Mar 1, 1999 – On The Road Again
So….We’re going out on the road again.
We’ve got a new member of the band. Chris Soucy. He’s a real catch. Guitar player, singer, friend, spiritual adviser, and school teacher. We hired him, after a painstaking search, in a room full of second graders teaching social studies. Just goes to show you: can’t judge a book by it’s cover (ha ha). We also picked up a new sound man: Chris Delucchi who we’ve already designated as “the nicest guy in the world.”
The last tour was great. We gallivanted around Colorado in the new van “Mobbie” eating gasoline food, singing along to Grant Lee Buffalo, groovin’ to the Meters and trying to learn drum patterns from Brian Mcrae taped drum classes.
Oh yeah! My band consists of:
Brian Mcrae – drums
Kenny Castro (no relation) – bass
Chris Soucy – lead guitar/back up vocal
Chris Delucchi – sound board
and me Sally Taylor – rhythm guitar and lead vocals
I bought Ponds’ “Biore Strips” at some rest stop on the way to a show (they’re the little strips that you put across your nose and they’re suppose to draw the dirt and gunk out of your pores) and we all put them on and they looked so cute.
Kenny reads constantly. Soft back covered tattered novels about adventure; you can almost never catch him unglued to a page.
Brian is always making up new drum beats on his “Red Box” (which we playfully refer to as his “girlfriend” because he loves it so much). He’s always enthusiastically trying to get one of us to listen to his newest sample. He was previously Sherry Jackson’s drummer.
I don’t know Chris Soucy well enough to describe except to say that he’s very exact. He’s always on time. He’s always on the beat and he hates chord progressions that are not in the same key (I’m hoping to break him of that).
Chris Delucchi is the nicest guy in the universe. He was previously Zuba’s sound man and I’m very happy to have him on board.
This tour is headed west (Colorado, California, Oregon, Washington) and hopefully we’ll see some of you out there.
Vail, CO – March 6 – We’re in Vail (Gartons) at sound check. It’s cold in here. My fingers barely bend let alone pluck a guitar. But I’m extremely happy to be here. We had a spectacular evening last night at the Howling Wolf in Aspen. It was great to see all of the familiar faces. They shouted out requests off Tomboy Bride and sang along while we played. There were new faces too. People danced and played air guitar and we just played and played and played. The new songs were fondly received and a group of really great radio people from KSPN said they’d be psyched to play our stuff on their station. We crawled into wobblely hotel beds at 3:00am, exhausted but not tired so we stayed up and talked about our dreams.
Tonight we open up for the Young Dubliners. They’re sound checking now and they sound pretty good. I’m a big fan of Garton’s. They have a floor that actually bounces when people dance … Cool. After the show we’re driving back to Boulder to catch the tail end of The Funky Meters at the Fox Theater.
Yea!! A day off on Sunday ….
Breckenridge, CO – March 8
We drove back to Boulder after our show at Gartons in Vail which was very energizing. The drive back was exhausting and I was asleep for most of it. Funny how days pass slower on the road and yet weeks are lightning fast.
The day off on Sunday (3/7) was much appreciated and I had a bunch of stickers designed and manufactured of the Taylor Family symbol, with my name around it.
We drove up to Breckenridge through the bleakness of Monday. The day was dark and the night was demon cold and dry. Load in 5:00 but sound check wasn’t until 8:30 so we all felt rushed to wait.
The show itself was fun. Laid back. Unromantic but sweet and sort of sultry. The highlight was meeting one of my grandfather’s wartime buddies, Charlie. I never really knew my grandfather Ike although I wrote a song for him which is on Tomboy Bride: “In My Mind.”
We drove back at 1 ish and crawled into our own beds at 2:30. Looking forward to Denver on Friday.
Denver, CO – March 10 – The Soiled Dove
The Soiled Dove is a fantastic venue. The room in itself is the best sounding room I’ve ever been in and the people who work there are sweet and helpful.
We left Boulder at 4:00 and listened to a jazz station on the short drive (1 hr.) to Denver. Chris drove and we all spaced out watching the lines on the road blend together. I for one was in a zone. I needed coffee really badly.
My best friend, Nisa is with us. She’s been helping me. Selling merch. and such. We’ve known each other since I was five and always manage to regress to eight year olds when were together.
