Kerrville Folk Festival, a Different Time in Space, 2007

Kerrville Folk Festival, a Different Time in Space, 2007
A year ago I stumbled on this place, Home. Now Kerr-vered, I fly into Tejas on a red eye out of Portland Town, now a year later, not on the road traveling, but working, time is short this time.
I fly in to Odessa airport on a Sunday morning at 8am, not much sleep, happy to be in Tejas, happy to see Renee, we meet in Kerrville last year, shared a friendship at camp, we talked for three months as I completed my journey, then got together in Las Vegas after my loop. Then off on our own side trip around the Southwest camping, making love, falling in love, you know the rest.
On Monday we head to Kerrville to set-up camp, she has a working gig in San Antonio the next day, I spend time catching up with friends, eating BBQ in a trailer as its raining, and the big show starts on Thursday.
It’s been rainy this year in Tejas, last year we had 100+ degree heat the whole festival.
The sprit of the camp is growing slowly each day, people arriving every moment, hugs, laughter, time to catch up with the all of life. “Welcome Home”
Thursday night the first night of the festival the McKay Brothers open, they are from Bandera, just down the road, two handsome Texas boys, with songs about pick-ups, beer & girls, fun, then Thad Beckman from Portland town, wonderful blues, it is a blessing to have him up here in Oregon, then Ian Moore from Vashon Island, where all the freaks live a short ferry ride out of Seattle, then the Austin Lounge Lizards doing their classics, during the show, I am told by my friend that she knows two of the members quite well, over time we all have known someone else better than well, history, it’s all good, then the treat of the first night is James Hand, a shy real country cowboy, swiveling hips, a proud guitar, sad lyrics from lonesome cowboy, a real hoot!
That night it starts raining right after the show and continues, we wake to our road in front of our tent, it’s now a small river now, after coffee and breakfast, well it’s already time for beer and a need to divert water, shoveling a good half a day to save our camp, the camp is in good sprit, although the main stage is not suitable for the big show, we are all to busy to notice, so later in the day the word gets out 9pm at Threadgill, under cover, newly terraced, it's really nice, we are in for a magical night, the sprit of the festival prevails, that night The Laws from Ontario, then Tracy Grammer was a delight, on to Michael Smith, intelligent words, a gifted song writer, a great mind f**k for some lucky lady, topping the night a Band of Heathens out of Austin town.
Saturday, the rain continues, we are back at Threadgill for the New Folk contest, Rana Rose from Portland/ Austin signs a song about Oregon, then Anthony da Costa, 13 years young, a force to be reckoned with, 16 singers each day, only six chosen.
The New Folk Contest is the core of this place to me, were ones words are there for all to hear, we listen, no judgment, just a great respect to these songwriters.
Saturday night back at the main stage, Cory Sheridan from Moab, Peter Yarrow from Peter, Paul & Mary, he is one of the people that keep this thing going, topping the night Jimmy LaFave, we all dance to a beautiful night of music.
Its tequila night for me, eight shots of Patron, Renee and I wander around the camp listening to songs around campfires, we make it to the Crow’s Nest where Brian Cutean of Oregon holds camp, high above the camp, of a ledge, and folks pass the guitar and share their songs.
I slide off a truck sideways, it’s easy to go downhill for me after that.
Later that night the rains start again, 5 inches in a couple of hours, we survive, yet it’s time to divert water again, just inches from our tent, we are in a good spot which is now river front property, a good time to drink coffee then smoke cigars & beers under our canopy, as the clouds lift, a double rainbow appears, a rubber gator flows down a the new river, a man with a boogey board rides the waves, we make our own high water gauge, it has bewildered me that here in Tejas they have a pole marked from one foot to five feet, why would anyone try over two feet, they do and they float away.
As we recover from two more down pours, our campfire is flooded, as well as many tents with belongings, sleeping in or/on wet bedding is not comforting, Renee & I did well, only some papers get wet, the tent and placement (Renee) also get a pat on the back.
Sunday back to Threadgill for the New Folk in the afternoon, then back in the evening for an extremely fun couple in Small Potatoes, they have fun with you and their music, then Sara Hickman, a Texas legend in the making, then Steve James from Austin as well, then the great voice of Vance Gilbert, A.J. Croce can flat play piano, and to close the show on this wet wonderful day, the Hudsons.
I did not get to as many campfires this year, between the weather and the shorter stay, only the first big weekend for me, I know now that this is only the beginning, during the week things settle down, but the music keeps a-coming, for me only one more day & night.
Monday it’s our time to cook, last year I cooked cedar-plank wild salmon over the open campfire, as well as grilled asparagus, balsamic mushrooms and proscuitto wrapped prawns, and pesto corn on the cob, so this year with Renee as my assistant, we go for the prawns again, getting the prawns in ice as a prepare our meal outside, accomped with tomato (ripe tomatoes in may in this state), fresh mozzarella and basil, we do well, each night someone cooks a fabulous meal, Sally and Steve with whole fired grilled beef tenderloin, Grant & Greg (not a couple) with Steaks, Wes & Mary with Lasagna, all this with mud between our toes. Don & Freda’s Fish fry is canceled on the first Saturday because of as well.
We make it happen, although I miss the Blues Project with Thad Beckman, Stefan George and Gary Primich, o’ well, we do get to go back to the main stage for a beautiful evening concert of singer-song writers, all past new folk winners: opening is one of my favs Diana Jones, she has found her home and voice, she seems more relaxed after having won last years New Folk, and my view, she may have found someone, then Jonathan Byrd from North Carolina, I enjoy his songs, words and southern voice, has well as has politics, later in the week is BYRDJONES both Jonathan and Diana together, I won’t be here, back to the evening Amilia K. Spicer, a darling of this festival, John Gorka, the singer-songwriters songwriter, o my god, voice and words, excellent, then topping off a magical night Susan Werner with her piano.
We sit in the front row on the end, in the same spot as last year, only this year Renee & I are a couple.
We go campfire hopping on our last night in camp, many excellent players, the topper was a woman singing a song to her husband, a non profession that got everyone singing and smiling, these moments continue, endure and enlighten though out the whole festival, come high water, 100+ degree heat, fire ants, wild pigs, and what ever our God will throw at us. Family.
The next morning Tuesday, we prepare Eggs Benedict for all, a good kick off to travel back to Odessa with Renee for a couple of relaxing days and nights before heading back to Portland and a job.
We did stop at Cooper's BBQ in Junction for some great BBQ coming and going to the Festival.
Writing this, I have sad news Berk Snow died in a plane crash, his partner Suzanne survived, I had meet them many years ago though an old partner, only to see them at last years Folk Festival, seeing them again, we had the privedge to drive them to the airport, they had flown his 1958 Cessna from Northern California to the Festival, not knowing this would be the last time they would fly over Kerrville.
He would come to the festival to listen to music, find folks for his radio show at KMUD in Garberville.
More about this: www.kmud.org
Fly away my brother, I will always think of you flying over camp, waving at us from above on golden wings.

