I wish I had stopped to snap one) was one of the most iconic Pacific Northwest experiences I've ever had.

It saddened me to learn that Wells Creek Road is now unpassable. Deconstructed. Though looking at the Forest Service website, it is scheduled to be worked on in 2018, judging by our recent visit I doubt that they will be able to fix it without spending millions of dollars. And I'm not sure if they're going to find the reconstruction work worth it, as it's only a handful of crazy hikers and hunters that make it out that far. But to me Wells Creek Road is priceless.

The road is just so wild...

One of my favorite hikes just on the road was on one of those ultra-cold, ultra-clear days in the middle of the winter here. The mountain, the air, the glacial river were just so crystal clear. When we got back to the car, the thermometer read something like 8 degrees, which is pretty cold for this part of the world. Yet we were warmed by that beautiful hike on the road.

I have fond memories of my dogs chasing a black bear in the spring when you're more apt to run into them. And another memory of walking along and suddenly finding ourselves surrounded by fresh bear scat. Both the dogs had that nervous look of just knowing...we made a beeline back to the car, not needing to repeat a potential bear chase.

Our latest visit on bikes did not disappoint either. We took Marcos, who in his senior days, spent part of the day in his Beariot Comfort Wagon for bikes. And my mind was blown by this wildcat beekeeping operation. And the deconstructed road with washouts and gaping cracks split by creeks that weren't there before.

I've read somewhere that there are enough miles of logging roads in the United States to go the moon and back several times. There are so many of them that are just remnants. Deconstructed. Like a text analyzed by Derrida. Wells Creek Road is one of those deconstructed roads leading to places that hopefully might not ever be touched by humans again.

I might not ever muster the strength to ride my bike all the way up Wells Creek Road to the Cougar Divide trailhead to walk that extraordinary hike ever again, but at least I can dream about it.

Council of the Tree on the Cougar Divide trail. Cougar Divide. The road to the top is not good and the trail itself is unmaintained, but persistence yields magical landscapes and a visual feast, from Baker's glaciated slopes to Table Mountain, the High Divide, and the Canadian peaks. When bathed in late-fall sunlight, the spot is incomparably beautiful.Look at the details in the rocks in the background, David's double-hatting, the spooky green of the grass, Lu's penchant for adventure, Petra's deep thought, the incredibly long tree, and the adventure vest in full effect.

Making our way around a pretty sizable washout on Wells Creek Road. I'm carrying the Beariot here, so we can continue riding our bikes down the path. 

Wildcat beekeeping operation. Most likely taking advantage of the fireweed all over the place. 


Thursday, June 08, 2017

Birdsong



"Laugh in the sunshine
Sing
Cry in the dark
Fly
Through the night"

--Hunter/Garcia

Tuesday, May 02, 2017

5-25-72 and Lu

I've got a new appreciation for 5-25-72.

No, it's not the best show on the Grateful Dead's Europe '72 tour. Not top 5, maybe not even top 10 for some fans of the 22 shows of the glorious tour. It's during the last 4 nights at the Lyceum, which would definitely be tops on my list for time travel--should some day I could go to the 4 nights in London from 5-22 to 5-26-72, I would go with bells on to see the Dead at their peak in such a great venue. But everybody (rightfully) dwells on 5-26-72, which is just about as good as it gets and we forget about 5-24 and 5-25, which I sort of re-discovered.

The show starts with a relatively new song to the repertoire, a cover of Chuck Berry's "Promised Land," which has some false starts and a missed ending, but shows some promise. The bones are there for a song that will stay in the routine for decades, and the poor ending is just chalked up to the Dead always learning a tune in front of an audience.

The second set jam suite has some poor transitions: "Uncle John's Band">"Wharf Rat" is indecisive. The move between "Wharf Rat"  and "Dark Star" is forced. The "Dark Star">"Sugar Magnolia" takes 2 attempts from Bobby to spur the rest of the band into the pure rock n' roll of "Sugar Mag."

But the "Uncle John's Band" is the best of the tour. The "Wharf Rat" the most emotional. The "Dark Star" could be the most exploratory with many passages driven hard and really far out. A "Feelin' Groovy" passage in the middle that lasts a while with Bobby then pasting rubber ducky decals to the tiles with his spaced-out guitar. Let's just say it...it's extremely psychedelic.

But it was the buddy songs that got me.

I re-visited this show after receiving the news that my rescue dog Lu has several metastatic tumors. Cancer. Prognosis = "poor." And "survival is likely to be less than a few months." Shitty news. I was devastated.

But the next day, after the diagnosis, it was extremely sunny after a long spell of cloudy days here in one of the darkest places on the planet. I took Lu and her best friend Mar out for an adventure and 5-25-72 just serendipitously happened to be the soundtrack. It just was what I had in the CD player on my RAV.

It truly was the buddy songs that got me during this listen, together with Lu and Mar, Kirsten out running a race in Seattle, the dogs and I just needed some buddy time. The "Jack Straw" focused. The opening lines have always rang true for me as the definition of friendship: "We can share..." It truly is the essence of Friend. Kris Kristoferson's "Me and Bobby McGee," a song about a traveling pair, hitching the backroads of the USA, made me think of Me and Lu. So good it hurt. On the "I Know You Rider," when they sang "I know you rider gonna miss me when I'm gone," it really put a gulp in my throat.

A "Big Boss Man" delivered by Pigpen that just cuts to the soul also resonated with me. When Pig sings, "You ain't that big...you just tall that's just about all," it made me think of Lu, who is so tiny, but is so, so huge, just so huge in spirit.

Kirsten and I've always seen Lu and Pigpen as kindred souls. Rough and tough exterior, aloof and indifferent to phoniness; but extremely sweet on the inside. That's Lu and Pig. Lu would be so keen on Pig if they were together in the same room. Lu projects that same toughness and aloofness, but when you know her, when you really take the time to know her, it's the sweetness that sticks. And that's Pig, too.

Pigpen. Tough exterior, sweet inside.

Lu. Tough exterior, sweet inside.















And listening to 5-25-72, probably Pig's last great show before he died, like Lu's swan song, makes me want to re-visit other Pig gems. God, when Pig was on, he was just so on. He did not live life in half-measures. It was balls to the wall or nothing. And that was his music. And that's Lu, too.

12-6-71 came in the mail, also serendipitously, just the other day. Also, a wonderful Pigpen show. A "Smokestack Lightning" that is deep, raw, real. Perfect for Lu. Tough on the exterior. Soft and sweet inside. The music. The vibe. The heart and soul.

What I love about Pigpen and also Lu is that they were/are the heart and soul of what they did. Neither were perfect, but they're the only ones who do what they do. True originals.  As Bill Graham said of the Dead, which perfectly fits Pigpen, their heart and soul: "They're not the best at what they do; they're the only ones that do what they do." Pig gave his all to the Grateful Dead. Lu gave everything she had for the Adventure Buddies. Neither Lu nor Pig were/are innately talented. But both were/are great because they put everything in--their heart, their soul, and everything that they were.