A sweet young girl named Liz Clark opened for us while I took the boys down stairs to show them the costumes I purchased for them for the song “actress” that we do that my mom wrote but lets me play out.
I put Kenny in a pink frosted wig, I tied a white boa around Chris’s neck and Brian wore a sequin star bandana and his red sunglasses “the Ferarri of gas station shades.” None of them complained. In fact I think they dug their new uniforms.
The show was a blast. The audience clapped and the room grew and the night turned into morning.
Boulder, CO – March 13 – The Boulder Theater
Not a long way from home last night, and a good thing too because I kept on forgetting things in my apartment. First it was my CDs and then I realized right before sound check that I’d left my guitar at home. How forgetful I’ve become or perhaps I just wasn’t so concerned knowing that I was but 10 minutes away from home.
The Boulder Theater is a remarkable place. The hard wood floors have faces. The ceilings are coated with laughter and applause. The room seems full without anybody there.
I was glad when sound check was done. We chattered through the cold over one block for a bite at The Red Fish with Brian Mcrae (the drummer’s) parents.
Nisa and I race/skipped back to The Boulder Theater after some steamed mussels and a little eggplant parmesan which I was remarking about potentially being allergic to.
9:45. We, as a band, as a body, gathered behind the black curtain stage left. I don’t know if there is a way to describe the apprehension of going on stage. But usually it feels to me like running forward toward the edge of a cliff. But last night was different. Last night behind that black curtain running toward the edge of that cliff, eyes closed, I mysteriously felt I was caught. Like I was embraced by a thousand singing voices. Like the voices of those who have gone before me, jumped before me, Launched themselves into the air before me, and flew, were singing me afloat.
The show was great. The band just gets tighter and tighter. Tonight….Back up to Vail for one last CO show before we head WEST.
Vail, CO – Garton’s – March 14
It was unseasonably warm this Sunday. We got to see sunset on the road, over the mountains to the west. We’ll be there soon.
We had to pick up Kenny from a public parking lot in Morrison just before I70. A young distressed couple sat parked across from us. We all pathetically stared through Mobby’s tinted window at what appeared to be a break-up scene. It’s strange how human tragedy is some how sickly appealing.
Brian’s mother has been learning to play the electric guitar and Brian suggested we have her sit in with us. We all think that’s a fabulous idea.
I gave the band toiletry kits as a road gift. Nisa assembled them. They seemed concerned about their hygiene upon receiving them. I assured them: It was not a hint, just a gift.
We ate at the venue. Brian got very excited about a very large salad and made me take a picture of it.
Sunday at Garton’s proved to be somewhat slow and unfortunately the billing suggested that the Tony Fratado Band was playing first and that we were playing second (it was a split bill). So most of the people who were coming to see Tony had to sit through our set and those who were coming out to see us missed us almost completely.
Regardless, we had fun (as usual) and drove back home after the show. We got to see the sun rise over the east. Delucchi (Chris) drove. I was a bit slap happy I must admit and we all were exhausted. We stopped late night at a Loaf and Jug and bought candy (road fuel) and coffee. Sometimes when I get home late at night I forget how tired I was five minutes ago in the van and I start doing things I left undone the day before. Last night was one of those nights. When I got in the door at 3:00 I started vacuuming. So strange.
I’m glad to have two days off before the road heads west.
March 17 – Somewhere near Utah
Roasting Bananas on the dash board. Galactic on the stereo. Various sizes of coffee containers strune about the floor. Tunnel, light, tunnel, corner, grab for the loose soda cans, tunnel, tunnel, night.
It’s just about as romantic in here as it gets. 1/2 of us are asleep, all of us are in our separate worlds, looking out the window, planning our futures, re inventing our pasts, zone, zone, zone, feet up on the cooler, shoes off. Truck stops, gas stops, rest stops, and miles of mountains the only reason we turn and wave.
I’m knitting. I know it’s kind of silly but it’s the only way to meditate out here in the middle of nowhere. I’m making a red sweater.
Yup, it’s just about as snug in here as it gets. Over alls, old T-shirts, mismatched socks, neck pillows, ripped maps, coffee stains.
I’m on vocal rest on account of a little cough/horseness I’ve acquired. It makes me concerned for the up coming dates but I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’m driving every on, including myself, crazy with my constant pantomime, charades and note writing. Every one is patient with me on account of the possible alternative–losing my voice.
This part of the country looks like the moon.