Rocking the boat in Mayberry.

The Mayberry Machiavellis of the Bush Administration are finding resistance in the darndest places.
BY THE NOSE | TheNose at Willamette Weekly
[June 11th, 2003] The Nose has never met Barbara Comstock, but he wants to take her out on a date.

The Nose became aware of Comstock, a U.S. Justice Department spokeswoman, Monday morning while listening to a National Public Radio report about the backlash against the Patriot Act. Comstock was downplaying the fact that 120 U.S. cities (and three states) have passed resolutions opposing the Act. Comstock stressed that the cities were clustered in liberal New England or around universities.

"The usual enclaves," she told NPR's Juan Williams, "where you might see Nuclear-Free Zones."

That's why the Nose would like to treat her out to a night on the town in beautiful Gaston, Ore., a sleepy burg of 600, just 30 miles west of Portland on the edge of Washington County. We'd start at Cooper D's diner for a Bison Deluxe Burger, then grab a soft-serve ice cream cone at the Gaston Market (a.k.a. Ralph's Pretty Good Grocery) before ending with a glass or two of Hamm's at Crickett's Tavern.

Comstock would see that that the guys who buy their Carhartt overalls and Bailey hats at Gaston Feed & Hardware aren't making a fashion statement. And it's neither a Vermont socialist enclave nor a radical college town, but a pretty typical rural outpost of America, where George Bush beat Al Gore 97 to 71. And two months ago, this city told Comstock's boss, U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft, to shove it.

On April 9, the nonpartisan Gaston City Council passed a resolution, crafted by councilor Michael Slocum, that forbids city employees, including police, from apprehending people solely because of immigration violations or helping investigate anyone not suspected of a crime.

Slocum, a Democrat, says he was nervous about broaching the topic with his fellow councilors, who include a Republican, a Libertarian, three Democrats and an independent. "I was a bit worried about rocking the boat in Mayberry," he says. But his colleagues were as eager as a heifer in heat. The council voted 7-0 in favor of Slocum's resolution stating that the U.S.A. Patriot Act threatens "fundamental rights and liberties."

The 342-page act, passed by Congress just a month after 9/11, creates the crime of "domestic terrorism," gives the federal government unprecedented access to financial, medical and library records of U.S. citizens, and makes it easier for agents to tap phones and intercept email. Non-citizens face the prospect of deportation or indefinite detainment (without judicial appeal) even if not charged with any crime.

"It's like gun control," says Gaston councilor Richard Sager. "It's the first step toward tyranny."

