If I had never met EB, I would likely have been at the festival by myself. I'm sure that I still would have had a great time. Going back much farther in time to another branch point between alternate realities, if Cara had never gotten cancer, there's a good chance I would have been at the festival with her.
It's interesting to think about these things, but I'm glad to say that the reality I inhabit is mostly a happy one.
When indie folk/rock band The Decemberists (whose lead singer Colin Meloy hails from Missoula) announced they were hosting a two-day music festival at the Big Sky Brewing Amphitheater in Montana's largest city, headlining both days and bringing in a great supporting lineup, it was an easy decision for me to go. I've been a Decemberists fan for many years. I had previously seen the band on four occasions, and each one was a very memorable experience. The first time I saw them was in October 2005 at the Odeon in Cleveland; I had just recently gotten into concertgoing and it was one of the most fun shows yet. The second came in November 2006 at the Agora in Cleveland. It was less than a week after I started dating Cara, and during the show, I called her when the band played "Red Right Ankle" so she could listen.
The third time I saw the Decemberists live was memorable for negative reasons. The April 23, 2011 show was on the indoor stage at the LC Pavilion in Columbus; Cara attended with me, but because the audience was so annoyingly chatty she got fed up and left halfway through the band's set. I didn't leave, but the chattiness put a big damper on the experience for me too. I remember well exiting the venue to find Cara waiting for me outside. I mentioned this experience, contrasting it to the much smaller but much more attentive audience at the Rural Alberta Advantage show I attended the next night, in a blog post. That RAA show was on April 24, 2011 - that is, exactly four years before Cara's death. It's so surreal to look back on things that occurred on those significant dates before they were significant dates.
I also reviewed the Decemberists show Cara and I attended at Nautica Pavilion in July of that year, the month after we got married. That was another very memorable show but in this case for a wonderful reason - the giant cargo ship that coincidentally floated down the Cuyahoga River behind the venue's stage in perfect timing with "The Mariner's Revenge Song" was surreal and awesome and left me giddy.
When I bought my ticket for Travelers' Rest (named for the nearby historic site where Lewis and Clark camped on their expedition), EB and I were already online friends, but were not yet dating. I'm delighted that things proceeded in the way they did, that I was able to procure a second ticket some time later via StubHub, and that the two of us were able to time our travels so that we met up at Midway Airport in Chicago on the evening of Friday, August 11 and then proceeded together to Spokane, Washington - the beginning of one of the most exciting weeks of my entire life.
The following day we drove to Missoula, stopping for lunch in the little town of Wallace, Idaho, where the annual Accordion Jubilee happened to be taking place, kicking off a wonderful weekend of musical festivities!
Montana is known as the Big Sky State, but as we drove on we noticed that the sky was not "big" at all; visibility was quite limited due to a thick haze created by recent forest fires in the area. When we arrived at the amphitheater, the sky was very strange. At times the sun, a bright orange circle, was visible through the haze, but other than that, the sky was all a monochrome gray, and none of the mountains that one would normally see from that vantage point were visible. It was like being enclosed in some sort of eerie dome, and I remarked to EB that I thought the atmosphere felt apocalyptic. Like outside of our little dome, the world could have ended and we wouldn't know.
Although of course our phones could be used to verify that the rest of the world was intact.
And of course current events, which many of the festival's artists gave brief mention to, also helped provide that apocalyptic flavor.
The festival was a nice way to escape - well, mostly escape - from that disturbing reality.
The Decemberists closed off the proceedings on both nights with absolutely stellar sets, repeating no songs between the two setlists. As a longtime fan of the band it was an absolute thrill, a wonderful selection of highlights from their large and varied catalog. Several of the songs ("Red Right Ankle" among them) recalled poignant memories of me and Cara. I became very emotional on multiple occasions, and was glad that I had EB there to lean on.
I was overjoyed when the band closed the first night with "The Tain," an epic (single track with five different movements in 18+ minutes) EP that they released in 2004. It's what one might call a "deep cut" from the band's catalog, not one that most casual fans would know. You see, at that show that Cara left early in disgust, the band opened the show with "The Tain," and Cara and I were initially excited, but quickly became exasperated and infuriated as most of the people around us loudly carried on with their conversations and made it nigh impossible for us to enjoy the band's performance. Now I was in an amphitheater full of true Decemberists fans and everyone was there to watch the band play. That makes the concertgoing experience so much better, and I thought of how thrilled Cara would have been to finally see "The Tain" performed in a proper environment.