1/2 way through Utah….
Some where 1/2 way through Utah I began to feel happier than I’ve ever been. Listening to the Funky Meters, Brian Driving. 5:30, 8 hours into the drive. 3 games of Backgammon down, (Chris Soucy taught me how to play). The sun was setting, my head propped up against the driver side window looking back at my bass player Kenny and my best friend Nisa dozing. Everything is just perfect.
San Diego & Santa Ana 3/19…..
We went to the Taylor Guitar manufacturing show case today, where I sadly had to leave off my beloved Taylor for repair.
Rick Fagen gave us an unbelievably cool tour around the grounds. It was amazing to see all the machinery that goes into making a guitar. They even have a laser beam that shoots out and cuts the circumference of the guitar faces. And despite all the rad technology it still takes them about 7 days to make each guitar.
We all got to play gorgeous guitars. Even Kenny got to hit on an acoustic bass. Much to Brian’s dismay they did not make “guitar’s for drummers.” But we all got shirts and hats and some music.
I’ve been sneezing like mad since we left the where house. I must have been allergic to something there. So due to my combination cold/allergy….I’m on yet another vocal rest. This tour should be called the “Silent Tour.”
The show at the Casbah went really well last night, there was a lot of audience interaction and quite comfortably we played. I felt like I was in my living room playing to a bunch of my friends.
Some one sent me very beautiful flowers with no name attached. Who ever you are, thank you so much.
So now we are sitting in the very large green room in the upstairs of “The Galaxy.” We just got served dinner. We are not used to such bountiful accommodations so we took full advantage of it, drinking all the teas, taking pictures in front of a fully stocked refrigerator, taking showers, lounging in the couches and dancing all around.
Despite all the fun we were having I was really suffering from mass sneezing attacks. My eyes were all red and swollen and even more terrifying, my throat was sore and I was slowly loosing it.
I guess I started panicking at around 8:30, an hour before we went on. Talking was painful and I didn’t dare attempt to hit a note for fear it wouldn’t come out. At around 9:15 I gave up freaking out. I mean there was nothing I could do but have a positive out look on it and do the best I could. I decided to be determined to have a great show.
Funny how things work out. When I got on stage, though I could barely gather voice to speak with, I somehow had the power to belt it out. Thank God.
Troubadour tomorrow….Please voice hold on……
March 20 – The Troubador
Last night was the BEST night of my life and I don’t say that lightly. When people say: “When Pigs Fly,” or “in my wildest dreams,” Well, I was in my wildest dreams last night and pigs were filling the sky. I don’t even know where to start, the shock hasn’t completely worn off and the grin (from ear to ear) doesn’t seem to go away even after sleeping.
We got to the Troubadour for load in at 6:30. After losing my voice almost entirely after the Galaxy show, I did a vocal fast during the day, nervously opening my mouth at 5ish to see if it was still there. It was horse then so I decided against a vocal warm up (my usual procedure). Luckily it came back almost completely for the performance itself.
I’d never been in the Troubadour. It was a tall room with a balcony facing east and the stage (which was huge and took up nearly 1/2 the room) faced west. We sound checked, grabbed a bite and then I did a little interview out side on the street with a very nice Canadian man and his wife.
At 8:15 I went back stage to get dressed. My boyfriend, Kipp came up and said “Sally, there’s some guy named Joel from Martha’s Vineyard here to see you.” I couldn’t think of who Joel was. At the bottom of the stairs there was my beloved brother Ben and his girlfriend Bridge, who I’d previously been told were in New York. I was so supprised and excited.
We had to go on at 8:30. It was amazing to me. The audience watched attentively, people swayed and clapped like crazy when we’d finish up a tune. It was so luxurious. I felt so spoiled. Be that’s not what I’m talking about when I say last night was the best night of my life.
My brother had asked me if I’d call him up on stage for “Happy Now,” one of the songs on my album. I was so honored that he wanted to sing with me. When I called him to come up on stage, he said: “I’d like to invite one more person up here.” In turn I replied “oh great, I invite you up and the next thing I know, the whole audience is up here.” And out from stage right I see some one coming. It doesn’t look like anyone I know. And then, the spot light catches her and I almost die right there on the ground. It’s my mommy. My sweet adorable mommy came all the way from the east on a plane which I know she hates more than anything in the world. And there she is standing next to me, hugging me and were both laughing, and floating 5 feet above this stage. This stage where 28 years ago she was discovered and I’m more happy than I’ve ever been in my life.
