Tour Diary: We’re Not Done Yet Thanks To You
It was so hot in Bismarck, ND, on that day. When you think North Dakota, you don’t think super hot summers. Our van, our trusted van, that had gotten through the Rockies, the Appalachians, and several other mountain passes throughout North America, was finally dying. We were told by a few people that it wouldn’t make it out of ND state. We couldn’t rent a one way rental car in the ENTIRE STATE OF NORTH DAKOTA! AAA couldn’t come pick us up as there were no available tow companies where we were located. The Amtrak was the most affordable form of transportation home but we couldn’t take everything with us. We shipped some of Cyndy’s gear and planned to leave and sell my amp and our awesome PA system for money. Trying to pack all of our other chords, pedal boards etc, into some Goodwill suitcases we bought in the blistering sun was a bitch. But I still had hope. Cyndy did not share that same sentiment. I guess 2 van breakdowns in the span of a year proved to be too much. When we left home on this run in April, we thought we’d have our new record out. And when that didn’t happen, we thought we’d at least be able to make it back to Oakland to tune up the van for another run. But now, it looked like that wouldn’t happen either. She started yelling, I didn’t want to fight in the Goodwill parking lot, so I just walked away. I figured we each needed to take some time to calm down so we could tackle this getting-home challenge, together. When I returned, she just stared at me blankly. I knew she was done, but I just had to hear her say it. She said she couldn’t do it anymore, and posted on social media that she was done. I had just given away our road cases and I knew the one thing that I thought we both loved to do, was over. We had to wait for a friend to come take us to his house, before he could drop us off at the train station some, 119 miles away in Minot, ND. This was the quietest, longest wait of my life…
An amazing Native American family took care of us while were there. Letting us shower, and agreeing to let us store our gear until it sold, and even volunteering to try to fix our van. They tried to assure us that everything would be alright, and we just needed a little time to process what happened and we’d be all good. I was angry. Posts started coming in on our Facebook page, but I wouldn’t read it. Friends from San Francisco, Don and Tara, even started a GoFundMe page, but we were certain no one would care. We both looked at like it was the end of everything. If there was to be no band, there would not be an US.
The train ride started as rocky as the Goodwill parking lot. We had finally agreed that we’d try and enjoy the ride and keep our cellphones off until we arrived in Oakland. We lasted about a day. I stared to read the comments some of you left. I was floored. I can’t lie, I cried. It’s still hard for me to look at. I don’t take compliments all that well, so please excuse me if I’m a bit speechless. Then there was the GoFundMe page. Again, we didn’t think it would raise much money, if at all. We weren’t thinking very highly of ourselves at the time. Because of you guys, we were able to not sell our gear. We can continue on this music journey. I don’t know if you understand how powerful it is to have people like you, believe in us. That being said, we’re not going to stop. The new record is still coming out, and a tour will eventually follow. We are working every little job we can possibly find so we can go back out on the road and repay you guys with rejuvenated energy and tight, likely tear-filled hugs.
July 24th, we will be playing with legendary, genre bending band Mordred and Ghost Next Door at Bottom of the Hill in SF, CA. We’d love if you live in the are if you could come out, we can also celebrate Chicky’s birthday!!!