Tour Diary – Plymouth, New Hampshire (August 3, 2012)
After the final show of the Mellencamp tour I headed back to Toronto for a day and then took off for the Adirondacks in search of my family. I spent ten days waking up early and floating around in a canoe amongst the weeds and mist. Each morning I watched the sun slowly climb above the mountains while I talked to the bass below who were, for the most part, friendly and accomodating. And now we’re back on the bus, it’s like we never left, perhaps we never did…I’ve seen movies like this, alternate realities, space/time continuum, etc….but I digress. This two week tour will take us mainly through the northern New England states; it’s one of our favourite spins through some of our favourite towns and venues. It’s almost like summer vacation…almost.
Our first stop is Plymouth New Hampshire, located in the beautiful White Mountains. Whenever I travel through this area I just want to stop moving, set up camp and take it all in. This is our first time in Plymouth which has a great feel; full of locally owned coffee shops and bookstores and restaurants. The venue, The Flying Monkey, is relatively new and they are trying to do it right. So far they have everything down; a large, comfortable dressing room; a nice size stage; great sightlines; and the staff is more than helpful and friendly. They still need to work a bit on the sound in the room, there is something about the PA that isn’t tuned right, which also affects the sound on-stage….it’s an easy fix with a bit of attention and time. We had an interesting night on stage: not your typical first night gig which is usually spent getting re-familiar with your instruments and gear. Tonight the music was loose, perhaps a little unfocused and it had a slightly anxious edge, but it had a good energy. The audience was incredible; boisterous and excited and ready to rock. We hope to make this room a regular stop on our journeys.
There was a river running out back of the venue so I stole an hour to walk on down to it. At home, I found a beautiful old rod that my Dad gave to me 40 years ago, which I’ve brought along on this run, and I also invested in a new reel. I wasn’t prepared for the upgrade in equipment and my first cast saw my rig take off, like a rocket, straight up and down the river bank and smack into the branches of a large oak tree. On the road again….