Last week, Ashcroft's own inspector general, Glenn Fine, released a report showing that there were "significant problems" in the detention of many of the 762 foreign nationals held on immigration charges since 9/11. None has been publicly charged with terrorism, and yet they spent an average of nearly three months behind bars while the feds snooped around, many going weeks before seeing a lawyer.

You'd think Ashcroft might have been contrite. But, instead, he got pushy, last week telling Congress he needs more powers. While he limited his requests to efforts to keep tabs on actual terrorism suspects and harsher penalties for convicts, many reckon he wants even more. A draft bill to expand the Patriot Act, which surfaced in February, would allow Ashcroft to keep secret the names of people he detains until criminal charges are filed, collect DNA evidence from suspects and strip citizenship from anyone who "becomes a member of, or provides material support" to a "terrorist organization...engaged in hostilities against the U.S."

Maybe that's why the act has united the NRA crowd with the NPR crowd.

"You can't let government erode your rights," says Sager, a registered Libertarian. "They don't repeal taxes, and they don't restore liberties."

Kerrville, between Time & Space #2006

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Kerrville Folk Festival 2006 May 24th- June 11th, on the Quiet Valley Ranch Celebrating Songwriters since 1972.
Turning onto the ranch after a long hot drive south from San Angelo, after being alone driving down from Oregon to discover this very special place, were music, words, voices, harmonies, singing and playing to sunup everyday, all types on special people coexisting, supporting, sharing, laughing, sharing outside toilets for 19 days, but everyone works hard to share for respect and burden on all of us living close, FEMA could learn something about living in the elements, which Texas definitely has, plus the joy of working in the kitchen 4-5 hours a day, 5 days a week, I washed dishes, did prep, got to cook a little, I know how to fill in gaps when needed in the kitchen, we did well, the on stage music was fantastic, when you though you had heard the best, the best music rises again, on the stage, at the Kennedy Outdoor Theater, which is the large stage, at the Threadgill Stage it has been remodeled, and on to the campgrounds were half on the camp is musicians, the staff too, magic fills the air, some sleep with ear plugs, not me, rock me to sleep with live music nightly, Sweet Jesus yes.
Oregon was well represented, Brian Cutean a long time piece of this festival, gentle soul, years ago he had played at the Clinton St. Theater in SE Portland, and Adam and Kris, a long time folk couple, now a celebrity odd couple featured in People Magazine recently, also played at the Clinton St. A hot young guitarist from Eugene, David Jacobs-Strain, recent Austin transplant to Portland Thad Beckman, great performer, delightful stage performer, I believe in plays in a little pub in SW Portland, GO SEE THIS MAN PLAY!

And Rana Rose of our kitchen staff, she works at Mississippi Studios, great voice and incredible song writing. Go Oregon!
Everyday there is music, from the Main Stage Johnsmith and the Asylum Street Spankers with Whamo of Austin Poet Slam fame, he performer in the Portland Poet Slam in 1996, the second day Matt Anderson of Toronto, Canada, great blues play, also that night Joel Rafael and Steve Gillette & Cindy Mansen of Vermont. Day 3 Jack Williams of South Carolina, suberp guitar player and writer. Day 4 Guy Clark, another Texas Legend, then Butch Hancock from Terlingua, Texas, find this place on the map? And David Jacobs-Strain, a young force to be reckoned with! He should be at the Portland Blues Festival every year.


