Travel Stories
NC adventures part 2: Introducing Aaron to the South.
After a long weekend of airport waiting, flying, and shooting/editing photos until the wee hours of the morning, and attempting to catch up with lots and lots and lots of people I hadn’t seen in nine months, all I wanted to do was nothing. And what better place to do nothing than New Bern, NC?
So I hopped into a car and headed two hours east to my hometown.
[This is my all-too-familiar drive between my two home cities, full of tobacco fields, car dealerships, strip malls, and jesus billboards.]
I spent the majority of the next few days doing things I don’t otherwise get to do:
- Eat disgusting/awesome Southern fast food.
- Hang out with my cat (I’m a long-distance cat owner, btw).
- Hang out with my mom and watch Oprah and HGTV.
One of the particularly exciting things about this vacation is the fact that I’m having a visitor while I’m here – my boyfriend Aaron. I’ve never had a visitor on vacation before. I don’t think there are many circumstances where it is possible. But my visitor was to arrive on Thursday morning and I was to spend the rest of my trip acquainting him with the dirty south.
I spend day one showing Aaron all of my favorite hangouts in Raleigh, including Raleigh Times, Morning Times, Helios, Foundation, Busy Bee, Sosta, etc. I quickly realize my enjoyment of Raleigh revolves completely around food and drink.
After a day in Raleigh, I feel that it’s best to head toward the coast for a proper southern experience. We head out onto Highway 70 with all intentions of arriving in New Bern by early afternoon, but end up on a spontaneous adventure to Nahunta Pork Center instead.
Some context: I have seen billboards for Nahunta Pork Center almost my entire life. Billboard after billboard after billboard on Highway 70, all urging me to go to this mythical place. Everyone who drives this highway knows about Nahunta Pork Center, but I’ve never met anyone who has actually been. So… now might as well be that time. We make the turn. We drive 30 minutes off the highway into rural desolation to find ourselves in the middle of what is basically a giant grocery store, full of every pork product you can imagine. We purchase some ribs and country ham (another first for Aaron), awkwardly take photos while the locals stare, and continue on our way to New Bern.
I should mention that we’re arriving in New Bern on its tricentennial weekend. Yes, New Bern is turning 300. The people are excited, and there are lots of festivities planned. Festivities defined not really by San Francisco standards, but by 300-year-old coastal town standards.
[parade photos courtesy of my mom.]
Parades, symphony concerts, fireworks and the like.
Other than that, we spent most of our time on the water or at the beach or playing with Raphael or eating BBQ. All in all, it was a very very good trip to the south.
Here are a few photos.
See you next year, east coast!
END!
NC adventures part 1: Exploding neighborhoods, broken planes, sleeping in food courts, and Hopscotch.
Earlier this year (probably March or so), I was stalking Raleigh news (as usual) and noticed that some friends were putting on a music festival. Not like our standard NC music festivals, which involve shitty U2 cover bands as headliners. This was a legitimate music festival, with good, independent, relevant bands. It was to be legitimately awesome. So, naturally, I impulse-bought a $120 VIP ticket.
I guess I’d be going to NC in September.
Months later, everything came together and I was packing my bags to spend an entire ten (!) days in North Carolina. It turns out that The Independent (the publication who was putting this whole thing on) needed some press photographers, and I jumped at the chance. I sold my old VIP ticket (to the much deserving Kelly Reid) and secured my press pass. I was ready to go.
But then things got complicated.
Complication #1: San Bruno explodes.
Thursday night. I’m finishing up with preparations before Aaron takes me to the airport. I’m in the kitchen when I hear… “Uhhh, Helena? I think we may have a problem.”
I come into my room to see Aaron watching the news. Apparently San Bruno’s on fire.
[photocredit: Scott Fong]
I feel like most of you have caught wind (no pun intended) of the news as it since went national, but apparently a giant PG&E pipe exploded underneath San Bruno, setting the neighborhood on fire. Total unworldly catastrophe. I should mention that San Bruno is right next to the airport that I’m supposed to be flying out of in four hours.
We continue to watch the news to see what we should do, and see that the Highway 280 (what we would use to get to the airport) is completely shut down. That puts a bit of a damper on our plans. Hm.
After a couple of hours, we decide to take the scenic route down the 101 to the airport, and surprisingly, we arrived quickly with not an obstacle in our way. We gazed at the burning mountain passing by us as we approached the airport.
Aaron drops me off and we say our goodbyes. I was in.
Obstacle 2: The plane doesn’t work.
I quickly get through security and arrive at my gate with plenty of time before my flight. I’m taking the redeye – I’m to leave SFO at approximately 12:30, and will arrive in Raleigh before noon, just in time to catch all of the Hopscotch day parties, and see lots of old friends I haven’t seen in ages, including the Hometapes crew, who I toured with last summer and haven’t seen since, and who happen to be hosting a 7-hour day party with my favorite bands, people, PopTarts and nachos. Needless to say, I was looking forward to it.
We board the plane, I check my bag at the door (if you haven’t tried it yet, don’t check your bags with Delta! You can just check it at the plane, and save yourself $25), and get settled. I casually glance at the checked bag receipt. Flight 666.
We sit. And we sit. And we sit. We sit for like an hour. Finally, the captain comes on at 1:15 or so and tells us that the left engine is broken, but they’re trying to see if they can “fix it real quick before we take off.” This feels good.
Around 1:30 the captain tells us it’s still broken, but they’re continuing to hack at it. We continue to sit. The engine is clearly shot but we’re just going to sit in it for a while anyway. Maybe it’ll work if we sit in it long enough.
Finally around 2 am, the captain tells us that our flight is in fact cancelled, and we’re all to head back to the front gate to see if we can be rescheduled for another flight tomorrow. I now miss a full day of shooting, as well as seeing all of my friends at the coolest day-party-friend-reunion I could possibly imagine. Fantastic.
Let me tell you, I have a history of exceptionally bad experiences with Delta. Well, maybe they’re not exceptional, because it seems like everyone hates Delta. If you used to be on my old travel-adventure email list, you may remember one of my previous Delta nightmare stories, which actually resulted in me getting a $400 voucher which I used on a vacation to San Francisco which caused me to fall in love with the city and eventually move here.
Anyway.
Delta semi-reschedules me for a 6 am flight. I ask the teller if I’m guaranteed a spot on this flight, because I HAVE to get to Raleigh for a job tomorrow. He says yes and gives me a $12 food voucher for my troubles. THANK YOU DELTA. I walk away, checking my ticket. I’m on the flight’s waiting list. This is all going wonderfully.
So now it’s 2:30, and I’m stuck inside my own airport. What do I do now? I give Aaron a call, despite the fact that there’s nothing he can do about it. Apparently he thought I was the alarm clock, because he “snoozed” me twice. I call my mom, because at this point I’m delirious and apparently don’t mind being a late-night calling asshole, but she didn’t answer either.
Man, it’s a pretty awful feeling being stuck in an airport overnight. You sort of feel homeless. Since security was closed until the morning, I couldn’t even go into the gates to sleep. I trudged into a tiny food court at the front of the airport and settled into a booth to sleep.
[this is the view from my regal food court bed.]
My mom calls me a half-hour into my nap to tell me that she was already expecting this to happen, as her horoscope told me that my flight would have complications and that it was all happening for a good reason. Susan Miller‘s on point ya’ll, just sayin’.
Fast forward to 6 am. My name is finally called as the last one on the waiting list as I gobble my shitty twelve-dollar breakfast panini, compliments of Delta. I hop on my flight, finally en route to North Cack.
