High Sierra Music Festival, 2004

Arriving at the High Sierra Music Festival in Quincy, California, was the ultimate contrast. Since leaving Colorado, we had not seen any friends. In fact, there were long stretches when we didn't see any humans. As we meandered toward High Sierra across Route 50--The Loneliest Road in America-- we drove across a flat desert, with only an occasional dust devil to keep us company for several hundred miles. And when we finally hit Quincy, it was as if we'd traveled across time and space to a different universe.

In stark contrast to the solitude of the open road, High Sierra greeted us with crowds--and a slew of friends. Jordan had bought a new tent and set it up for us, in a circle of about seven or eight tents. After waiting in line for the festival throughout the night, he and his friends acquired the best real estate on the land; my amazing brother set up his older, smaller tent for himself, providing the honeymoon suite for his ol' bro and his new sister. Under the cover of mammoth California trees--also a new sight for us--we had the ideal setting for one of the most stupendous weekends of our lives--musically and otherwise.

Two of my all-time favorite musicians were present at the festival. In fact, the two men, right and left, represent two musical obsessions, past and present, respectively.

At left, Dan Bern croons, creating a set of songs that absolutely blew me away: The 7/3/04 Vaudeville show is now one of my favorite sets of music.

And at right, Chris Robinson gets back to his rock 'n roll roots with his new band, Chris Robinson and the New Earth Mud.

As part of the continued wedding present and good weekend vibes, Jordan bought Beth and I pool passes at the nearby community center. With our passes we just strolled into the Olympic-sized pool for a refresher each afternoon. A few dives off the diving board, and I was a new man, ready for a long evening of grooving. And with live music from 11 a.m. until about 5 a.m., I needed the break and chance to soak for a few minutes. Showers after the pool meant that I was clean for each day of the fest; if that isn't luxury, I don't know what is.

Back to the music . . .

I got my first taste of an amazing young woman named Kaki King. The resounding echoes she created, by herself, stirred something deep and I found myself incredibly moved.

Under a shining sun with a simple guitar that seemed enormous on her small frame, Kaki King impressed the hell out of me.

I even took a small video of her set, so I could remember the unique style with which she played so magnificently.

And here it is.

High Sierra 2004 also introduced me to the wonder that is known as Xavier Rudd. The barefooted Australian import blew me away with his one-man show, combining acoustic guitar, didgeridoo, thought-provoking lyrics, and an unparalleled energy. Xavier shocked my system, given that an artist who I had never seen before, never listened to, never even heard of before, could make such an immediate impact in a 55-minute set. I bought the set on CD a few hours after the performance, and the vibe holds up upon repeated listens.

The sun will shine on my backdoor, someday...

At left, the New Earth Mud Band plays under a setting sun.

Keyboardist Rob Barraco's dead-influence to the band was a welcomed addition, as he was clearly responsible for tunes like "I Know You Rider."

Nightfall came, and major acts like STS9, moe., Galactic, Particle, and the Radiators took center stage.

Making the weekend what it was, Jordan's friends kept up the spirit all day--and all night--long. Below left, Tina and J.P. share a morning grin after a long, late night (at least for JP). At right, Bethy hugs J.P.'s younger brother Chad. The two Harries brothers, both seasoned High Sierra veterans, were a constant source of entertainment and positivity; in fact, JP was a guide for both Beth and myself as we entered a parallel universe to which moe. played the soundtrack.

Jordan, no High Sierra rookie, also played amazing host to us amateurs. Below left, his new sister looks on smiling, while a random dude advertises one of the best Phish tunes (and a theme to the honeymoon). Below right, Sean Reynolds and his wife, child, brother, and nieces demonstrate the family-friendliness of the festival. High Sierra was the first music festival I'd been to where I'd someday consider bringing my own. Little did I know that I'd be seeing Sean again in his corner of the country a few weeks later, at the end of the 'moon.

Running into Gabe, Jordan's roommate from law school in Boulder, provided a flashback; I had not seen him since my last time in Colorado.

And seeing the whole family, as shown at right, was reminiscent of Shoreline '00, when the clan gathered on the lawn for an eerily similar photo.

Some fantastic photographs peppered on a bus above. Make sure to read the hypothetical question posed in the left-hand bottom corer. I've often wondered the same thing. The owner of the bus, Barbara, mistook me for a different traveler, asked someone to lick some spilled THC liquid off her leg, and then sold me some random candies. I went off on my way, saving the candies for Yosemite.

And me, well, yeah, I had a good time. Above, I smile with my buddy Doug, not knowing where the night ahead of us will lead. But as we practiced putting disc golf at a nearby tee under a red wine sun, the familiar taste of chocolate on my lips and the wondrous music emanating from all corners of the campground, I knew it was all good. It was High Sierra.