Monday May 29th, Memorial Day dynamite line-up Django Walker of Austin, Bill Hearne and Bonnie Hearne of Santa Fe, New Mexico, Stefan George of Tucson, great Robert Johnson covers, as well as his own blues tunes, the Replacements of Austin with Jon DeeGraham, and topping off the night Sue Foley, watch out Bonnie!
Mid week performances are in the Threadgill Theater, named for a man from Austin that let musicians play for a free meal, song and dinner, please. This place can test your endurance. Tuesday, the FlatLiners with Vince Bell, Steven Fromholz and Eric Taylor, Wednesday May 31st Amilia K Spicer, a young rising star, and Vance Gilbert of Boston, great voice and fun performer, he played one night near our circle with Adam and Kris, Joel Rafael, Tom Prasada-Rao and the music rained down from heaven, I went to bed at 2am, they played on, it was a magical night, sweet dreams.
This is where Michelle Shocked taped her Campfire release, she also worked on the recycling crew at the same time! Go Recycling!!!
On Thursday June 1st, “New Folk Club 7”, a evening of former New Folk Finalists, the ones that did not make the cut, Lyle Lovett being one of them. No he was not here this festival.
Over 8oo entries from all over the world submit their songs, 32 are selected to perform at Kerrville, from that only 6 are chosen, then they perform in a special concert, my fav was Diana Jones of Nashville, and she can to perform on two differnt nights at our campfire, sweet woman, unique voice and songs with great emotional depth.
Only Day 9, Peter Yarrow and Noel Paul Stookey, guess? Peter has been a big part of this festival, and I got to meet him, everyone is approachable here, also that night Vance Gilbert again, Thad Beckman got everyone up out of their seats and then Ruthie Foster, rocked the house, dust from the dancers was flying. Saturday Amelia again, opening was Los Texmaniacs from San Antonio, and closing was Texas legend Ray Willy Hubbard.
Day 11 Bill Staines of Boston, then Dar Williams, South Austin Jug Band, more dust, great young group and topping of the night the Austin Lounge Lizards.
Now I am starting to get woozy, way too much fun, way not enough sleep, did I mention the 100 degree heat daily and free staff beer. Like a toad, reserve your energy, I need a rock to craw under.Back to Threadgill, Michael Troy, fun, fun, fun and Anais Mitchell, sweet beauty and voice, let’s just say that myself, George and Grant, my new friends, all of us older guys, were all in love that night.
On Tuesday June 6th, day13, I went to a motel for a long nap in an air-conditioned room, and I update the blog, sorry about delays or worries. Swim in a pool, called friends, a much needed break. I missed Peter Alsop and Dana Copper that night, sorry.
In the home stretch Steve Seskin and the Dreamsicles with a cast of many, great great fun with jazzy funky music. Thursday, a group called the Work O’The Weavers, they cover the older folk songs, excellent music, and they are a great link to the history of Folk.
Back to the Main Stage, Friday night, a good line-up not the best, still great anywhere else in the world, playing were Carolyn Hester, Northern Lights and Red Dirt Rangers of Stillwater, Oklahoma, this band rocked, they would be fun to see in a bar.
Saturday Beth Wood, Darden Smith, then the Limeliters doing the great folk music of a past generation, Go see Trout Fishing in America, they play and have fun doing so, JonDeeGraham, one of my favorite new discoveries, topping the night Gary Primich.
One more night, David Amram Conductor from New York has been coming to Kerrville for years, with soloists Jonathan Byrd, Jimmy LaFave, Albert and Gage, Megan Meisenbach, Trout Fishing in America and Bobby Bridger.
With a small orchestra, this was another magical night of music, remembrance of those that have passed on, on friendship, and singing, holding hands, hugs and tears.
David loves all forms of music, people and campfires, he told stories, and directed, each performer brought their own special magic to the stage.
That’s a little peek at the performances, there are workshops for performers, songwriters, teachers, a Blues Project that was good fun, Allen Damron, a important part of this festival for years died, there was a remembrance for him, I was told that there was not a person that was not his friend, a good soul, I did not know the man, just the work of this festival he left behind. You did well, Allen. May you find a special place to continue your work in the heavens?
Camping for weeks, people share, love and laugh, I met a group of fellow Texans camped across the way, they are family to me now, we sit, talked under a great shade tree, cooked wonderful food, there are some great cooks here, campfire cuisine at it’s best. One of my new friends is Renee, full of life & fun from Odessa, then Joe, Shanna & Conner of McKinney, Bill & Belinda of Abilene, Wes & Mary of Odessa, Grant from Austin, Brother Tim and Nicki, Nicki is a hoot! Sharon of San Antonio, Steve, Sally, Katrina & Tristan of Houston, Janine & Bill of Austin, Penny from Plano, Greg from Austin, then there is my soul brother George of San Antonio, we spent time talking, soaking in the river, having Apple Ice Cream and Pie for lunch in Medina. In the Kitchen, Stu and Carrie, Wayne and Laura, they also are board members with their heart and soul into keeping Kerrville alive, this has been going for another 35 years. So many musicians, their music is etched in my head forever.
Old friends Suzanne and Burk flew a 1959 172 Cessna aircraft from Northern California, I have not seen them in 12 years, you see people from all over America here.
Kerrville is a place between time and space, a place of harmony and love, caring and compassion, sing your song, someone will listen.
19 days later, I am back on the road.