They both sang harmony on Happy Now and then left me to finish up the show. But I didn’t need to finish the show I didn’t need anything else ever, I could have just laid down and died and said that I’d already lived my dream.
After I sang Tomboy Bride and finished up the show, I was greeted by so many familiar faces. So many people I hadn’t see forever, and so many new friends. We draped ourselves over the night ending up in the morning at Sky Bar.
It just don’t get better than that. Does it?
March 23 – Hotel Utah
Hotel Utah was small and intimate. Maybe a little too intimate. I felt at times that I was singing into the face of a mirror. That people’s responses reflected my immediate actions. When I smiled, people in the crowd grinned back. But maybe I’m just too in my own head these days. Regardless, it was a fun show, short, but fun.
We’ve been staying with Chris Delucchi’s family who are unbelievably sweet. Mr. Delucchi plays the drums so Brian has been occupied trying to sample his vintage kit.
March 24 – Sweetwater
What a great place. The Sweetwater is a historic music venue which recently closed, was bought and reopened about a month or two ago by Tom and his wife. Tom is the most generous, kindest owner or human for that matter, who ever lived.
In the green room hang old newspaper clippings, old posters and stickers of all the “greats.” We hung ours up there in hopes that in 30 years or so we will have blended into the ageless raggedness of the timeless history down there.
What a trip to see my old baby sitter Jane Hogan who showed up to support us. She looked the same, except I was taller so she was shorter. We reminisced of course and did a sound check. Mill Valley is a cool little town.
It rained all day and made romantic the wood on the walls and the floor and the stage which seemed to glisten from the dampness.
The show….Well it was glorious simply fun and wonderfully received by a generous audience who stayed and stayed and stayed.
I’m writing this from the morning at 7:00. We’re trying to leave Chris’s house. We’ve decided to take a leisurely drive up the coast 640 miles to Portland today but we’re all rushing to begin taking it slow. We’re going to stop at some wineries and maybe go to an aquarium later.
Can’t wait for Portland
March 26 – Portland, The White Eagle
“Lack of space is a true test of band harmony.”-Brian Mcrae
17 hours. 7 people. Huge equipment and 3 weeks worth of clothing in and half out of bags all compacted together into mope.
We drove up from San Francisco to Portland on Thursday, deciding we’d take our time. Get out of the car once and a while to avoid going crazy, being so cramped next to one an other. Our first stop was Safe way for breakfast (raw carrots, candy, deli meats and soda…we’re trying to be healthy). Then we decided to go through the petrified forest and through the red wood groves. We stopped at Clos Du Bois for a quick wine tasting and then again several hours latter for lunch at Mackay’s, which we now fondly refer to as the “Clear Cut Cafe.”
Late through the rain we drove, each of us calling dibs on the driver seat…the only uncrowed spot in the car. Kenny hit a dog but didn’t kill it. It was a long drive. We arrived at the hotel around 3am and crashed.
The next day rained. It’s rained since then, continuously.
The White Eagle is a groovy grove in down town Portland. It’s said to be haunted and I think if I we’re a ghost I’d probably want to hang there too. It’s really cool. The walls are covered with old Turkish and Persian wool rugs. On the back wall hands a mural reading “Palmistry.” The green room is their kitchen supply space. It’s where we hung out before the show laughing and talking above the kitchen floor above which squeeked and creeked.
The show was sold out. It was wonderful to play to such an attentive room. And have, finally, a sort of early night.
March 27 – Seattle, Sit and Spin
The morning was spent resisting the day. Everyone wanted more rest but we went to Shari’s for waffles instead and then cruised up to Washing to state, not to far away.
Lost again. Trying to find our way to our very out of the way hotel.
The Sit and Spin is wild. It’s amazingly Bohemian. It’s a funky Laundromat that is also a music venue/restaurant/bar/game room. The walls are covered with board games. Strategy, Sorry, Monopoly, Battle Ship…..
Sound Check was slow and the bass drum mic wouldn’t cooperate fully.
We had a wonderful opener, a girl named Loni Rose (pop).
We had a wonderful show but could have used some more people to fill up the room. It’s difficult to get the energy to perform with out a bunch of people. But those who were there were completely supportive and great so I consider it a fantastic gig.