I arrive around 5 pm. My mom and Barry Barrington (that is her boyfriend and yes that is his name) pick me up and take me home to rest for about 15 minutes. I try to make myself look slightly less homeless, then head straight downtown to begin shooting. I’m feeling a bit strange, having only physically laid down and half-slept for one hour in two days.
Hopscotch night one was rad. I saw approximately one million people I haven’t seen in nine months. I saw lots of incredible bands. I got to spend time with my best friends. Hopscotch night two was about the same, and I was fortunately a bit more rested. I won’t get into much more detail, mostly because I was in zombie mode and don’t remember much of it, but here are some photos from the weekend.
Atlas Sound (my favorite performance of the night)
Spontaneous appearance by Helping Hands Marching Band during Public Enemy
NC adventures part 2 to come. END!
SoCal Road Trip.
Living in San Francisco. I can explore and explore and explore and never run out of places to see or grub to eat or coffee to drink or people to meet or things to do. Still though, from time to time I really miss the road. Driving 8 hours through bumfuck nowhere, blasting mix-CDs with the windows down, with no clue what is really in store in the next city or state you encounter. Those were nice times.
Great short-term solution = weekend road trip!
My adventure cohorts, Dakota and Tara, and I had a loosely assembled agenda: go see David Bazan in some random city that starts with a V, then continue driving southward to Hermosa Beach to stay with Dakota’s friend Brian.
That’s about it. So we packed ourselves into a rental car and headed southward.
First stop: Santa Cruz Boardwalk. Dakota and Tara wanted to ride rollercoasters and eat ice cream.
I happened to be battling one of the more intense hangovers of my lifetime, so I wasn’t particularly interested in either. I bought a hot dog (it’s what my hangover wanted at the time), took a seat at the sidelines and silently observed the chaos.
We wandered around for a bit, snapped some shots on the beach, & prepared to head on our way.
We arrived in the small city that starts with a V by nightfall. The venue was a lovely place. A lovely empty place. We were wondering if we were going to be the only ones here.
Sure enough, it filled out, but we easily weasled our way to the very front to watch David Bazan, one of my favorite songwriters of all time, serenade us from three feet away. One of the better moments of my life.
Being in the front row with a fixed 85 mm lens, I could basically take photos that framed his forehead only. I could have backed a few feet up into the crowd to get some better shots. It was definitely one of those moments where you decide whether you would rather have the better experience or a better documentation of your experience. For once, I chose the former.
So then we drove to Hermosa Beach. It was another 4 hours or so to drive. It was also midnight. But we wanted to do it anyway. So off we went.
We arrived in Hermosa at approx. 4 am. We tried to contact our host, as he told us to call him when we arrived. No response. Dakota proposes we sleep in the car.
Nope. Didn’t come all the way to SoCal to sleep in a damn car. So we decide to go find the apartment he described for us. We find said apartment. We knock. No answer. So… we try the door. It is open. We sneak inside.
We are not entirely certain that this is the right apartment. We could possibly be breaking into a strangers home. We check a utility bill on the counter. Not in her friend’s name. Fantastic.
The bedroom doors are open. Dakota peers in bedroom one to see if her friend happens to be sleeping in it. Definitely not her friend. Even better. I convince the girls to hold on and at least let me charge my phone before we have to run away.
Fortunately, in the second bedroom we found our friend Brian. I had already set up my bedpallate on the floor. I didn’t care whose apartment we had invaded, I was going to sleep in it.
And so we did.
We all woke up late. Brian conveniently lives a block from the ocean, so we took a quick walk down the beach, ate some brunch, then headed back to prepare for our trek home.
Only a quick 9-hour trek home. This may be a chore to some, but I absolutely love the road, so I was elated. Not to mention… we’re driving up the coast of California. There could be worse ways to spend your day.
Hooray roadtrips!
New York, chilly times.
I took a quick hiatus from my North Carolina hiatus to visit New York. I had originally planned on being in NC for an entire month over the winter, but ended up planning this mini-trek within that month. It was literally a vacation within my vacation. It’s an odd concept. Maybe you’ll try it sometime… probably not.
I was actually going for more productive purposes… primarily for the APAP (the Association of Performing Arts Presenters) Conference in Manhattan, to represent Porto Franco Records. It was an exhausting, work-filled week, but I managed to come away with quite a few great experiences and new friends under my belt.
NYC Highlights:
- Immediately remembering how it feels to have your facial extremities being eaten off by ever-present winter New York temperatures
- Falling completely in love with New York all over again despite these ever-present winter New York temperatures
- Meeting folks with similar outlooks on the new music industry (so refreshing and validating)
- Forcing myself to speak in front of groups of industry professionals 10-30 years my senior
- Feeling validated when I was introducing concepts to them that made sense
- Murray’s Bagels and their selection of 16 types of smoked fish
- Conversationally life-altering lunch with Mark Schoneveld
- Walking along the Highline and realizing I desperately miss innovative public use of modern architecture and I must live in NYC at some point in the future
- Seeing and catching up with Mariana Garcia, Matt Bauer, Mikey Lythcott, Brooks Wood, Mark Woloszyn, Greg Galant, Sam Rhodes, Masa Tanaka, + more.
- Mikey’s roof (as always)
And some photos. I didn’t shoot much, as it was freezing and it wouldn’t take long before my camera froze. But here are the few I actually took from the week.
See you soon, NY. xoxo
Raleigh Phase 2. (handcuffed.)
Raleigh phase 2 was all that I love about Raleigh. My friends make adventure.
This particular adventure was centered around the birthday of my dear friend Tim Lytvinenko. If you kept up with my blogs this summer, you know that Tim toured the country with me with Bowerbirds + Megafaun, and he takes care of Raleigh for me while I’m in California. He’s a kickass web developer and is doing some incredible work with Luceo Images (who happen to be showing in NYC right now – go find them if you’re in the area). You should check them out.
Anyway. For Tim’s birthday:
- A big group of compadres gathered at Tim’s for an epic curry feast, courtesy of his family.
- We kicked around a large ball containing ice cream ingredients until ice cream was formed. Flavors: avocado and Guinness. Yum.
- One full, we all sat down and began a white elephant gift exchange of sorts – the only real difference being that, instead of people picking gifts, ladies were picking men.
- Once men were drawn/selected, the pairs were matched up and handcuffed together. Yes, you read that right.
- All of us, once handcuffed (there must have been at least a dozen pairs), headed to the bus stop to be shipped to the one and only Glenwood South to do what we never do… go dancing on Glenwood South. Destination #1 = The Pourch. (punny, yes.)
- We quickly dominated the club, dancing in attached pairs, sometimes getting creative and find ways to interlock multiple cuffed groups of people into one giant dancing human mass.
- It wasn’t long until we all got kicked out. No big reason… just for being handcuffed.
- We then found the R-Line, which toted us to our favorite downtown neighborhood, where we only had time to run to Landmark and Busy Bee, where we danced, still handcuffed, til the bars closed. People began finding ways to disconnect, but Chad and I were determined to be the clustercuffs winners and stay hooked together until approximately 3 AM. We deemed ourselves winners until Logan and Stefanie arrived and were in fact handcuffed the longest. Assholes.
- Then we all danced around Tim’s living room until 6 in the morning.
Normal birthdays FTW!
Ok, here are some photos. I didn’t bring my camera downtown, as it’s not really possible to take photos while handcuffed… you’ll just have to imagine the chaos for yourself.
