Canadian Club, Part Three.

    Sunday morning, bright and early, breakfast at the hotel, then on the road we go. All together, we number nine. There’s me, Terri and Suze; the “Sisters”, Ronnie on drums, Robert on tenor, Mike Tooley on trombone, and Jay Thomas on – get this – alto sax and trumpet. Rounding out the caravan are Mike and Jay’s wives. All together, four vehicles, three GPS units, four horns for three horn players, and a couple of fishing poles thrown in just for good measure. Quite the caravan.

    Saying “we made our way across the Trans Canada Highway” sounds pretty straight forward. “Trans Canada Highway” would seem to imply a big, multi-lane ribbon of concrete hewn from the very rocks of the mountains themselves, but any quick glance at a map will show a long, winding road through beautiful mountains and forest. A little Northeast, a little Southeast, repeat for a couple hundred miles, jump on Highway 97, and head South for Lake Osoyoos and the U.S. – Canadian border.

    One last border crossing, this time from Canada back to the States. Pretty much just a ‘drive through’. The officer, who was wearing shorts (‘Casual Sunday’ for border guards?), did ask us if any of us had ever been arrested. Umm, yeah. Why? Are you going to deny us entrance to our home country because of some dusty offences? Why ask when you’ve got our entire records there on the screen in front of you?

    Not that we asked. Border Guards are chosen, and famous for being unencumbered by a sense of humor. So it’s best to smile, be polite, answer all the questions, and take nothing personally.

    The Rendezvous R&B Festival is held in a huge Apple Orchard right on the shore of Lake Osoyoos. It’s not a giant festival, but it’s been going on for a while. People camp in the orchard for the whole weekend, and come out to listen to music, dance, and party. We were right in the middle of Sunday’s bill, third of five bands. We caught the end of Alice Stuart’s solo set, and watched the Stacey Jones Band. Unfortunately, we also watched some huge, dark clouds rolling towards the lake, and just as the band was finishing their set, the skies opened up and it started Raining with a capital R. The stage was getting soaked, the canopy over the stage was filling with water, and then the lightening started. We had no choice but to abandon the stage and run for cover. It rained, thundered and lightening-ed solid for about a half an hour, while we huddled under a tarp between a couple of motor homes with some festival attendees.

    After the deluge, we convened on the stage to figure out a course of action. The stage had to be swept of water, one corner of the overhead canopy was lowered and the huge puddle was drained off, and there looked like there might be a chance to actually play. The problem was that weather reports showed a bigger storm rolling in behind the one we had. But this is, after all, the Pacific Northwest, and the locals are pretty used to a little rain.

    So, the show must go on! We’d play until we got rained out. So after another hectic half hour set up, we finally hit the stage. It was fun to watch the people come wandering out of the orchard as we started making noise, and by the time we started really playing the field was getting filled up again. Or scheduled two hour set became a one hour set, but like I figured, third day of our three day tour, the band was really tight, and absolutely on. The crowd was digging it, and we were too. The weather must have liked us too, because that second storm never did come in.

    I’m really glad we got to play on Sunday, because otherwise it would have been a very anti-climactic end to the weekend. It would have felt like unfinished business. Plus, the show was so much fun, everyone smiling and having a good time on stage and out front. A Love-Fest, really. Even the ducks came out of the lake and ambled up to the Hamburger shack to see what all the hub-bub was about.

    After our set, we hung around and watched Cee Cee James channel her (and our) inner Janis, and saw Becky Sue and Her Big Rockin’ Daddies! Bring the curtain down on the 9th Annual Rendezvous Festival. The Seattle blues scene, at least what I saw of it from the inside, is large, supportive of each other, and very healthy. I’m sure someone’s writing bad stuff about the scene on Craig’s list somewhere, but the people I met were too busy hanging out together to mind.

    Because the local motel, as the promoter put, looked too much like a Meth Lab, we had to make our way down the road to…wait, I have to look this up to spell it right…Tonasket, and the Apple Barrel Inn. Now, there’s probably 147 “Apple Barrel” motels of one kind or another in Washington, but ours took a great deal of abuse from our entourage. I would just like to point out that while we just slept and left, the room did have a small fridge and a microwave, working TV, and, umm, ‘Vintage’ furnishings. It also had one of the best Motel showers I’ve ever come across; lots of pressure and a shower head that wasn’t pointed at my chest. As for the room’s artwork – a ‘Cowboy” scene painted directly on the cinder-block wall, I found it a little more thoughtful than the standard “Art Sale” fare you become accustomed to. Not that I’d have the same on my wall at home, mind you, but I thought it displayed a certain sense of Western individuality. That’s my story, and I’m stickin’ to it.

    Monday started with a display of Tonasket hospitality. I wandered down the street to the supermarket for a cup of coffee, and the girl at the bakery counter couldn’t have been nicer, showing me how to use a coffee machine (Duh!), and then when I went to the check out to pay, the lady there said “Is all you have the coffee? Oh, well, it’s free today. Some days, it’s just free.” Free coffee? I love this place! The breakfast joint was equally as friendly, and made for a great start to a lazy day of making our way back to Seattle.

    The trip involved a stop at a Wal*Mart Supercenter, that I believe had its own subway system, it was so big. Suze and Terri got Fishing Licenses, and geared up for some angling, so the drive was broken up by “Does this look like a good spot”, and breaks for throwing things in the water, as 97 follows the river. We stopped for coffee in the hilarious town of Leavenworth, where their so into the whole “Bavarian Village” thing, that there’s a city ordinance that all businesses must use the same type face. So you have Bank of America, Chase bank, and even Starbucks displayed in a goofy, fairy tale, “Swiss Miss” font.

    Tuesday morning, and I was back at SeaTac for the flight home. Glad to be going home, but sad to be leaving. There’s talk of some Red Hot Blues Sisters road work in the future, and I’ve already let them now I’m down for it! I’ll be appearing with them on October 10th in Grants Pass, Oregon, and looking forward to it.

    Today, it’s time to pack. Cindy and I leave for New Orleans in the morning. A week of recalibrating our internal clocks to Southern rhythms. After we booked the trip, I checked on some of my friends schedules, and it just so happens that “Sweet Jones” could use a bassist for this Saturday, the 19th, show at Checkpoint Charlie’s on Esplanade. See you there at 11PM! If you can’t make it, I’ll tell you all about it.