Drive day, which isn't exactly a day off.
Woke early enough to make use of the complimentary breakfast at the Q Hotel.
Yay free food, but at a time of day when it's hard for me to eat. Forwent the cooks at the egg bar and ate light, cereal with yogurt and an English muffin. More watered down tasted-like-they-reused-old-coffee-grounds coffee. Pen ran out when writing in my journal. Will need to procure another without spending money on more pens.
Adios KC, see you around!
Longish drive to Wisconsin, but not nearly as long as Austin to KC. And not nearly as hot. Uneventful drive, picked up lead guitarist Matt Brooks at a truck stop somewhere in Iowa north of Des Moines, where he currently resides (Iowa, not the truck stop).
He was in Austin for a long time, has been a member of Two Hoots and a Holler and Bastard Sons of Johnny Cash, among many many others. Has played with Rick Hornyak quite a bit in the past. Is also still getting his hand strength back after double-carpal tunnel surgery a year and a half ago. Great guy and a hell of a player.
Drive was uneventful as previously mentioned, full of conversation and catching up between Matt and Rick, and descriptions and tales of the people we would soon be meeting, like the infamous and benevolent Marv. Whom y'all will soon get to meet as well, heh.
I gotta say I've missed driving across the country and watching the scenery change. Better than any television show. Yeah, I had my face to my iPhone playing Bards's Tale quite a bit, heh. But I'd take frequent breaks to let my eyes rest and to take in the sights.
Somewhere in Minnesota.
Closing in on Wisconsin.
Crossing the Mississippi River into Wisconsin
Arrived after sundown in Wisconsin Rapids, smack dab in the middle of the state bearing its name. Eric and I staying in a house owned by some friends of Rick, who often let musicians stay and has let Rick do so many times in the past. People like that are awesome, and we (humanity in general as well as musicians as a collective) need as many of them as possible. Couch surfing is probably the only sure fire way to make touring as a musician financially viable, to a point.
But staying in other peoples' houses can be weird, especially when they are away on vacation and we have the place to ourselves. Note on the counter to make ourselves at home and eat anything we want. But the first hour or so here was spent mainly standing around blinking, not sure really what to do. They said we can eat anything, and we are hungry, but we felt bad still going through their cupboards and fridge, heh.
Finally whipped us up some bacon and farm fresh eggs, after much rummaging for cooking utensils, looking for the proper light switches and trying to light the gas stove burners without benefit of a pilot light. (Still have my eyebrows and the hair on my arms, heh).
Their two cats loved us immediately. I had an upstairs bedroom, Eric on a couch downstairs. We went to bed early. Rock n Roll...
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