Raleigh adventures, I love you. Please don’t ever change.
New Bern orphan photos.
I spent most of my month-long east-coast hiatus hiding in New Bern, the city in which I grew up and where my mother still resides. After a year of incredible chaos, I was really looking forward to nothing more than sitting down on a couch in bumfuck eastern NC, doing my work in solitude and hanging out with no one except my mother and my cat (I’m a long-distance cat owner until I can justify flying Raphael to SF), drinking Bailey’s and watching Oprah.
Of course, after a day or two I began to get stir crazy and began to contact humanity again, as well as take some photos of all you can really photograph in New Bern during the winter – myself, my cat, bear statues, and whoever happened to wander into my mother’s house. Enjoy.
END!
Raleigh phase 1.
As you may have inferred from my New Year’s post and wedding post, I’m in NC. As per usual, I’ve taken my travel time to extremes and am hopping around the east coast for a MONTH.
It’s cold here. I have realized how ridiculously spoiled I have become living in SF. I can function completely without a car, I don’t wear pants half of the time because it’s between 50-80 degrees all year, and coffee is as thick as espresso. Oh, and the surplus of cornerstores with awesome juice selections. And the lack of jesus billboards and general perceptions of “weird.”
I can work via le internets, so I can still maintain my projects from wherever, which is really nice. It will be nice to get back to the new SF homeland though, as while most of my projects are online, they’re very locally-intensive, and you can’t do much local bay-area work from the east coast. Well, you can, but it just doesn’t feel right. I’m ready to see real faces instead of email addresses and twitter names.
There are plenty of real Raleigh faces to bide my time, though.
I’ve just been doing what I usually do in Raleigh. Work on projects in Helio’s or Morning Times all day, then when I become restless, begin wandering around downtown, seeing and catching up with familiar faces on every corner, grabbing Lebanese food at Sitti, BBQ + Aventinus at Raleigh Times, local bands + Big Boss at Tir Na Nog, ginger ale at Foundation, greyhounds at Landmark, the sting at Busy Bee… inevitably getting into adventures that last me through the rest of the night. Wake up on friend’s couch, get up and do it all over again.
Note: I bought my entire family Luchador wrestling masks for Christmas. They happened to make their way around Raleigh before I wrapped them.
END!
New Year’s 2009.
When I sit down and think about all that has happened in the past year, I have a hard time believing it. I mean, I just think back a year to where I was last New Year’s Eve -
- I was working yet another Eve in the service industry, this year as a cocktail waitress at Blue Martini in Raleigh. The bar is shoulder to shoulder, but all of the customers are ordering from the bar (therefore not from me). I remember the pinnacle moment of my night, where I’m stuck in the middle of the bar crowd, carrying a tray of several dozen mini champagne flutes over my head, trying to get to my tables. As I attempt to push through the crowd, the people around me begin stealing the flutes off of my tray, getting so out of control that the entire tray falls over and I find myself covered in champagne, flutes strewn all over the floor. This all happens as the clock strikes midnight. I silently observe the entire crowd begin screaming and making out around me as I stand, defeated, soaked in champagne. I remember thinking… “next year things will be different.”
Other general conditions of the time -
- I lived in North Carolina.
- I was in school.
- I was waitressing at Blue Martini and bartending at Sitti in downtown Raleigh.
- I hadn’t really begun pursuing photography, and didn’t even own a real camera. I just knew I liked taking pictures.
- This blog didn’t exist.
- I had no intention of moving to San Francisco or pursuing grad school.
So yeah, a few things have happened.
January: I bought an SLR and began taking photography more seriously.
February: Friend Kate called and asked me if I’d join her on a random trip to San Francisco, knowing I say yes to every travel opportunity offered to me. I said yes.
March: Visited San Francisco, accidentally fell in love with an MFA program and decided to pursue it. Applied, got in.
May: Graduated from NCSU. Decided to start a blog to have somewhere to place my stories and photos. Bought Queen of the Pavement domain. Also decided to make a project out of my upcoming trek across the country and plan a national phototour.
June: Gave up my apartment + began floating around houses in an effort to save money for traveling. Have my first (and last) photography showing in Raleigh at the Busy Bee in promotion of the phototour.
July: Set up phototour website. Leave Raleigh, begin phototour. Spend six weeks traveling the country with photographer Tim Lytvinenko, meeting up with Bowerbirds and Megafaun for the later portion of our trek.
August: Arrive in San Francisco. Realize I haven’t lined up a place to live or a job. Decide to drive to Arizona instead of figuring it out. Arrive in Arizona. Land a temporary place to live in SF. Drive back to SF and settle in to my temporary home in the Mission. Begin to settle into life in California.
September: Find permanent place to live near Hayes Valley. Begin graduate school. Meet neighbor Mark Growden and am incredibly impressed. Begin doing some freelance projects for him.
October: Quit PR job to help work on Mark’s CD Release. Mark gets signed to Porto Franco Records.
November: Porto Franco Records offers me a full-time job.
December: I finish up my first (and last) semester of grad school. I decide not to go back to fully pursue my career in the tech and music spheres, accepting the job with Porto Franco. Dream life begins. Spend New Year’s Eve dancing in the backwoods of NC with great friends + a bonfire.
So yeah, the year’s been good. It’s been a fucking whirlwind, frankly. I feel incredibly fortunate to have crammed this much intense life experience and adventure into one year, and there are so many incredible people I have met along the way.
Now as for last night. I started the night off with pizza night at Reagan’s. I did not know Reagan until I arrived in her home, but I feel like I knew her already, as she is girlfriend of David Millsaps, who I have known for a bit. Tim and I had a photocolumn for a short bit in his incredibly successful blog, NewRaleigh, while we were phototouring. Reagan apparently reads my blog from time to time and feels like she has known me for a while as well. I always love finding out when that happens. We became ladybros quickly.
Other new ladyfriend Katie Aiken was responsible for introducing her mother’s signature pizza recipe to us for the first time ever. It was a succcess. Lots of fun things involved – homemade wheaty crust, kalamata olives, mushrooms, goat cheese, pine nuts, etc etc. Awesome.
After we had all consumed our fill, we headed to the backwoods of Wake Forest for Burninator, hosted by our friend Will Reynolds. You may know him as “dancing Will.” Apparently his family has property out in the boondocks, which he decked out for the event, with a giant circle of Christmas lights (“the dancefloor”), three bar areas, lounge areas, and a huge bonfire area. Oh, and a waffle making area, naturally. We spent the night burning Christmas trees (at least a dozen of them), eating waffles, and dancing around the woods til the wee hours of the morning. It was wonderful.
I think the year is starting off just fine.
Ok, that’s all for now.
END!
Deja Vu + Third-Wheel Adventures.
I have spent the last two weekends tagging along with some ridiculously cute and happy couples… makes me want to barf sunshine just thinking about it.
I really couldn’t ask for better people to be honorary third wheel with. First round was with Kelly and Jim. I spent last Sunday with them shooting some engagement photos. I still feel like a total novice when it comes to shooting people… with a purpose or objective… the pressure is intimidating. But they were fun and cooperative and took lots of breaks to eat diner food and dumplings (in two separate meals). My kind of folks.
This weekend I found myself with my mother and her boyfriend, Barry Barrington (who I will always refer to by his full name because it is incredible), visiting from NC. It’s much easier photographing cute couples outside of any assignment whatsoever, as it was free and pretty much comes with the territory of hanging out with me and my camera, and they can’t get mad at me if they suck.
