DMP and I hit the road at 8 AM Friday, after one stop to buy folding “pickin’ stools” at the Big R. No one at the sporting goods store calls them “pickin stools”, of course, because they’re for perching upon while hunting, I think; they have camouflage seats.
The Bluegrass camp brochure suggested we have them for jamming. You know, because we are such fine musicians. And jamming is what we do. Because we are so cool.
Speaking of cool, here’s DMP posing next to a Harley on a ferry in British Columbia. Note: I cannot tell you where we are or what body of water we are crossing. The GPS system guided us north to Revelstoke (more about that later) and we simply followed the pink line on the Garmin.
Next time we will have a map.
We stopped at the Duty Free store before crossing the border and bought our “one bottle per person” booze (more about that later).
Here’s a photo to make Banjo Man nervous. I cannot believe I drove our new-to-us car onto a packed ferry. The ferry parking man kept yelling “Pivot!!!”
I still don’t know what he meant by that.
About 8 hours of driving through mountains and past lakes, rivers and forests brought us here:
Revelstoke, BC is a cool little town. They have an Avalanche Center. And a billion miles of mountain bike trails.
We ate in a pub with chairs made out of skis.
I forgot my camera.
The main street was blocked off for a nightly live music performance, so we listened to the band and watched toddlers dance until it grew too cold.
We left our pickin’ stools in the car, but DMP practiced her mandolin before she went to bed. That’s what musicians do.
We’re revving up for camp. We really hope we’re not too old for this.
is there any more pie? 