The last time I was on an official road trip was sometime right after turned sixteen and got my license. Now a days there’s all sorts of laws about sixteen year olds driving at night and not driving with other teenagers but those laws didn’t exist when I was a teen and for some reason unbeknownst to me my parents eagerly agreed to let me, my brother, Russel Winfield and Beth Trombly trek across the country from Connecticut to Whistler to spend a summer underage drinking and shredding Blackcomb glacier. Like all eager young shredders bound for the novelty of summer time snowboarding, we hardly stopped to sleep or pee and blitzed through amber waves of grain and the purple mountain majesty, never stopping to admire anything remotely resembling the worlds largest ball of twine, Yellowstone or South Dakota’s Corn Palace. In the three days it took us to cross this country we were so fixated on our destination and the snowboarding ahead that nothing else really mattered. Now more than a decade later, I’ve recovered from the memory of that trip and am back on another cross country jaunt webcasting the Zumiez Couch Tour and since this road trip has no end that speeding tickets or lack of sleep will make come any quicker it’s best to just sit back and mosey onwards and enjoy the beauty of the American countryside with all it’s crappy, wacky Americana and all the splendor in between.
the icy cold waters of the Yuba.
The beauty of a trip like this, in addition to the having unlimited access to an endless amount of tacky truck stops and sprawling strip malls, is being able to visit small towns and old friends. This week, after Mall Tour stop number 3 in San Jose, we quickly headed into the thick pine filled forest to swim in the icy mountain waters of the Yuba river and catch up with old friends.
One of my oldest friends lives in the heart of a “growing” community just outside Nevada City, CA where, from a handful of stories told round the dinner table involving revolvers and getaways leads me to believe that the wild wild west might actually still exist.There’s an old story about Nevada County, who named itself long before the state of Nevada and upon hearing that Nevada would be the name of the state bordering Nevada County, the residence of the country redrew the boundary lines in the shape of a revolver aimed right for Nevada….better watch yerself in these parts.
The wild west still exists in these parts revolvers and all….or maybe they’re semi automatics actually.
Tina Basich, of legendary shred fame also happens to reside in and run the coolest shop and studio in the small town of Nevada City. It’s one of those magical creative shops whose doors beckon you in and whose wares make you feel like angels really do exist. It’s called My Favorite Things and it’s filled with the whimsical angelic creations from miss Tina herself along with her favorite things of course. In the back, there’s a studio for classes and crafts and tea parties too, it’s a playhouse for kids and adults so if your driving to or from Tahoe I highly recommend a visit, if not check out her website and buy some of your new favorite things….Nevada’s not half bad at sunset….
Onward and eastward we go, I’m home in a rainy Aspen repacking my poorly packed suitcase and ditching over half the items in it, swapping party shoes for a guitar and relishing the luxury of sleeping in ones own bed. Tomorrow I’ll meet up with the rest of the We Media Project crew in Denver for the 5th stop of the Zumiez Couch Tour on Monday and then prepare myself for a long hot drive deep into the heart of Texas.
Did I mention we’re trying to make it across the country in our veggie oil van, grease not gas style and in addition to doing all sorts of new webcasting stuff I’ve become a connoisseur of used fry oil…more on that in my next blog…xoxo t