We adventured through the city on Saturday, then rented a car and ventured northward on Sunday. Lots of good food and good views. I was pleased.
Day1:
Somewhat relevant story (that I still need to tell Andrew):
After hanging out on the top of that epic hill above, we all walked down the path that takes us back down and around the other side, towards the Castro. I suddenly found myself quite overwhelmed with deja vu. I then realized I was in fact on a museum property that I had trespassed on just a year previous while vacationing in SF (having no idea I’d be living here a year later). It was the site of one of the photos I used for my grad school portfolio (that contains the Andrew of note). I actually wrote about this experience in my old mass-travel-email-list that I used to maintain before I started this whole blog thing in May.
An excerpt from July 2008:
Once home, I got a message from Dakota to meet her in the Mission. We had a date. Our friend Zack, who we met at the cookout my first weekend in town, had offered to take us out to dinner at an eclectic little spot called Delfina, on 18th and Guerrero. Italian/American/French-inspired cuisine, big emphasis on fresh ingredients and innovative food combinations. Sounds like my cup of tea.
On the way to dinner, I pass Delores Park, and see a phenomenon I could have never fathomed – bike polo. Really. Like… polo. On bicycles. How awkward and amazing!
We all meet up at Delfina at 9:30. We split a bottle of sauvignon, a sheep ricotta w/ zucchini, bitter greens with pancetta and walnuts, strawberry farm short ribs with gouda polenta, rabbit something or another, salmon something or another, and some sort of puff pastries filled with espresso gelato. Jesus Christ it was awesome.
As we were finishing up, we were discussing things I must do before I leave, and Zack brought up the fact that Twin Peaks is one of, if not the, best view of the city. So I say, “well, we should go.” Zack says, “right now?” I say, “Why not?”
So Zack bikes home to grab his car, while me and Dakota head to Amnesia to grab a drink and wait. Oh how I love this bar. Yet again playing eastern-european-inspired-americana-bluegrass as I walk in the door. We order a couple of their cocktails, all made with koju, a Korean vodka that seems pretty popular in the city. Before we know it, Zack has arrived with his chariot. We head out, but have one extra stop before we head to Twin Peaks – we have to go pick up his friend Andrew, who is visiting from Santa Cruz, and who has apparently been drinking alone at Zeitgeist for four hours after his friends left town. Andrew is tall (6’8″ to be exact), drunk, and hilarious. Oh my god. He is one of the funniest people I have met in a long time. And I don’t think it was because he was drunk. He made it to my favorites list quickly.
So we are driving straight up windy roads that should eventually lead us to Twin Peaks. We quickly become enshrouded in fog. We get to the top. We can’t see five feet in front of us. So… you can imagine the view. Just fog. We could vaguely see the few lone cars in the parking lot with couples in the backseats. Not much later, a police car came by with a spotlight and said cars were eliminated pretty quickly. So we hung out on the edge of the highest point in the city, but saw nothing. We decided to drive somewhere of a slightly lower altitude and maybe catch a view underneath the fog.
We arrive at some museum, whose name will remain unsaid (simply because I don’t recall what it was). The property was sitting on the edge of a cliff and seemed to have a pretty good view. Unfortunately, the gate to the property was locked. Good for us, we are traveling with primate-like men who can scale fences and unlock doors from the inside. So began our scenic trespassing tour.
I wish I had some sort of scandalous story for you, but no cops came, the dogs were not sent for us. We just wandered around forbidden museum property and enjoyed a fairly good view. We eventually tired of being bad asses and headed back on our way.
Day2:
(PC: Barry Barrington)
In other news: I leave for tour today. BTW… I’m going on tour? I’m pumped. I’ve been having tour withdrawals for a couple of months now. I’m supporting Mark Growden w/ Alex Kelly, and representing Porto Franco Records. Best job ever? It might be. If you live in CA, OR, or WA, you should come see us. It would be neat. Just sayin’.
More on that as we hit the road. Until then…. END!
Homeward.
After awaking from my 15-hour couch nap, I was onward to Phase 3 of my trip: hitching a ride to my hometown of New Bern, NC.
My brother was off work for the night and offered to tote me. He would arrive at 1:00. This would all be great, if my belongings weren’t strewn all over Raleigh.
Most of my luggage was stored at friend Sam’s house, which wasn’t of much use, as I hadn’t actually stayed there at all during this trip. As many of you know, planning while traveling isn’t really my thing.
It would be easy to swing by and pick up my stuff, but unfortunately, Sam was nowhere to be found. So Logan and I decided to go search the establishment most likely to find her in – The Busy Bee. I decided to call brother Kane and friend Erika over to meet us for brunch in the meantime.
We found Sam, and we found brunch. I got a key, and we were on our way to find my luggage.
Upon arrival, I spend a good five minutes trying to get in the front door of her apartment with the key she had provided me, but to no avail.
I try and try and try. Kane asks me if I am sure I have the right door. I tell him he is being silly.
I was definitely at the wrong apartment. I’m sure the crowd of people cooking out outside were a bit confused to see me try to break into two adjacent apartments, successfully entering the second one. I hastily grabbed my luggage and we were on our way.
After two hours of observing eastern Carolina’s brilliantly designed storefronts and billboards, we finally arrived in the homeland to find my mother and my baby catchild, Raphael, waiting for us.
Raphael was my partner in crime in Raleigh. He was my only roommate, and we were serious compadres. I gave him to Kane to babysit while I toured the country this summer, and he soon ended up with my mom in New Bern. I had all plans to fly him over to California upon my settling in, but as I predicted, my mother has become quite infatuated with him and is not so ready to give him up. For now, it is probably for the best, as I will probably be touring and traveling quite a bit in the near future… but I do miss him so so much. He is my precious white monstrous yeti cat child.
Raph apparently has a new fun habit of climbing onto the outside edge of the second-story patio, just for shits and giggles. I’m not entirely sure how he hasn’t died yet. But there’s not much you can do other than just let him do it.
Anyway. Enough about the cat.
My one night in New Bern was great. The three of us ate soup, sat on the porch, played fetch with Raph, and nerded out on our computers together until the wee hours of the morning.
The next day I spent my last New Bern meal at none other than Carolina Bagel (yet to find bagels that compare, even in San Francisco), then took a final walk around downtown with the family, shooting some glamour shots here and there. I’m getting them to work on their sweet model poses while I’m gone. All of us will be pros by Christmas.
(PC: Annette Stone)
Goodbye, North Carolina. I love you, but west coast is calling.
END!
Wedding times.
The primary reason I came back to Raleigh so soon, other than to catch up with old friends by wandering the streets of my hometown neighborhood (as I accomplished in my last post), was a wedding.
My close friends Bill and Jessica are getting married. I met Bill while packing a giant van full of instruments, which we were to drive around the country in for the month immediately following. I toured with his band, American Aquarium, for a good portion of 2007 and some of 2008. I can’t even begin to cover the ridiculous adventures we’ve been through together (though I did post some old tour logs on the blog here and here). I met Jessica briefly during that tour, and we became good friends soon after. They have been dating since high school, and it was no surprise to me that they decided to tie the knot. Not one of those… we’ve-been-together-long-enough-so-we-might-as-well kind of things. They really dig each other. It’s pretty neat.
Anyway. I was a bridesmaid for this thing. The only bridesmaid that happens to live not only outside of the greater Raleigh area, but on the opposite side of the country. I was totally out of the loop as far as everything that I needed to do and how this all was going down. But I winged it.
Winging it = Me being the only bridesmaid with black shoes (the rest were wearing red with their red dresses… how logical), black nail polish, and hair down. West coast bridesmaid represent!