Detour to Home

San Angelo to Kerrville May 24th
When driving into San Angelo, I turn on the radio, first time in a while, mostly listening to tapes, I tune in the Austin station, about 5pm it's national news, not much has changed in a month. Why do I get caught up in the world news, why have we not learned to get along in a few thousand years!
There is mention of a folk festival in Kerrville, I spend the night mostly alone in the park, nice evening walk, a wonderful park host Jessie Faye, more in a minute.
Kerrville, where the hell is Kerrville, I look on the map around Austin, no Kerrville.
Back to the park, Jessie, alone here as a park host, an older independent woman, we talk, she is a hoot, left her husband behind, no divorce, she like’s living in Texas, her husband does not.
She is full of life and wonder, she needs a recipe for marshmallow icing, I have my James Beard cookbook get it out, and we are in business. When leaving Oregon , my friends Kim & Jeff give me presents, a 6-pack of good Oregon Beer, a pound of coffee, and a box of 34 rolls of Necco Wafers, my favorite candy, but too many. The car was packed just right, then we have the Neccos added, my box needs to be fixed up, Jessie and I duct tape the box together.
We talk about food, kids, life in her little air condtioned camp office . A beautiful person this Ms. Jessie Faye.
The next day I drive into San Angelo to the local library to post my blog, most libraries have access now, they made me get a card, so now I have a San Angelo library card. I post quickly, not much time, that’s why at times there are no pictures and the fact that I thought I could only post one as I learn as I travel.
I look up Kerrville Fork Festival, I need music, not sure about what Kerrville looks like on line, you never know, unless you risk adventure. Please take the risk!
About San Angelo, wide streets, long lights, but in the old part of town is Miss Hattie’s Cafe and Saloon, the cafe was originally a bank, the Bordello next store. The men would say they where going to the bank, then sneak though a secret door in the floor, then up and over the rooftop, across a wooden board to this “gentleman’s social center”. The bank would get a cut, the first franchise fees, at least you get something for it.
It was shut down after 50 years of business, there are tours, the food is excellent, Chicken Fried Steak and Iced Tea, it’s in my blood and the shops filled with western clothes, hats and boots. Everyone needs a hat in Texas. Boots too!
I eat and head south, my detour.
I am excited, I was one day out of Austin, now it will be 19 days later by the time I get to Austin.
South on SR 87, there are now Farm Roads, in West Texas they had Ranch Roads.
To Eden, the center of Texas, South on SR 83 to Menard, I spy a little Laundromat, a dusty little town off to the side, an old main street, wide with small flat roofed buildings, a few businesses. In the laundry is a poster of Bud Clark’s Expose Yourself to Art, he was our Portland Mayor, owns the Goose Hollow Inn, rode his bike to city hall as mayor, how did the poster get here. I talk to the people in the Pharmacy, small town talk, lots of time to chat, next door is a cowboy making saddles, he used to ride the open range, now a wife and boy in school, trying to stay close to home, nice leather work, we also talk spurs, Garcia spurs, the best are out of Elko, Nevada.

South to Junction, pass Cooper’s BBQ, one of the best in Texas, south to SR 41 E to SR 27E to Kerrville, South on SR 16 to the Kerrville Fork Festival.As I pull into the gate, everyone says “Welcome Home”
54.2 MPG, 242.1 miles traveled

West Texas, lots of it!

Across West Texas May 23, 2006
Leaving Guadalupe, up early, a beautiful sunrise, to lazy to take a picture. The wind blew all night shaking the tent violently , I was afraid to get up and pee, thinking the tent would fly away.Back on the road in a hurry, too windy for coffee making. Everyone was running because of the wind, scurrying rats after their nest was invaded by the West Texas Wind.
Leaving head north on SR 62, pass Nichol Creek, looks like an abandoned gas station, great picture there, instead of stopping, I want coffee. I make a run for Ranch Road 652 to Orla, just a road nothing on it, I am taking this route to stay off the interstate. Here No stores, no coffee, no nothing and I loss an hour due to time change, my goal is to get to San Angelo tonight, then one to two days to Austin.
South on SR 285, I drive though Pecos, where the World’s 1st Rodeo started. Most of the stores in town were closed for good, as I head out of town, just before Interstate 20, there is a Wal-mart, gotta love the low prices, gotta love that small town feel. In February there’s a Texas Cowboy Poetry Gathering here.
Down to Fort Stockton, its a hot 93, need a lunch before the long drive across West Texas to San Angelo, this is country where the wind blows & blows.
Driving though town, looking for chow, then I head back though town, I often head from one end of town to another to see what my options are when on the road, I spy a place, moments after driving by, the place is packed. Mostly Steakhouses and Mexican restaurants here. So in the SW I should take advantage of my opportunities, there are lots of cars and trucks all around this little cafe.

The screen door says open M-F, closed Sat-Sun. The front of the menu says, ”our food is made daily with authentic ingredients. This is a local hot spot, I get in early, at least for me it's 11:30am. I picked the right place, the place is packed, mostly Latinos, locals and me, the tourist. (I have been back three times in the last year)

The name of this restaurant is Mi Casita, owned by Adonna Louise Gonzalez. Sauces are family recipes passed down by her grandfather Eliborio Pena this place was established in 1992. This is the real deal. The salsa is excellent with the chips of course, a good sign.
Everyone drinks iced tea in the south, You can have it sweet or not, I love SWEET TEA. I order the Cancun special, spicy green chile sauce and a mild red chile sauce over beef enchiladas, Spanish rice and beans, all to too damn good, then the bill, a whopping $8.28.
Two days of Texas wind, my journal says ”Quit blowing please”. Did I mention the heat, only 93, it's only noon!
Fueled up and ready to go. On to Interstate 10, a few miles to SR 67, Texas takes two pages in the Rand Road map.
A future story on what is south of here, Marathon, Alpine, Marfa and Big Bend country, I have be been back here a couple of time since this road trip, more later.
I may wish to move here one day, little did I know I would be so close to a possible future home just south of Fort Stockton, yet this journey needs to be completed.
Even more surprises in a day and a special new friend and friends in Kerrville.
Welcome Home! (6/07)coming!

