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Show stories – The Road Trip Weekend

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Last week was my first edition of “Show stories” and after careful consideration, I’ve decided to make this a weekly contribution to my blog.  Landing either Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on how things fall for me.

This week, I bring you a tale from long before my husband and I were even dating. We’d been friends for years before we made that step, so I have many stories pre-relationship.

September 2003 -- Four friends go on a road trip weekend

So my tale today comes from 2003, when four friends set out on a weekend of fun and live music.

Oh how I stressed prior to this trip. I felt like our lives were in my hands, so I planned and planned. I had a full itinerary printed out with maps and times and phone numbers. Pre-GPS days, MapQuest was a savior (not to mention my Texas Road Atlas!)

I was our road manager for the weekend. And bus driver.

My three best girlfriends (all of whom would later be my bridesmaids) and I jumped in my truck and we took off on a weekend trip that took us to Brownwood, TX then up to Sulphur Springs, TX. Round trip for the weekend was around 650 miles.

We took off out of my hometown on an adventure that I still consider one of my favorite memories of all time. We laughed until our sides hurt at times. We have in-jokes that came out of that trip that still make us laugh to this day.

My friends got to experience what I still call, “Waitin’ on Craig” at shows. I’ve learned over the years that the musician’s life on the road is filled with, “Hurry, hurry, hurry! Okay now wait around for awhile. Now hurry, hurry, hurry!” And that’s something I experienced years in advance without even realizing it. We would get to hang out for awhile, only to have him disappear for long periods of time.

We did get the royal treatment with All Access passes all weekend. Our second show was actually sold out, and we spent it watching from side-stage. We were able to park behind security at both shows, and both netted us some good food.

The first show was a fair, and our host for the night (my now-husband) treated us to a deep-friend s’mores. Yes it was a gooey mess, but as I recall its still one of the most amazing things I’ve ever put in my mouth. I kind of want one right now, actually.

Dunking my class ring... topping off the road trip weekend!

The second show, we all got to take some of the band’s catering back to the hotel with us. A steak dinner that was also amazing. (We spent a long time looking for a six-pack of beer on our way back to our Dallas-hotel, only to learn how much at that area of Texas is dry. My friend who is today an Assistant District Attorney even asked a pair of cops how far we had to drive to get a beer. Insert hysterical laughter here, as well as the realization that it just wasn’t worth it to keep looking.)

I remember in-between shows was a 2 hour drive from Brownwood to Dallas, in which I did successfully miss my exit. Thankfully my co-pilot knows how to read a map and she got us back on track using that handy-dandy Texas Atlas I used to carry with me at all times.  I had hoped to follow the bus to avoid such an issue, but when I realized that waiting for them would probably mean not getting to our hotel until around 6 AM, I decided we’d chance it on our own. We were big girls, and we made it just fine.

A highlight of that weekend was dunking my class ring. I’d gotten it about a month before, but I had yet to participate in the Texas A&M tradition of ring-dunk. I did so the night of the second show. In a blue Dixie cup. Because I am high class like that.

By the way, both shows were great. But the things I remember most are the events surrounding those shows. A fun weekend with the girls, and getting to see my musician friend… getting to have a little taste of the traveling musician’s life.

Two shows. Two nights. 650 miles. Precious, precious memories.

road-stories

Show-stories…

This blog is called “Musician’s Widow” but I rarely talk about music or “the life” much. I generally save those posts for Road Widows. But, I figured perhaps it’s time I consciously try to start sharing a story here and there.

I get asked occasionally if I ever go out on the road with my husband. My answer is always, “Not really.” On a general basis, I don’t, but I have had a few cool adventures that you could say occurred on the road with my husband.

The one I’ll share today happened just before my husband and I got married. Most people don’t know that my husband and I were actually “long-distance” up to about three months before our wedding. Yes, folks, we are proof that long-distance relationships CAN work.

Moving day

We got married in January, and we moved me up to Music City the October before the wedding. My then-fiance flew down from Nashville, loaded all my things in a U-Haul trailer, hooked it up the back of my truck, and we moved me to Nashville.

Three days later, he had a show in Houston, TX, and I had responsibilities I still needed to attend to in Texas. So, I “caught a ride” on the bus down. My parents would pick me up at the show and bring me back home with them.

I’ll be honest, I don’t remember that much about hanging out on the bus before going to bed for the night. Somehow, my now-husband and I found a way for both of us to fit in his bunk. Keep in mind, a bunk of a bus is not much bigger than your average coffin. That is, if coffins came with air conditioning, electrical outlets and a flip-down TV. So, needless to say, it was a tight fit, but we made it work.

The next morning, I dreamed I was climbing a long, steep staircase. I just kept climbing and climbing and climbing until suddenly I woke up. Only to realize I really WAS climbing.

It was so bizarre. I was laying down, and yet I could tell that my feet were higher than my head in relation to what would be considered level. It panicked me briefly! I had to get up and out of the little confined space!

It took some maneuvering, but I was able to get up and let my now-husband sleep. I padded to the front of the bus in my PJs and bedhead (you get to know your co-bus-riders better than you really probably ever wanted to in cases like this) and poked my head out to see where we were.

View from the bus while riding back to Nashville

We were on a little two-lane farm-to-market road, going uphill! I remember thinking, “Uhhh… this doesn’t look right.”

Come to find out, we had indeed made a wrong turn, and we were far off course. You know you’re in Texas when the bus driver has to stop a guy on a tractor to ask for directions!! I’m sure everyone on that little road had a story to tell that day, watching us try to get out of nowhere-Texas!

Needless to say, we did finally find our way to the venue, and all was well. I ended up going over a day without a shower, but the show was great and it did leave me with quite the memory of climbing uphill feet-first! It gave me a taste of what it is like to sleep in a bunk on the bus, too. Which is definitely something you have to experience to appreciate.

It just so happened to work out that my husband had a gig in Dallas, TX a couple weeks later. So, I caught a ride back to Nashville after that show. My husband works as a co-driver on long runs, and it was the first time I got to experience his bus driving. It was fun to sit in the jump seat and watch the world pass from a tour bus. Not to mention watch cars slow down in hopes of seeing “a star.” Too bad all they saw was me and my bedhead again.

Good times and fun memories… more stories from the road to come.