The wedding was great. I saw so many old friends, and met some new ones. I ate lots of glorious buffet food and danced around the top of the Clarion, Raleigh’s signature cylindrical hotel with a bar at the top.
I didn’t take many photos, as I was a bridesmaid, not the photographer. But I managed to snag a few.
I definitely planned on going out with the wedding crowd post-reception, but I ended up passing out instantly upon Logan’s couch and waking up 15 hours later.
END!
A visit to Raleigh: Out downtown edition.
Greetings from North Carolina. I write to you as I wait patiently for 4:30 AM, the time I should awake and begin preparing to head to the airport. I have just finished up a week in my glorious home state.
I arrived at approximately 9:49 AM Thursday morning. I had expected ample sleeping time on my red-eye flight, but the fact that I was situated in the middle seat prevented that. And with the token obese-man-with-gas-problem to my left, I was at the optimum level of contentment, I assure you.
Raleigh couldn’t come soon enough. My compadre Sam was kind enough to tote me downtown, and I had things to do.
Day 1: Day of Raleigh clichés.
Objective: Basically do everything I would normally do in my typical Raleigh day prior to moving.
Tasks:
- Do work at Morning Times. Probably buy an iced soy chai latte with a shot of espresso. Maybe a apple brie sandwich as well.
- Go to Sitti (bar where I worked when I lived in Raleigh). Receive back massage from Ken the bartender. Order to-go food (likely a goat cheese and orange salad, chicken kabob, hummus, maybe okra stew, bread and bread and bread) minutes before dinner hours to have access to lunch prices.
- Take to-go food to Blue Martini (other bar where I worked when I lived in Raleigh). Set up elaborate Lebanese food buffet across the bar to be enjoyed exclusively by me and Tara, my homedog/general manager. A Wednesday tradition.
- Have a Dagmar (the martini named after me) at Blue Martini while food settles.
- Go to Raleigh Times for dinner. Likely a BBQ sandwich. Greyhound may also be involved.
- Go to Foundation to check out seasonal drink menu. Pick one. Enjoy.
- Go to Busy Bee. Mandatory order of The Sting and tater tots.
- Go to Landmark for bloody mary or Kriekbeer.
And that I did.
I’m surprised I didn’t take more photos. It may have had something to do with the 80 people I ran into on every corner. I kid you not – I probably caught up with more than 150 people in the first day, just strolling around the neighborhood. Good to be back, Raleigh.
END!
San Fran Beginnings, Tour Endings.
After a particularly long drive, thanks to my accidental detour through some random southern California cities, we arrive in San Francisco. At 5:30 AM…. most awkward arrival time yet, especially when I have to wake my new roommate up in my new San Francisco house, neither of which I have seen or met, to move my stuff in. She was awesome though, especially considering the strange timing.
I now live in San Francisco. Holy mother of god.
Adjusting to your completely new hometown isn’t so bad when you are surrounded by former-hometown-folk to keep you occupied. Tim is here for another week or so, and my friend Brandom happened to fly in on the same night we arrived.
So began adventures with Brandom.
We started things off at Boogaloos, who I have already deemed my favorite brunch in San Francisco. Not that I have come remotely close to trying 10% of the brunch spots in San Francisco, but I AM obsessed with Mexican food and eggs in combination right now and they do a damn good job at providing me with it. We split a temple-o-spuds and a polenta + eggs plate. The day is a win already.
I decide that it will be best to drive Brandom to all of my favorite places in San Francisco, as I am not adjusted to the walkability of the city yet (aka I am lazy) and I figure that if I keep the car moving, I will reduce the number of parking tickets I’ll inevitably acquire. So… first stop: Twin Peaks.
Twin Peaks is the biggest hill in SF. You can see everything. You just have to make sure it’s a clear day, because 80% of the time it’s foggy and you can’t see two feet in front of you. Today we can see!
I wanted to take a jumping photo but it was so windy we thought we may die just standing up. So we took some normal photos and went on our way.
Next stop: Crissy Fields. Fun park and beach with a nice view of the Golden Gate. I’ve taken many a photo here before, so it’s fun to see how they end up changing every time I come back.
I wanted to drive Brandom around the west side of the Peninsula, where the road lines the hills and you see nothing but water below you, but we got lost and ended up at the Harold & Maude graveyard. This happens to be one of if not Brandom’s very favorite movie, so he freaked out and demanded we go in and take photos. And so we did.
By this time, the day had passed and we were tired. And so ended adventure day with Brandom.
Fast forward.
With Brandom and Tim both leaving the next day, I decided it was necessary to take everyone to Land’s End.
Land’s End is this somewhat secret location that a lot of SF folk seem to know of, but have no idea how to find. And somehow I managed to find it last year, by following really vague directions given to me by my SF veteran compadre Nick.
Basically, you take several disjointed bus rides to the Legion of Honor parking lot, wander through a golf course directly behind the property, hope you take the right path until you see another path going into the woods blocked off by a gate, walk around the gate, continue until you see a staircase, walk down the staircase until you reach a dirt path, walk up the dirt path until you can’t walk anymore, because you are standing on the edge of a cliff where the ocean meets the bay.
So me, Tim, Dakota, Brandom and Lewis found the cliffs once again. It was pretty foggy and overcast, which at first we thought would be a huge visibility problem, but it ended up being quite cool actually. The fog rested on top of the hills and actually rested on top of the Golden Gate, leaving a clear hole underneath it that you could see through. Brandom described it as a hole out of purgatory. If purgatory were an awesome oceanfront array of cliffs and giant rocks and waves.
I said my byes to Brandom, then went out for one last night of welldonetour-dom with Tim and company. My fellow road warrior is off to Raleigh tomorrow. Our 2009 phototour adventure has come to an end.
I would have some sort of profound synopsis for you here, but I really haven’t had any time to process all of the ridiculous incredible things that have happened to my life in the past six weeks. Maybe I’ll have have my brain reassembled by then.
All I can say now, is that tour made me grow in so many ways, as a PR professional, as a photographer, as a planner and a thinker and a friend and a person. I don’t think I’ll have a grasp on the amount I’ve learned through this for quite a while, but know for sure that I am definitely a different, better person leaving this tour. I got to spend my summer with some of the most wonderful people I’ve met in years. I love Bowerbirds and Megafaun and Tim and Sarah oh so dearly and can’t wait to see them again, and I’m going to stop typing now before I get emotional in the middle of this coffee shop.
END!
Tuscon: Well Done Desert Birthday Adventure
Tuscon: Well Done Desert Birthday Adventure
We arrive in Tuscon a few hours past midnight, as per usual. We found fauns and tapes scattered about our temporary desert hotel – the home of Matt Huggins, who happened to be out of town for the night. They have beer and Doritos ready for us. Night 1 Dorito party continues until we all fall asleep.
Tuscon Day 2:
Day off! We have absolutely nothing to do. It’s wonderful.
Brad, Phil, Sarah and I set out to find a pool. It is not long before we stumble upon the neighborhood waterhole. It looks great. However, it is locked. After some suspicious hovering, we manage to convince a nearby sunbather to let us in. By the time we are done with our swimming for the day, we realize that we are actually now locked IN, with no one around to help us out. We quickly learn that it is fairly easy to climb the wall and fence and hop down to freedom. We are feeling crafty and triumphant.