On to San Angelo, thinking I can be in Austin in a day or two. The scenery slowly changes, only wildlife I see is the roadkill, I pass oil being pulled from the ground, the smell of gas in the air, a pleasant surprise of wind power on the hills here, lots of wind turbines, what better place then West Texas.
Pass Girvin, McCamey, Rankin, Texon, Best, Big Lake, Mertzon, Sherwood, Tankersly and at last San Angelo. Little restaurants to note, McComb’s BBQ in Rankin, in Big Lake Grandma’s claims to have the best burgers, The Yellow Rose Cafe in Barnett.
The park host in the Del Norte Park in California told me they host in San Angelo in the winter, so go to the North side of the state park here for more shade, a nice place, and I am again the only paying customer.
The wind and going downhill must have helped.
66.5 MPG, 368.6 miles traveled

Talkin' like a local!

Talkin' like a local! Texan that is.
I recently meet someone who says, you only need 9 praises to talk like a local.
Please add more, we can write a book. The only problem is in crossing West Texas, you may only see 4 people all day.
Hidy-Hidy
How yew doin’
Tell yew what
Boy Howdy
Ahamajin (I'magane)
Shoot Faher
I’ll be durn
F**k me runnin’
Whoo!
Please add more.
Like: Fixin’ too

Alien Forms, true and not seen!

Reporting from Roswell
Forth of July Weekend, Annual UFO festival parades down main street, all the locals run for cover.
The Roswell Informer, just off the wire, it reads:
Humans refuse to accept lake has no bottom, “It must have a bottom”’ explained one bewildered human”, “then how does all the water stay in?”
“Roswell’s four mild climates make it perfect vacation destination for any species”.
Roswell, nice town, yet obsessed by UFO’s.
There are numerous UFO museums, research centers, and shops here, the locals tell me when the visitors come for the UFO festival, and they hide like good humans would when invaded. Remember “War of the Worlds”.
A few eateries, mainly Mexican and the Cowboy Café, must be one in every SW town, stopped at the Heavenly Coffee shop, nice folks, they have Internet access. I even left with some day old muffins and cherry turnovers. Good camping food.
Heading south on SR 285, long, dry, hot road, not much to look at.
Destination Carlsbad Caverns, this has been on my agenda, from the start.
Stopping in Artesia, I have been told about La Fonda Mexican restaurant here, all you can eat buffet, it’s OK. Like in the old days, when I was younger, camping for weeks, we would go to King’s Table, eat enough for a few days. Yummy!
Carlsbad Caverns by 2pm, just in time to do the whole thing, they say they will turn the lights off. Isn't this a cave. They even have a pamphlet in Spanish. Any For Aliens?











A Mescalero Apache legend tells of a tribal medicine man who was last seen disappearing into the darkness of the cave, beating his medicine drum.
The Apaches make annual pilgrimage to leave food offerings at the cave entrance.
Local ranchers attracted by bats flying out of this hole in the ground, found its entrance in the 1880’s.
The Miners explored the cave in their free time. The curiosity of one man carried him far into the cave. The stories of fabulous sights bought more & more people to see the underground wonders.
Carlsbad Caverns National Monument was established on Oct. 25, 1923.
800,000 years ago, caves started to form, the Big Room is the largest natural limestone chamber in the U.S. with a length of four thousand feet, a width of 625 feet and its greatest ceiling height of 255 feet. It covers 53 acres. There are great wonders to look at down here. It takes about 3 hours to walk though, take lots of batteries for the camera, I ran short of the Big Room, a bought the DVD to look at later.
Wonders like this take thousands of years to form, our lives are so short in relationship to natures.
BATS, every evening you can watch thousands of bats, thick as smoke funnel out of the cave. Sixteen species of these amazing flying mammals have been identified in the park. The most common is the Mexican Freetail.
The formations are a fest for the eyes! Well worth the trip, plus it’s 56 degrees always.
Sitting here at my camp, drinking Roswell Alien Amber Ale, not bad for Alien Beer.
Into Texas, my birthplace, south of the Caverns is Guadeloupe Mountains Natural Park. The tallest mountain in Texas,8749 feet.



It's all down hill from here.






Beautiful campgrounds, sitting between Hunter Peak and Guadalupe Peak, birds chirping, cactus is blooming and only a few bugs.
There are mountain lions, so watch the little ones, or not.
The desert, the bloom of the cactus flower, the thunder cloud, the light show of a summer storm…the howl of a coyote at dusk..a lizard barking in the warm morning sun…
A good way for to start my journey into the Motherland.Across Texas West to East.
May 22, 2006
58.0 mpg/ 165.7 miles travels

Eden to Aliens!

