It started out simple enough. We were headed for the lake to play another weekend at Big Daddy's. While driving East I-70 to 65 south headed toward Sedalia, it started raining. The rain was so heavy that I could hardly see out the windshield, and then it cleared. Off to the west right off the highway was what appeared, at first, to be a very low cloud. Upon closer examination, the cloud was a giant black wall with rotation. IT WAS A BIG FRIGGIN' TORNADO!!!!!

I opened my phone to see if Dom and Paul were behind me and about to drive into this huge blob of black death. Fortunately, they were a few miles ahead of me, and had already passed the area. So we stopped at Taco Bell and grabbed some dinner. Someone had placed packets of sauce under the toilet seat so they popped and squirted you when you sat down. This was irritating, but a great idea none the less. I can't believe I hadn't thought of that one when I was a shithead teenager.

Both nights at Big Daddy's were great shows with tons of people who really enjoyed our playing. There was a bit of an issue with fights the second night....but they waited until we were done playing and the bar was closing to start acting like idiots. Nothing much more entertaining than a brawl in a gravel parking lot at 1:30 during a Tsunami.

Saturday night, Paul, being the one who drank little enough to operate the motor vehicle "volunteered" to drive back to the cabin after the show. Todd unknowingly doomed us by wishing us a safe trip and saying: "Well...if I don't see you again, it's been nice working with you" as an ironic farewell. I should've knocked on wood. Since the rain was so heavy from the passing remnants of Hurricane Ike, we had debated taking an alternate route back to the Lake of The Ozarks to avoid the zig-zagging , hilly road known as D hwy. For some reason, we took the regular route. Barely able to see, we proceeded north on D, and we saw the sign that read: "Impassable During High Water" just before we drove into the river that was crossing the road. The Toyota hydroplaned to thr right and dropped, nose-first off of the side of the road into the swollen creek. Fortunately, we stopped there. Had we slid another foot, we would have been riding the rapids downstream in a 2003 toyota matrix with ten thousand dollars worth of guitars in the hatch.

Dom stepped out of the back seat and walked around the car to see if it could be pushed back onto the road, and was immediately swept off his feet by the rushing current. he grabbed the front of the car and pulled himself back to a standing position. At this time, water began to fill the passenger side floorboard. I had emptied my pockets in preparation to get out into the water and lift the car bacl onto the road. Figuring this plan of action as impossible, we decided to call a tow truck. I grabbed my phone and wallet, and accidentally knocked our new camera into the water that had gathered in the floorboard. Dom had no bars, so he had left his phone at the cabin. Paul's battery was dead, so he had left his phone at the cabin. I pulled out my phone, and it was turned off. It had just enough battery power to boot up and finds a signal......then it died. The battery was drained. We had no phone.

Unaware that we were only a quarter of a mile from the next town, we began our hike back toward Nemo....5 miles the other way. Dom was soaked from his swim in the creek,  Paul and I were soaked from the knees down from walking through the high water on the road, and getting wet from the rain. Soaking wet, 60 degrees, in the dark, with a 40 mile per hour wind in your face makes for a pretty chilly hike.

Knowing we had over an hour of a hike ahead of us, we spotted a light up a gravel driveway and decided to find a phone at the local farmhouse. The cows bunched up by the fence watched as we made our way up the highway. They seemed to giggle at us. I  was waiting for the dogs to come chew us apart as I thought aloud: "Please, Mr. Farmer Guy, don't shoot us." No dogs came. No shotgun greeted us. In fact, the fella that answered our 3am knocking was very nice and allowed us access to a phone.
 
Paul had an unsuccessful conversation with various operators at AAA in an attempt to use his roadside assistance insurance.  Fortunately, our host knew of the  local tow truck guy, and called him for us. 30 minutes later, as hypothermia began to take it's toll on Dom, the tow truck arrived. The three of us piled into the front of the tow truck as Dom mention through chattering teeth that he would rather have a female in the band at this point.

The headlights of the truck shone upon the back of Dom's car, which had tilted further into the rushing waters. For some reason, the tow guy banished us from the warmth of his cab, back into the cold rain and wind as he hooked up to the rear axle of the Dom-mobile and pulled it out of the river. The front bumper was hanging loose, but the car appeared drivable.

Our tow guy pulled the car out of the high water area, and laid underneath to remove the tow straps.   Paul and I noticed headlights approaching from the north at a high rate of speed and began shouting and waving for them to slow down.  My thought was that they would suffer the same fate and wind up nose-diving into the creek.  Fortunately, they would have a tow truck right there.  Just as that  bit was crossing my mind, I was dragged back to the outer world by shouts of pain:  "OWWW!!! MOTHERFUCKER!!! THAT FUCKIN' HURT!!!". The passing truck had run over the foot of the tow truck driver that was under Dom's car.

Other than some squashed toes, he was unharmed. We pulled up the road, to a gas station, paid the tow guy  and drove home singing improvised songs about hydroplaning.

It was nearly 5am by the time we got back to the cabin, dried off, changed clothes and laid down to give getting some sleep a shot. Paul was up by 8am, had the car opened up to air out and dry, and was ready to head back to KC. By the time I got up and around to fix breakfast, They had already left.

It was beautiful Sunday at the lake. The sun was shining. The Chiefs game was on TV. I had catfish to clean. Dom called and told me that the bumper snapped back into place and there was no damage to the car. It seems the only actual casualty of the incident was the camera.  One last swim. A thorough  cleaning of the cabin.  Another summer gone.  I hate the last trip of the year to my little slice of heaven on the lake. It's kinda depressing.  7 months until lake season starts up again.

Oh....we'll be back at Big Daddy's for Halloween, but it's just not the same as a  warm, sunny day on the boat with a cold beer and a good cigar.

I'll get over it. I always do. The week ahead of sunny skies will recharge my batteries, and I'll be ready to rock at Kobi's and The Music Box next weekend

To sum it up: Great shows and great crowds. Weird times before, between and after the shows. Depressing end to it all.