My birthday is at midnight. We have dubbed tonight the first of two celebrations: Tequila Birthday Hot Tub Fiesta Night. Invited: Well Done Media, Megafaun, Hometapes, Matt (our host who is not here). We would have invited Bowerbirds, but Mark and Phil were off camping in the desert wilderness, and Beth was in Raleigh for a wedding and flying in an hour or so before the show. Sorry Bowerbirds.
Sarah and I go stock up on a plethora of supplies. Shortly after we return, our host Matt arrives! He is great. Apparently he was at the Phoenix show and I was standing only a few feet from him for a large portion of the night, and somehow managed to not meet him. Oh well, now is the night. I make him a celebratory margarita.
Tequila Birthday Hot Tub Fiesta Night continues with more pool. more hot tub, more margaritas, more fiesta….
Tuscon Day 3:
I wake up feeling pretty bad.
Brad is up, cooking a Well Done Birthday Breakfast. He refuses to let anyone help him. This is his project and his only.
On the menu:
- Breakfast potstickers. Filled with breakfast sausage, onions, mushrooms, and cheese. Served with maple butter cream sauce. Jesus.
- Brad’s super signature roasted potatoes.
- Fruit salad with berries, citrus, and mint.
Good birthday so far.
More fun news – Megafaun gets word that their album was given a four-star review in Rolling Stone today! Rolling Stone! We find the magazine and gaggle at the page for a while. It’s beautiful.
We all take a break to do some work for the afternoon, then part ways so Megafaun can go soundcheck and whatnot. Tim, Matt and I remain.
I ask them what they want to do. They tell me that it’s my birthday, so I have to choose. I choose exploring and sushi. So that’s what we do, but not before I go outside to try and capture yet another incredible desert sunset with my camera, with marginal success.
So we head downtown.
[Birthday hard hat, compliments of Matt. Safety First.]
First stop: Hotel Congress. It’s the venue where Bowerbirds/Megafaun are playing that night, and it also functions as a coffee shop, restaurant, bar, night club, and, as the name implies, a hotel. It’s really an incredible building. I could live here.
The show has been postponed, as Beth is on her way back to Arizona from a weekend in Raleigh, and her flight was delayed. We find the remaining band members in the corner banquet room where they are set to play. Tim makes everyone huddle around his laptop, where he plays them the stop-motion Megafaun music video he’s been assembling for weeks now. They love it. We head to find sushi to celebrate.
We find sushi, we eat sushi, then wander back to the venue to find Megafaun about to start their set. They are not hooked up, but apparently this is intentional. They randomly decided to play tonight’s set completely acoustic and unplugged. After coercing the crowd to snuggle up and sit down as closely as they could, Megafaun played an incredible intimate set, full of extra stories and random conversation with the audience. They also gushed for a while about us and the work we’ve been doing, and made us wave awkwardly as they did so. It was neat.
Beth finally arrived, and the Bowerbirds began their set, which was plugged, unlike Megafaun, but wonderful nonetheless. They also made me awkwardly participate in a mid-show birthday conversation where I had to yell across the crowd to answer their questions about where I was standing and why they couldn’t see me and confirm how old I was. The show continued, and me, Sarah, Carson, Megafaun, Matt and Tim danced around and drank cider and generally enjoyed ourselves.
Very good birthday so far.
Once the show ended, reality started setting in about the fact that this was the last show we were seeing on this tour. We gave our last hugs and final goodbyes to the Bowebirds, as they were staying in the Hotel Congress for the night, then headed back to hotel Matt for hot tub party number two. The celebrations continued until it was daylight again.
Tuscon Day 4:
We all wake up a bit groggy and determined to find a proper breakfast burrito. Google points us to Viva Burrito, a cheap fast-food-ish establishment down the commercial highway. The burritos are only two dollars, so assuming that they are relatively small, Tim and I each order two. Turns out we were quite wrong. We now have four very large burritos to consume, and most of us are too hungover to really consider eating one. So I take a few bites and stash the rest for later.
It’s time to say goodbye to Megafaun and Sarah. What better place than a Viva Burrito parking lot. We take some photos, give lots of hugs, and bid farewell to our wonderful bearded road compadres. We will miss them dearly.
With a quick stop back in Phoenix to re-visit Andy + Arielle, we head back to our final tour destination, San Francisco.
END!
Desert Adventure, Phase 1.
After randomly deciding to continue our tour over lunch in San Francisco, we are on our way back eastward, en route to the desert. We will be in Phoenix in 11 hours.
These drives really don’t phase us anymore. It’s just time to edit photos, or write stories for the blog, or listen to Harry Potter on CD, all from the comfort of our little tourmobile.
By the time we arrive in Phoenix, it’s pretty late… around 3 in the morning. However, we are not remotely ready for sleep. Arielle is awake and ready for us. So is Guitar Hero.
Fast forward 5 hours. Andy gets up to make breakfast. Tim and I are still playing Guitar Hero. We take a break to eat with him. Tim goes back to playing Guitar Hero and I go to bed.
Highlights from Phoenix Phase 1:
- Cartel Coffee‘s “cup of excellence.”
- A great Bowerbirds/Megafaun show, packed with fans. Dry River Yacht Club opened. An at-least-7-piece with an accordion and horn section, and a saucy lady with one hella voice. They were a perfect opener, embodying a lot of elements of Bowebirds/Megafaun’s style but with a clear southwestern mariachi-esque influence. I dig em. During Megafaun’s set, Mega Brad managed to successfully organize a next-day basketball game from the stage. He was ecstatic.
- Well Done Dinner night – A collaboration between master chefs Tim and Megafaun Brad. Curried ground turkey + guacamole burgers with roasted potatoes and other fun things. Holy mother of god.
- Taking whiskey shots from shotglasses made from ice, then smashing them on the ground because we can.
- Watching musicians try to play Guitar Hero.
- Bonding with Arielle & Andy‘s cats. I will be forever obsessed with Turtle, the most appropriately named cat I have ever met.
We finished off Phoenix Phase 1 with a sunset excursion to a nearby mountain. The view was epic. The lighting was epic. We all played around for a while, took some photos, then sat in silence together while the sun set. It was pretty awesome.
After our successful mountain excursion, we watched Megafaun pack their things and leave for Tuscon for more desert adventure. They suggest we follow. Next thing we know, we’re on another late-night road trip across the desert to Tuscon.
END!
San Francisco, but not for long
After what could possibly be the best tour weekend ever, we reluctantly say goodbye to Shaun & Margaret and depart for our next destination – San Francisco. I was particularly excited about this stop, as this is where I will be living for the next three years. It’ll be nice to catch a show in my new hometown.
As many of our drives do, we had some choices as to what route to take. We could take the scenic 101 down the coast (Shaun demanded we do this at least for the Oregon stretch), or the more efficient HWY 5 route. Having slept in a bit too late, as per usual, we were logically forced to choose route 5. It was a 9-hour vs. 13-hour decision, and we had to get into town by the time that Bowerbirds + Megafaun took the stage at Cafe du Nord. We were barely going to make it.
Well, what do you know. More traffic. That + my fairly poor ability to take proper exits turned our proposed 9-hour drive into a 12-hour drive after all. Needless to say, we missed the show. Fantastic.
We did make it in time to have a beer with my dear friend Dakota, who was housing us for the night. As I’ve said in previous posts, after any drive longer than 10 hours, no matter how tired you are, all you want to do is go out, have a beer, and do something social, as you have spent your entire day sitting in the same car seat looking at the same highway. So we stopped by 500 Club, had a beer or two, then headed back to Dakota’s to crash.