In the Gila Wilderness,
May 21, 2006
Sadly I have to go. After a breakfast of apple pancakes and scrambled eggs, juice and coffee with all the house guests. 2 more soaks, pay my bill and leave.
Yet another gem discovered!
No mortgage, no bills, life on the road, why not! I take SR 35 out, pass canyons, lodges, over the Continental Divide again, it meanders, flowers are blooming in the mountains, they are in a 2 year drought, extreme fire danger here, thanks to the volunteer fire dept., and there hard work, for they are the backbone of safety in America, most are unpaid volunteers.
I stop at Mimbres, 2 calls from my kids, sweet. I asked the fellow about a road, he says it’s not paved, Dean had told me about this road, I trust Dean, I ask the owner of the store if he’s from here. He laughs. The road is paved, always ask more than one opinion on the road.
Pass Hillsboro, NM, the whole town is for sale, even the 1827 grocery store.Location, Location, Location!
Down SR 27, the road has gravel, and cattle, open range, pass a ghost town at Lake Valley to the Jct. of SR 26 & SR 27 where the

“Middle of Nowhere Bar” is, by the way, it’s for sale too.



It's a long drive to Roswell and the Bottlomless Lake, pass Las Cruces, Hot! Hot! Hot!, 25 miles from the border, head to Hwy. 70E, I need to get around the White Sands Missile Base. Stopped on Hwy 70, for an immigration inspection, the young army fellow says “looks like you are on a hell of a trip," I say "yes sir I am”. The heat and stop in this desert,shit, my engine light is on again, over heated battery cells, I will need to have someone reset them again, Maybe Austin.
Long drive, quick stop in Alamogordo to tacos, BOOM!
Pass the Mescalero Apache reservation, Fry Bread!
On into Roswell, Sunday evening, not much open, nor any aliens sited either.
In July, they have a parade, the locals run, as alien visitors invade the town.
Last night in the Bottomless lake campsite, I am the only visitor, turned on camp lite, only to be attacked by bugs, lots of bugs.
Lighting in the distance, the smell of rain, and the wind picks up; I have not experienced this in a long time. Camera reading for pictures, the rain never came.
66.5 mpg/ 369.8 miles traveled

“Riding the Spine of the Gila”

“Riding the Spine of the Gila”
Let’s say Silver City is the tail of the Gila, take SR 15 N, 44 miles, blacktop road, one lane each way to Pinos Alto, after that it's blacktop wide enough for a car and a-half.
You can see the back of the car on numerous curves, you try to peek around each bend for others, you are climbing, switching back & forth, no guard rails. Great Ride!
Jct of SR 15 & 35, you climb again, with great views of the Gila Wilderness area. This is the first designated wilderness in the country. At one point you can see a lush green spot, deep down in the valley. Eden! The Gila River runs 365 days a years, the birthplace of Geronimo.
My plan was to go to the Gila Cliff Dwellings. The earliest ruin is a pit house from about AD 100 to 400, people of this period referred to as Mogollon, grow corn and beans, hunted, gathered wild plants for food. They made plain brown pottery. But most of the Cliff dwellings date back to the late 1200’s. “Cliff Dwellers” refers to Pueblo people who built homes in natural caves. Excellent examples of early homes and lives of Indian culture here.
As I'am about to leave, the Park volunteer, our guide for the ruins, told me about the local Hot Springs, it’s on the map, but I had no local knowledge and I was unsure of my plans for the night. Driving up here with a ¼ tank of gas, 1 beer, not really prepared to be lost.
So I go to the Wilderness Lodge, run by Dean & Jane Bruemmerand, and their 3 sons Joe, Max and Ike. This 100 year lodge it was originally a school house in Hurley, NM. In the 60’s a man named Coy Rasberry single handily dismantled and moved it to Gila Hot Springs. It’s now a rustic bed & breakfast with two stone lined soaking pools. I have been on the road for almost a month, I am staying, the first night I was all alone, reading, soaking and drinking my 1 beer.
The second day, did I say I was staying 2 days now, 6 others arrived, we talked and soaked, it was good to have some prolonged human interaction!
Dean & I, the owner talked a lot, he is also an excellent cook & his son Ike will be someday as well, Dean is a good man, he & Jane home school their kids. They live in a house in the back. They leave the guests alone, totally. Perfect host.
Close to here, is a campground $4 a night with artistic found artwork and hot springs on the riverbank. The locals come up here, soak, play music and get away from life.
Paradise found, Eden!
May 19 & 20, riding the Gila!
54.0 mpg/ 141.1 miles traveled

Celebration Songwriters- Kerrville Folk Festival

Celebrating Songwriters
In The Hill Country Of Texas

“Give yourself to love, if love is what you’re after. Open up your heart, to tears and laughter. Give yourself to love. Give yourself to love.”

