Here are several videos from the last year.... ENJOY!

Well, here is our first blog...
The three week leg of summer tour has ended. The band is back. Alive, and... well, alive nonetheless. The new tour van clocked in at just under 5,000 miles. Over $1,500 was spent on gas alone, and probably a lot more than that in the long run on the immune systems!
Needless to say there were a lot of good times had. From spending the night in one of the bars, to fording rivers with the new tour van, to raging birthdays in Vegas, there was never a dull moment to be had... minus driving on endless I-80.

One incident, however, stands out beyond them all. Tuesday, July 17. The band has one of the very few days off and drive through Crested Butte, Colorado to see an old friend. While stopping to get lunch I see if we could pull off playing at one of the clubs in town. I go to the happening spot and see if we can play. Well, no. Oh, well. Just hang out have a good time. We go to our friends softball game, and meet her friend who is convinced he will find us a gig for the night. Low and behold, after the Cubs won, he calls and informs us to come the local dive and they will let us play. We figure, "Why not?"

We show up and play what turns out to be one of the better shows of the whole tour. People were dancing and drinking, an old man insisted he sit in on trumpet, and a general great time seemed to be had by all. In the process we realize we don't have a place to stay for the night. What to do? Enter friend who got us the gig. He is on a mission to find us a place...

He introduces me to a older guy who really likes the band and says we can stay with him. I made sure it was cool and he said he would stay until we were done.... We finish the gig, I look around, and he was nowhere to be seen! I inquire and our buddy informs us that he left since somebody told him we had found a place to stay. Well, yes, HIS PLACE. He did not know that they were talking about the fact it was indeed his place that we were staying. So here we are, 2am, no place to stay. Hmmm. What now. Drive to Gunnison? No, none of us were in any shape. Find another place? No, everybody had split. Well, the bartender tells us that it wouldn't be a problem just going over there and crashing. He calls him and tells him to expect us and the guy explains where to go.
"Across the street from the church, go in the back door and make yourself at home in the basement. There will be somebody else already sleeping down there, too, so don't worry about it."

Our friend who got us the gig acts as our navigator and takes us to a house across the street from the church. We go to the back and enter the basement. It was unlocked and there was somebody sleeping in one of the rooms. Perfect. We shut the door to the room and set up shop, moving furniture, going to the bathroom, getting water, etc. I see our friend get on the phone and call somebody. He had a look that I couldn't place as he talked to the bartender on the other line. He slowly shuts the phone, looks up with a shocked face and urgently whispers, "WE'RE IN THE WRONG HOUSE!!!"
Panic. We all grab our things in a frenzied rush to the door. No time to rearrange furniture, no time to double check if we left stuff, just GET OUT NOW! We stumble over each other in fear and hilarity, one of the friends cutting open her ankle when she fell. We get to the street and finally locate the actual house we are supposed to stay. The guy was up and helped to make us calm down. Finally when we catch our breath we tell him the story. After hearing the house we were in he stops us suddenly and and says, "YOU GUYS JUST CRASHED THE MAYOR'S HOUSE!"

Only on tour....