The next couple of days were a swift kick in the hind for me. As previously stated, this tour was also a process of moving me and my life to San Francisco. Upon arrival to the city, I realized that I had spent so much time focused on tour that I had put several important projects on the backburner, such as finding somewhere to live, or finding a job. Both quite important.
So I took a small hiatus to hide out and figure out my new San Fran life, while Tim went off and explored the city and caught up with friends.
Things that make San Fran different from North Carolina:
- It’s colder here. Like, way colder. Between 60 and 75 most of the time. I had already discovered this last summer, but while packing for tour, I had only included clothes that were appropriate for summertime in the rest of the country. Basically, I have a few long-sleeved shirts to rotate until the rest of my “winter” clothes are shipped over. I also have no jacket. However, I am very excited about finally being able to wear boots and scarves every day of the year.
- You can be a foodie for cheap. Local/organic seems to be the baseline for food standards here, when in NC, it seems to be the exception. I have also recently realized that I have an obsession with eggs and Mexican food eaten in combination. Cannot-function-without-it obsessed. I blame Boogaloos.
- Beautiful hills, cliffs, ocean sunsets, blah blah beautiful scenery blah gorgeous awesome stuff to climb and look at etc. You can expect plenty of photos of all of this in the next three years (the time that I will be living here).
- You can’t have a car in this damn city. You just can’t. Unless you have a garage and you never ever let your car out of it.
It did not take long for me to become intimately acquainted with San Francisco parking law enforcement.
I was sitting at Dakota’s, bumming her wireless internet while she was at work. I hear a bit of streetside commotion directly outside her living window. I pay it no mind. However, after a few minutes, I become curious. It seems to be coming from exactly where I parked my car. I casually glance out the window.
There’s my car. A tow truck has attached itself to it.
Panic. I run outside. Tow man is trying to break into my car door. I vomit apologies and frantic pleas to let my car go. He ignores me.
I notice a road cop not car from me, viewing the situation musingly. I run up to him.
“I AM SO SORRY I AM NOT FROM HERE I DIDNT KNOW CAN I PLEASE HAVE MY CAR BACK I HAVE MY KEYS I CAN TAKE IT RIGHT NOW”
“You have your keys on you? Right now?”
“YES THEY ARE RIGHT INSIDE THE DOOR”
“If you go inside and get your keys, and get back out here before he breaks into your car, you can have your car back.”
(I run inside and grab keys)
By the time I get back out, I see the road cop talking to the tow guy, ideally about how he should let my car go. I take no chances. I jump in my car, still fully attached to the tow truck. I roll the window down and continue to plea from within my vehicle.
Apparently this worked. The tow guy slowly and reluctantly unhooked all of the intricacies lacing our vehicles together, and went on his way, leaving me in my car, still hyperventilating, still in a state of severe but reducing panic. I park it a block away and head back to Dakota’s with my brand new $73 parking ticket (another distinct difference between San Fran and NC… give me a $12 Raleigh ticket any day).
Fast forward to lunch a couple of days later. Tim and I are faced with a big decision: end tour here? or continue on to Arizona?
We had planned for San Francisco to be the last stop of tour. But, seeing as we missed the show, we were feeling like there needed to be some better sort of closure for this tour. We also knew that Megafaun wanted us to come down to do some more projects with them. We also knew we had places to stay and lots of fun things to do. I also liked the idea of not having to park in San Francisco for a while.
So we discuss the pros and cons over this at lunch, and by the time we pay, we have made a decision. We are going to Arizona. Why the heck not. We pack our things and are on the road a few minutes later. 11 hours til Phoenix!
END!
Portland Day 3: Well Done Day.
10:00 AM. I awake to find Tim and Shaun missing, but there is a note waiting for me. They have gone to get brunch supplies. We are to do a series of tasks before they return, including “be awesome.” On it.
We have planned a Well Done Brunch. Invited: Bowerbirds, Megafaun, Hometapes crew.
We took this project pretty seriously. It’s the first-ever Well Done Brunch. We can’t let the people down. We have menus and everything.
Let me just give you the rundown of what we created.
Iced Coffees.
Mimosas.
Bloody Mary Bar.
Egg frittatas with bacon, white cheddar, garlic, herbs and veggies from the garden.
Blueberry corn pancakes, topped with maple butter.
Curry breakfast potatoes.
Roasted potatoes with garlic and rosemary. (compliments of Megafaun Brad)
Fruit salad.
Shaun was busy preparing a brisket to cook for the next seven hours, I played waitress and took everyone’s order, while Tim shelled out frittatas at a blinding rate. I’m not entirely sure how he did it. He has breakfast superpowers.
We ate like champions, then watched the boys play in the water hose. Just a typical day in tour land.
As if this wasn’t enough to call it a day at 4 PM, we all decide to drive to Washington state for the afternoon to play in the river and jump off cliffs. And that we did.
Finally, nighttime arrives, and it’s time to celebrate Adam’s birthday at the Hometapes abode. We run back to Shaun’s house and prepare yet another epic meal: beef brisket with raspberry BBQ sauce, sweet potato salad, brown sugar baked beans, cabbage slaw, gluten-free peanut butter cookies with fresh strawberry compote, and ice cream. This is getting ridiculous.
We head to the celebration. Brad has french braids in his hair. Mark is wearing Beth’s jorts. More eating like champions. Everyone is comatose by the end of it. We decide that the best day ever has to end at some point, and head back to Shaun’s to retire from yet another glorious night in Portland.
So that ends one of the best weekend of my entire life. Can’t we all just stay here forever?
END!
Ode to the Brisket.
Shaun took me brisket shopping.
Such a large mass of meat is worthy of its own blog post.
END!
Portland Day 2: Bowerbirds + Megafaun + Tire Swing
Day 2 began with Tim cooking the most epic breakfast from whatever he could find in Shaun’s kitchen and/or potted herb garden. Tim is known for his epic breakfast making, but this one really took the cake. I think we’ve earned our keep at Shaun’s house.
We spent the afternoon exploring the downtown Portland area with Shaun & Margaret, eating ice cream, touring giant bookstores, and enjoying gourmet happy hour treats (fried kalamata olives for one dollar? yes please).
We eventually head over to Porque No taco shack to meet Megafaun and the Hometapes crew. We are in the land of Hometapes, and we finally meet the staff of the label, including Sarah’s husband and label co-owner, Adam. I had a shrimp-chile-pineapple taco. I’m fairly sure it was the best taco I’ve ever had. Quite sure actually.
We swung on a tire for a bit, then headed to the venue.
Run-On Sentence:
Megafaun:
Bowerbirds:
The show was at Mississippi Studios. This was a big show, as it’s Hometapes territory, and the turnout was huge. Both bands played one of their best sets I had ever heard them play. The crowd was incredible. I tried to hover near the front and shoot as much as I could.
After the show, we did a quick visit to a neighborhood bar, then headed back to Shaun’s to make obscene amounts of iced coffee and make ridiculously detailed brunch plans until 4 in the morning. Totally normal.
Bed. Epic day of cooking begins in five hours.
END!
Portland Day 1: Surprise BBQ Adventure
Driving out of Utah, we were faced with the decision to drive to Seattle, Anacortes, or Portland. All routes led us through Boise, so we just went to Boise.
I would have liked to see this city, as I’ve only been there for a day before this visit, but we arrived at 3 in the morning and just wanted to get a hotel and pass out. And that we did. We spent a couple of hours in the morning doing some work at an Idaho bookstore-coffeeshop, then headed onward to our destination of choice: Portland.