The simple, poignant chorus of singer-songwriter Kate Wolf’s song plays over and over in my memory as I return from my annual pilgrimage to the Kerrville Folk Festival where 30,000 guests gather to celebrate the craftsmanship and magic of all genres of songwriting every May and June. And I smile as I think of the remarkable new songs I have heard in the last few days from unknown songwriters around all-night campfires and during the afternoon songwriter competition concerts. Ahhhh – fresh perspectives and multi-cultural expressions of life, love, joy, sorrow, disappointment, humor, and the socio-political events that color our lives – eloquently imbedded in our hearts by a song.

Run annually since 1972, the internationally respected Kerrville Folk Festival is the longest continuously running music festival of its kind in North America, held on the Quiet Valley Ranch, just 9 miles south of the resort town of Kerrville in the heart of the glorious Texas Hill Country. Evening main stage performances of recognized singer-songwriters anchor an 18-day schedule of special daytime concerts, songwriting schools, music business seminars, instrument technique workshops, professional development courses for teachers (earning CEC’s), activities for children, organized bicycle rides and canoe trips, camping, and most importantly, the New Folk Competition showcasing the original songwriting talents of 32 finalists.

The six 2007 winners are Danny Schmidt (Austin, Texas), Storyhill (Bozeman, Montana), Carla Gover (Richmond, Kentucky), David Llewellyn (Nashville, Tennessee), John Wort Hannam (Fort Macleod, Alberta, Canada), and Anthony da Costa (Pleasantville, New York).

Chartered in 1975, the non-profit Kerrville Music Foundation created fair guidelines and rules for submitting songs for the annual competition. Approximately 800 entries from many countries begin arriving in December of each year and go through a screening process targeting songwriting excellence. By spring, 32 finalists are selected and invited to present two songs live on stage during the festival to three paid, qualified touring and recording artist judges. Audiences enthusiastically roar in delight during the 2-day, 16 finalists a day presentation of fresh song offerings by these emerging talents. The six winners receive a cash honorarium from the Texas Music Foundation, reimbursement for travel expenses, complimentary admission to the festival, various other professional prizes provided by sponsors, and the title of New Folk Award Winner – one that is truly meaningful professionally worldwide. In the 36 years of the festival, many New Folk winning songwriters have evolved into acclaimed careers in music from the experience of sharing their songs with peers, seasoned recording artists, and music industry professionals who are there to perform, listen and encourage!

For many, the word “folk” implies “old timey, old fogy” music – a big misconception in my opinion. A more contemporary definition refers to performers who write, compose, and sing their own material including lyrics and melodies, often providing sole acoustic accompaniment to an entire song composition. If you embrace this simplified definition, then every song begins as the bare bones of cultural expression before it is layered with the muscle of other instruments and flesh of vocal accompaniment. And the long life of a single song resonates in the spirituality of our souls identifying with the message – the mission of every singer-songwriter.

Folk music is an integral part of community centered cultures – the music of the common people with deep roots in its own culture. All countries have developed singer-songwriter traditions blending folk and popular genres such as nueva cancion in Andean countries like Chile, Peru, Argentina and Bolivia. In Spain and Portugal it’s nova canco and nova cancao, in Cuba a genre known as nueva trova. In Mexico, cancion yucateca on the Yucatan Peninsula and trova serrana in the Sierra Norte of Oaxaca are both regional adaptations of trova, canto popular in Uraguay, and cantautori in Italy. And in North America, we just call our oral tradition “folk”.

Is there a singer-songwriter in your life? Lucky you! Your artist can look in their own backyard of Texas to learn more about how to craft their songs, hone their skills, and be nurtured by the best of the bests songwriters. Find competition guidelines and submission requirements on the KFF website (www.kerrville-music.com/newfolk or www.kerrvillefolkfestival.com).

The 16th Annual Kerrville Wine & Music Festival, August 31 through September 2, Labor Day Weekend, is a great way to get the “lay of the land” for next year. While plenty of hotels are available locally, camping gives you an opportunity to informally share your songs with master craftsmen and amateurs alike around campfires during all hours of the day and night – campfires are the heart and soul of every festival!

I could pepper this article with names of performers and New Folk Winners you will recognize and many you will not, but I’d rather suggest you discover who’s who on the festival website and to encourage you to experience a gathering of creativity on a large, inspiring scale by attending a festival!

As the faces of songwriters and the melodies of their songs dance in my thoughts while my fingers tap across the keyboard, I’ll share with you with another chorus to yet another powerful song which I heard for the first time at the festival many years ago (before it became popular and recorded by many mainstream artists):

“From a distance, there is harmony. And it echoes through the land.
It’s the song of hope. It’s the song of peace. It’s the song of every man”


Reneé Shearer