On day two, an early to mid afternoon rain shower (very welcome in an area experiencing a drought) cleared out some of the haze. A brief heavier rainfall accompanied our arrival to the venue, but it quickly subsided, and weather conditions were quite nice for the rest of the day. I asked EB if she would be up for going to stand in the pit for some of the highlight performances, the Decemberists included (on the first night we stayed on the lawn). She was all for it. I have to say, it really drove home to me how much difference it makes to be up close and personal to performing artists. That's something I usually try to do at shows, but for some strange reason, I had always been rather far away from the stage at every previous Decemberists show I'd attended. The first night of Travelers' Rest was magical, but being close to the stage and surrounded by other fans who were as passionate as me took the second night to a whole nother joyous level. Best of all was the raucous encore, featuring "The Chimbley Sweep" and "The Mariner's Revenge Song" and taking me back to that very first Decemberists show I attended almost twelve years ago when the same two songs were performed in the encore!
Before playing the fan favorite "Mariner's Revenge Song," Colin Meloy always provides (undoubtedly familiar to most members of this particular audience) instructions that, at the appropriate time in the song, band member Chris Funk will give a signal, and then we audience members will all scream at the top of our lungs as if we are being devoured by a giant whale. And then, before the song begins, we practice. Funk holds his arms out and brings them together to mime a giant set of jaws closing. We all scream. This was old hat for me, but EB had never experienced it before. It was fun to see her have that experience.
As the band started up the jaunty intro to the epic revenge tune from their classic 2005 album Picaresque (my introduction to the band), I thought of all the previous times I'd seen the song performed. That included, in fact, every previous Decemberists concert I'd been to, except the previous night's. Best of all was that magical experience at my last Decemberists concert with Cara. Emotions surged inside me.
When the appropriate time came, EB and I joined in with the rest of the exuberant throng in a chorus of high-pitched screaming. And then the whale came out on stage.
(I was very in the moment and did not feel like taking my phone out for a picture; this is from another Decemberists show and I found it on a blog called I Just Read About That.)
EB reacted audibly in surprise and disbelief, and I loved her reaction, because I could remember oh those many years ago when I myself first laid eyes on a similar sight at my first Decemberists concert.
As the song reached its conclusion, the whale was actually crowdsurfed, adding a wonderful extra bit of whimsy to an already wonderful experience. All in all, it was quite easily one of the best concerts I've ever attended.
The trip to the festival would have been worth it for the two Decemberists performances alone, but the rest of the lineup provided several additional highlights. The secondary headlining artists (performing before the Decemberists on days one and two, respectively), The Head and the Heart and Belle and Sebastian, are two other bands whose music I've enjoyed for many years. Belle and Sebastian were meaningful not only to me and Cara but to EB and Todd as well. This was EB's first time seeing them live, and I was so happy she could have that experience. The Head and the Heart's performance made me very emotional in a way I hadn't anticipated, but it made sense. The only previous time I had seen them, they opened for the Decemberists at that spectacular last Decemberists show with Cara. I realized that I strongly associate the music from their first album with that summer of 2011, the summer when I got married, which was the happiest time in my life (now joined by the last few months!).
Julien Baker, the first main stage artist on day two, also gave a mesmerizing performance. Just one small woman by herself with her guitar, she was dwarfed by the huge stage on which she stood, but her powerful voice easily filled up the space. At one point between songs she remarked on how she was "so grateful" to be there. I shared the sentiment.
The Travelers' Rest festival was an experience I'm glad to say I'll always carry with me, but it was also just the beginning of an incredible week.
EB and I had been planning to find a hike to do on Monday somewhere between Missoula and Spokane (she was flying out of Spokane very early Tuesday morning), but on Sunday night EB suggested we make a day trip up to Glacier National Park, where she had been once with her family as a teenager. I was initially skeptical of the idea because of the huge amount of extra driving it would involve relative to the amount of time we'd be at the park, but she talked me into it, and I'm glad she did. We went on a great hike to Avalanche Lake. Early in the hike we passed a gorge with stunningly clear water rushing through picturesque rock walls that had been carved out and smoothed by the water over many millennia.
What awaited us at the end point of the out-and-back trail was far more stunning; in fact, I told EB it was "one of the most amazing things I've seen in my life."
This picture really doesn't do the sight justice, but it's the best I have. Something about the way those three thin waterfalls traversed their way down that massive rock face and the sheer scale of it all and the colors and the clear, cold water (which we couldn't resist "resting our toesies in" as EB and [redacted] like to say) was so captivating. We lingered there for some time as a cool, light rain fell onto the otherwise pristine lake surface and onto our heads. Once more, like at the festival, I felt very grateful to be there in that moment.
We returned to our rental car but did not yet begin the long drive to Spokane. Instead we continued farther into the park, along the unbelievably scenic "Going-to-the-Sun Road," retracing a route EB had traveled many years ago.