We chose Portland for a number of reasons.
- The drive was several hours shorter.
- There was no chance of being late to the show, because we’d be an entire day early.
- I had noticed a Portland-based design blog had mentioned our coverage of Megafaun. I sent him a message thanking him and informed him that we happened to be on our way to his city. He asked us if we had plans upon our arrival (we did not) and invited us to a BBQ he was hosting. Of course we said yes. Who doesn’t love BBQ-ing with strangers in Oregon? It sounded like an adventure in the making to me.
Nine hours later, we’re driving along the Gorge, surrounded by water and mountains and Christmas trees and windmills that resemble giant bladed alien probes. We arrived at Shaun’s house soon after.
Facts about Shaun:
- He is a Portland-based designer who spent years working with Wieden+Kennedy.
- He is moving to Raleigh-Durham (our hometown) in 10 days to work as art director for Travelocity.
- He was recently in Raleigh staying with my friend Grayson. Hanging out with my friends.
- He is best friends with the owners of Hometapes, Megafaun’s record label, who we’ve been touring with already.
- Basically, we were destined to meet him anyway.
I don’t think I can say enough how freaking small this world is.
So we dove right in. Lots of tasty drinks and grub waiting for us. It was a proper west-coast BBQ, a foodie’s haven. We quickly got acclimated to our new environment and finished up the night crashing our new temporary Portland abode with our new best friends, Shaun and Margaret.
We would end up living here for the next three days.
END!
Karaoke night in Utah.
Night three in Dinosaur, Utah. Back from epic camping adventure. We wanted to see what sort of tasty grub this town had to offer. We had the choice of about two restaurants. We went with logic and naturally chose the Dinosaur Cafe.
I feel it’s necessary to restate how epic the clouds are here. Upon our arrival at the cafe I witnessed glowing rain for the first and likely only time in my life. Glowing!
The cafe was a dive and it appeared to be devoid of any staff when we first arrived. For a minute I was unsure if there was some unsaid method of self-service that none of the regulars were telling us about. Maybe they just wanted to relish in our confusion just a little longer. We finally found the one waitress though. I had an insanely good BBQ sandwich. After our meal, we continued to sit awkwardly for about a half-hour until the waitress finally informed us that we pay at the bar. Now we know for next time.
And then we hit the bar. I say bar singular because there is ONE. I forget the name of it… something saloon. It was karaoke night.
You know how some bars attempt to embody a country-western theme? This bar epitomized everything you could envision a country saloon to be. And it was all real. Totally legit. Old paintings of naked girls in cowboy hats, antiques randomly strewn about the wall, lots of animal heads and horns hanging, and even saloon doors to get to the bathrooms. Country as country can be.
We spent the night drinking more beer that doesn’t work, teaching the bartender fun shot recipes, and watching Utah folk dance to Nelly and Kid Rock between karaoke rounds. This actually sparked my intense desire to have a Bowebirds/Megafaun/WellDoneMedia dance party as soon as possible. Basically the same thing that regularly happens in Raleigh, just in a different setting than the Jackpot. I’ll be sure let you know how that goes once it happens.
I will miss this crazy crazy state of Utah.
Dinosaur Camp.
With Salt Lake checked off on our to-do list, we decide to switch directions and head back eastward for a short hiatus in Dinosaur National Monument. I mean, how often do you get the chance to hang out in Dinosaur? Who could say no to that?
Liz had lots of fun planned for us. Our first objective was camping in Echo Park, which was about an hour and a half of driving through the monument, the last half-hour covering only about a mile’s distance through ridiculous terrain. I’m glad the car survived.
We drank wine and legitimate Ukrainian absinthe, read horoscopes, applied fake tattoos, ate lots of bread and hummus and avocados, cooked gourmet s’mores and listened to Liz serenade us on her guitar til the wee hours of the morning.
We all awoke early the next morning to the sun glaring down on the canyon, forming a nice atmospheric hot-pocket enclosing our campsite. We did some morning exploring until it was too hot to continue, then hopped back in the Dinosaur-mobile and trekked back to home base on the other side of the monument.
We did a bit of extra-sight seeing on the way, of course.
COW!
See that little canyon in there? That’s where we woke up.
END!
Colorado/Utah Driving.
These states are particularly fun to look at. Nine hour drives aren’t so bad when the topography changes drastically every 30 minutes.
Utah’s topography was particularly epic. We soon found ourselves in the region of Dinosaur. Dinosaur functions as both a city in Colorado and a giant national monument that extends between Colorado and Utah. It is also a glorious haven for dinosaur statues. We picked up our friend Liz and continued on to Salt Lake to catch the end of the Bowebirds‘ set at Kilby Court, the best backyard venue ever.
Other notable fact about Utah: The beer doesn’t work. You can also get in big legal trouble if you are caught with liquor that was not purchased in the state of Utah. You also have to purchase wine at the one state liquor store allotted per city.
But yeah, other than those few alcohol-related differences, Utah is fabulous.
DENVER!
After waking up from an incredible night in Lawrence, Kansas, we said our goodbyes to our gracious hosts of Ample Branches and set off on our 9-hour trek to Denver.
Our directions were simple enough: take two turns, drive 500 miles, take another turn, and you’re in Denver.
Somehow I managed to take ZERO photos from the drive… but I think that was largely due to the fact that we were driving through the desolate expanse of Kansas and eastern Colorado.
It was dark and rainy by the time we arrived, but the city still looked glorious. Our first stop was a coffee shop to do some work and meet up with our beloved friend Nick, who recently moved to Denver from our Raleigh homeland. He was happy and looked great, other than the shoulder he managed to recently dislocate from his body which sort of leaves his right arm dangling. He enjoyed showing it to us repetitively as we drank our coffee.
We then headed to our temporary Colorado shelter, the home of the honorable Matt Slaby. Slaby is a Nordic viking who owns a beautiful house in the hills of Denver. He makes good photos and good wine. He has two cats, both affectionately named “Cat.” He currently has a fish bone stuck in his tonsil. He is also part-owner of Luceo Images, Tim’s photo collective.
We spent night one exploring Slaby’s basement, drinking Slaby’s homemade wine, playing Slaby’s guitars and piano, and harassing Slaby’s cats. A good night at Slaby’s indeed.
Day 2. Tim and Nick went to ride bikes around town, while I caught up on some work I needed to complete for grad school. I ate my first enjoyable salmon dinner of all time at a little Japanese dive, then headed to the venue in which we were supposed to meet up with Bowerbirds & Megafaun.
Well. Tonight’s show presented some complications.
1) Apparently this is some sort of music festival, which apparently justifies a $25.00 ticket price.
2) None of the bands were allowed a guest list.
3) Tim managed to sneak in while helping the Bowerbirds load, and found an extra arm band allowing him unlimited access. I did not.
So I decided that this show I would do without. $25.00 for a show that we have already seen in four states is a little out of my budget, as much as I would have loved to see then again. In addition, Tim was already in, so at least one of us could be collecting material for the blog.
So I went to drink apricot beer with Slaby on a patio elsewhere, where we discussed and exchanged our views on networking and marketing and overzealous wine descriptions.
I headed back to the venue once the show was over to hang out with the folks I had missed. We considered going out and finding some adventure with everyone, but we were a bit tired and wanted to save some money. So we all headed back to Slaby’s where we ended up drinking homemade strawberry wine and playing cards until 2 AM anyway.
Day 3. We woke up late, had one last epic battle with Slaby and his oversized weaponry, and headed on our way. Next stop: Utah.