I can’t say I’m sad to be going home, despite the glorious tour we’ve had. I just want to sleep for 100 days.
March 29 – Somewhere in Oregon
We move lethargicly at 60 miles per hour, which is ok when you have nowhere to be, and are somewhere in Oregon headed toward Boise in Idaho.
The Game is on the radio, Duke vs. UCONN. It’s dark in the van. We are split on who we want to win but 1/2 of us don’t really care. I spilt diet Coke on my seat and now I’m sitting in a wet spot.
During commercial breaks, which seem longer than the program these days, we tell stories. So far we’ve heard about “The largest acorn” from Chris Soucy, “The sinking boat/wet oreos” from Mr. Mcrae, I told the story about the time I had to have a spinal tap, and Nisa told us that when she was younger she threw herself through a glass door because her mother insisted she come in for dinner. What a strange and wonderful group we have.
March 31 – Crested Butte, Colorado
We arrived in Crested Butte late on Tues. after a 15 hour drive. I drove most of the day, stopping at different Safeways for deli meats and bread so that Chris could make us all sandwiches on our make shift counter top (the cooler lid). Stopping at rest stops in Mohab to stretch legs and marvel at the great distance between canyon walls and at their vivid colors. Nisa drove when night fell because despite the bright light from the almost full moon, I am night blind.
We crashed haphazardly on our friends, Erin & Dave’s couches, futons, and floors only to be woken up by their dogs at 6am.
It snowed that day (Crested Butte has no snow on her mountains). We grabbed coffee and some soggy eggs from a grumpy waitress on the main drag then went back to the house and I taught yoga to Erin and the boys, who have greatly improved their flexibility this trip (Brian Mcrae can touch his toes now).
It was cold that day but it was bitter that night. It took the instruments extra long to get in tune and my vocal chords were stiff due not only to cold but also the dry which I now must adapt back to.
My friend Heidi from Martha’s Vineyard, sent me flowers and I kept them next to the stage. The Crested Butte Performing Art Center is one of my favorite places to play. It’s a 250 seated theater with great acoustics and a beautiful carpet on stage.
The show was great. Maybe because it was our last for a week or so and, like horses we’ve been chomping at the bit to get home.
And now we are home and I’m about to go to sleep for five days….Good night.
April 4 – Finally Off The Road
It may be more exhausting readjusting to everyday life than actually being on the road. I mention this possibility on account of how I’m feeling now, 4 days of sleep (in my own bed) later. I can’t seem to escape the world of flannel (which is my sleeping/hibernating situation). I can’t seem to return calls, even to my very closest friends, let alone meet someone for coffee. Not even an invitation for a Florentine (1/2 coffee, 1/2 hot chocolate) gets me motivated to leave my house. I must admit I feel rather trapped by my phobia and yet, I can’t seem to put a logical reason to my painful, saddening solitude.
I guess I miss the road. I miss different hotel rooms, not having to making the bed, eating dinner at 4am, sleeping next to a snoring sound man, breakfast at the nearest gas station, singing, watching people watch me singing, meeting people, signing their discs, or their arms or whatever they’d have me ‘John Hancock’ (well almost anything).
I think it’s also hard to leave a place, go away for a substantial amount of time to do something you’re passionate about, and then return expecting to be the same person. It just doesn’t happen that way, or at least it didn’t happen to me that way this time. And I guess now I’m sad, mourning who I was before I left 30 or so days ago, and curious as to who I have become, and what that will mean to my existing relationships. Maybe nothing. Maybe I’m just projecting. Maybe I just need more sleep. And so it is that I return to my flannel haven.
Frisco, CO – April 8
When the boys showed up at my house at 5:30 I was delighted to hear them whine about wanting to go back on the road. I must admit that I’m a little desperate to get back out there too. Not because I don’t love being home or because the road is easy but because the band is becoming more and more like my family and coming home requires readjustments which to me seem more exhausting than touring. (I of course say that from home and not on the road).
It was great to be back in a loaded up Moby. We listened to CD’s people had sent us and stopped at our favorite Loaf ‘N Jug for coco coffee and cheap sunglasses. We talked about the week + we’d spent apart. It seemed like everyone had been through the ringer: Breakups, one of us was fired from our day job, parking tickets, dog houses, bike accidents and days we’d slept through. Glad to be home?