She told me that she liked traveling with me to places she had been before. I remarked that we had not yet traveled together to any places I had previously traveled - but then added that, although not a geographic location, going to a Decemberists concert had been like going to a place I had been before!
After reaching a visitor center by the continental divide, we got out, looked around, bought a couple of souvenirs for [redacted], and took stock of our situation. We had a long, long drive ahead of us. We would be reaching Spokane very late. I thought perhaps it had been crazy of us to attempt such a trip. Perhaps it was. But I'm glad we did it.
We reached Spokane after 11 pm (despite gaining an hour from the change in time zones) and EB's flight was at 6 am the next morning. (Hence the title of this blog post!) While EB would be flying back to Nashville, I had much more driving in store. Tuesday found me spending another 6 hours in the car as I drove to Mt. Rainier National Park to join my family. Several spectacular vistas along the way made the long drive anything but monotonous.
The last of these pictures is Mt. Rainier, the anchor point of the park that was my destination. I remember my jaw dropped at each of these sights. The American West really is full of awe-inspiring natural beauty in a way that is not quite true of the part of the country where I've lived my whole life (not that we don't have a lot of wonderful outdoors around here!).
More spectacular hiking awaited me at Rainier.
After a too short stay, my very busy visit to the Northwest concluded with a trip to Seattle to visit my friend Shelli Snyder who was struck by a car while riding her bicycle across the country last year and nearly died.
In fact, EB and I drove past the site of the crash, near Glacier National Park. A Bike Cleveland "Watch For Bikes, Save A Life" sign still stands next to the road there.
It was the first time I'd seen Shelli in several months and it was a very emotional visit. The fact that she survived and all the progress that she's made are wonderful. At the same time, I was deeply saddened at the very difficult reality she and her loved ones continue to face. And I felt newly infuriated at the person who had, in one careless moment, forever altered and nearly ended my friend's life.
When someone gets cancer, like Cara or Todd, it's often for reasons we can't fully understand or control. And we have to make the best of an awful situation, but we also know sometimes that's the way life is, and perhaps nothing could have been done to prevent it.
When a reckless driver strikes an innocent passerby like Shelli and nearly kills her, that's something that could very easily have been prevented if that driver had just been paying adequate attention to their surroundings. Such incidents happen all too often and only seem to be increasing in frequency. Operating a motor vehicle is an awesome responsibility and it's a responsibility that most people don't fully appreciate. A motor vehicle traveling at high speed is a deadly weapon. One careless moment can do irreversible damage. Please, please, please, make sure you do not take that awesome responsibility lightly, and speak up to influence those around you to do the same.
I spent the second half of Thursday and all of Friday with Shelli. Saturday found me catching a flight home to Cleveland that, although not as early as EB's Tuesday morning departure, was quite early itself. I didn't want to get home too late because I had a concert to go to that night - Michelle Branch at the Grog Shop. It was a concert I was very much looking forward to, as Michelle Branch's music is meaningful to me in ways that involve both Cara and EB. (I plan to write about this in an upcoming post.)
I was scheduled to fly through Minneapolis with an hour-and-a-half layover, but after my plane in Seattle taxied out to the runway, we were informed that there was a problem with one of the doors and we would be returning to the gate.
I cringed, remembering how the previous time I had been flying home to Cleveland with plans to see a concert that night, I had ended up missing the concert because of extreme flight delays.
It seemed to take forever, but finally we departed Seattle, and I was relieved to realize that I would be (just barely) making my next flight. As I exited the plane in Minneapolis, I was expecting to have to make a rushed journey through the terminal. I was not at all expecting what actually happened. Stepping off the plane and into the tunnel, I noticed a man in a suit holding a board with my and another passenger's names on it. He led us down a stairway, onto the tarmac - and toward a waiting Porsche, in which he drove us to our next plane!
What a way to cap off a week full of adventures.
The concert that night was great, but as I said, I'll cover that in another post.
Monday brought more excitement with the solar eclipse. It was thrilling to see the eclipse here in Cleveland, reminding me very much of the 1994 solar eclipse I saw as a child in Columbus. After seeing pictures from people who got to experience totality, though, I found myself wishing I had extended my travels through Monday to be able to see the total eclipse myself. (Even if it would have meant missing the Michelle Branch concert, because I'm sure I'll get another opportunity to see Michelle Branch before my next opportunity to see a total solar eclipse.) I had thought it would be too much traveling, with all the other traveling I've done not only last week but the rest of this summer. I now think (as my and EB's day trip to Glacier showed!) that there is rarely such thing as too much traveling when the traveling involves such wonderful adventures.
