Deering and Stone

On the freeway in San Diego, California, between the Deering Banjo factory and the Stone Brewery, I knew I was nearing enlightenment of the beer and acoustic music flavor. I have become a born-again singer-songwriter, banjo flavor-lover music nut. Back in the early nineties in the Ozark mountains, and the old-timey banjo flavor left my ears ringing. No one would have guessed that fifteen years later, I would spend my spare time traveling to great bluegrass shows where the banjo-player makes the afternoon sky brighten with surreal light and sets you down beside snowmelt-running water, or that on New Year's Eve I would thrill to a tour of Deering Banjo before my lunch and microbrew. This renaissance of my life interests in due entirely to Tony Furtado, whose show two years back in Mt. Shasta stilled my heart, and The Infamous Stringdusters, whose show in Davis left me spellbound. The Stringdusters are due back north here in a few weeks, and though my hometown is three hours from Ashland and the show is midweek, I am going to try to get there.

I live in Redding. A folk guitarist and good friend here bought a Deering banjo and took me to see Furtado, and that began my journey. Since then, I've spent afternoons under tents at the Colusa Fairgrounds with banjo, guitar, bass, mandolin, and fiddle players. I'm prepared to do more bluegrass festivals and roadtrips this year. I'm just listening. Yes, it is high time I tune up myself, but there's no way I can meet the score of the people I enjoy. I'm sampling, drinking it in. The next 'dusters show is coming up soon, in Ashland. Like Springsteen, the 'dusters give and give and give, a high energy show with unparalleled musicianship and unforgettable lyrics. Music and poetry and the ethereal hum.

This is the story of the bluegrass roadtrip.