We got to Barkly’s a little late for sound check and loaded in on their outdoor “lift.” We didn’t sound check until 15 minutes before the show. Every one was already there which I hate ‘cus then you don’t really feel like you have the time to make things sound the way you really want them. I ended up not having very good sound in my ears that night and that’s just the way things went.
It was an OK show. Nothing really to write home about (though that’s what I’m doing) and the people in the audience were sweet, attentive and seemed to really enjoy the show.
The boys fell asleep on the way home but Delucchi and I (driver and shot gun) were wired on the Excedrin we’d taken for our head aches. It was cold getting home at 3am but there was a moon over Boulder, huge and orange which hung over the valley like a necklace and it made everything just right.
April 10 – The Tuft Theater @ Swallow Hill
I played this one alone.
It was an opener slot to support Peter Ostroushko before a packed house of 150. “An intimate evening.” The joint felt sort of like a summer camp for professionals. I don’t know exactly what that means only that it brings to my mind an image of children wearing suits.
Kipp drove us down to Denver after a sound check with “The Samples” at the Fox Theater in Boulder where there were no lights on account of a heavy wind storm the night before (wow, long sentence). They’d called me up to ask if I’d play a song with them that night. The plan was to play my set in Denver, pack up and drive back to Boulder (approx. 1hr) to play with “The Samples.”
After the sound was checked at the Tuft Theater Kipp went out to find food. He came back with Mexican. Just dessert for me (flan) and an ice tea. We lounged around on the red carpeted floor up stairs, stretching strings, drinking soda and watching the ceiling, our heads propped up against an empty guitar case.
It was so charming to play before that audience. A five-year-old’s eyes from stage right jetting up at me and then distractedly seeking something else to look. at A huge applause at the end of each song followed by polite laughter as I explained some of the more ridiculous stories behind my songs.
I like to play alone sometimes. It’s sort of like flying without a plane. I don’t have anything to lean on and then nothing to rely on. It’s quite a challenge.
April 22 – Fox Theater, Boulder
What an amazing event took place last night. 12 women, “The Women From Mars,” (no relation to the book) musicians, and friends, came together last night to perform at the Fox Theater. It was our CD release party. Over the last 6 months “The Women From Mars” have made a compilation CD who’s proceeds go toward fighting multiple sclerosis and breast cancer and last night the CD became available.
“The Women from Mars” got started because we (the women musicians of Boulder) never got to see each other perform cus we were out on the road or were too busy sleeping recovering from the road. So now, once about every month or so, we all gather together at one of the local venues to play our new stuff for each other, and any one else who bless us with their company.
It’s such a beautiful thing to get to hear and support these women do what they love. I’ve been so honored to be a part of the group. The web site is womenfrommars.com.
Snow covered the ground when I woke up yesterday morning at 8:30, late to meet my friend Bill for breakfast. Ah snow in April, one of the strange, funky little quirks about living in CO.
I had a radio interview at KCNU at 11:00. I got there to find four of the other women from mars. Immediately Libby Kirkpatric grabbed me aside to tell me she loved the song I’d contributed to the CD: “and I’m picky” she added. She suggested we teach the other girls the back ups to “Red Room” and all sing it on the air. It was so beautiful to hear all of us women singing that song over the air waves. I felt so empowered by their voices. I left the station with my orange bunny hat with the pompon and my guitar in hand feeling so high and grateful and excited for the show.
Back stage, down stairs, in the blue of the green room, we primped. We exchanged stories from our travels and tried each other’s make-up. We laughed and we laughed and we asked people to sing along, going two and three at a time into the dimly lit bathroom with guitars to teach each other harmonies. The back stage was filled with music.
The stage was lit up with candles and boas and guitars and percussion and the audience faces were glowing and adoring and supportive and I just had the best time ever. Each of us would get up and do a 30 minute set while the rest of us watched from the stair well in admiration. The night went of without a hitch. For “Happy Now” I called all the girls up to sing and as we all sang I just thought how lucky I am to have such remarkable and beautiful and talented friends. Friends who are strong enough to support each others creativity instead of seeing it as competition. I can’t say enough about the night.
The snow which had turned to rain, was pounding down as we loaded out at 3am. The guys were tired and I felt as though I’d hit a brick wall. The electricity went out as I got in the door and I don’t think I’ve ever slept so well.
It was a great night.