Forgive My Absence

Where have all the posts gone? Despite a trip to Humpback Rocks in Charlottesville and a breathtaking fall hike through the York River State Park, I have been hesitant to post here. I've run out of storage room in my Flickr account, which means I don't have anywhere to host my latest photos - which happen to be the narration to my entries. I figure, it just isn't the same without the pictures!

In the meantime, I have been authoring a new blog called "MLS Fan Central", which is dedicated to Major League Soccer rumors, news, and analysis. Despite the fact that I'm back home in Virginia and continuing to explore the wonderful creation of God in this beautiful state, the MLS has received most of my attention. I encourage you to take a look at it, but don't abandon me here quite yet either. I'm looking into finding some more hosting space to upload pictures, which means more narrations and trip reports to come!

Also, in the next week I plan on getting to Humpback Rocks and a few mountain bike trails around the Hampton Roads area. Fall is a beautiful season and I'll do my best to bring it home for you!

Photo Featured in Publication

For a while now, Adventure VA has been, well, Adventure MIA. School started and the party stopped, and my daily excursions took on a more urban affair. I'm back in downtown Chicago, but am still dreaming of treks through the Appalachians, bridge jumping, and historic encounters throughout Virginia. In the mornings I wake up and look at Virginia Beach web cams as religiously as my yuppie neighbor studies the New York Times, although to be honest I think I get a little more satisfaction out of my endeavor. I have made a few attempts to try the urban edition of the AdventureVA lifestyle, but most of the time plans fell through and I found myself sitting on my couch playing FIFA on the XBOX.

Today is a special occasion, however, because I have the opportunity to talk about the glory days that were this past summer. The other day I received an email saying that one of my pictures, which was featured on this blog, has been chosen for inclusion in the newly released third edition of the Schmap Richmond Guide.

I'm definitely honored to be in this publication, no matter how little my contribution may be. The fact that someone has noticed and appreciated my photography is certainly a blessing. And if nothing else, at least it gave me a reason to return to this blog! You can view the image in the guide at the following link, or you can also play around with the Widget that the Schmap Guide provided!

http://www.schmap.com/richmond/activities_guided/p=268507/i=268507_3.jpg

(Look for Pamplin Park & National Museum of the Civil War Soldier, # 13 of 19 in the widget. You will find my photo of the park forest there.)

Beckham Rant

America has discovered one of England's favorite pastimes in criticizing David Beckham, but this bashing is undeserved...Many people have tried very hard to dislike David Beckham. Few have succeeded in the long run.

Martin Rogers, Yahoo Sports

Finally, in an overwhelming world of sports journalism covering the controversial move of David Beckham, this perfect headline found its way to the front page of Yahoo! Sports. It has taken thousands of amateur and professional journalists alike to discover the perfect spin on one of the most hyped moves in sports history, but in this case, Martin Rogers has struck gold. Now it's my turn to share the gospel and rally behind an emerging American sports hero, David Beckham.

It has been an ugly summer for American sports to say the least, with controversy surrounding baseball and steroids, pro wrestling and steroids, Michael Vick and Pacman Jones, Tim Donaghy, and Kobe Bryant. This list could go on. Even the most dedicated sports fans are losing faith in the American sports industry, which has proven itself to be "dirtier" than ever. It has been difficult to find a positive spin on an embarrassing summer of stories that has dogged American's enthusiasm and depressed sports journalism, yet for some reason even the exciting story of David Beckham's arrival has been met with cruel criticism and unfair disrespect.

As Rogers' story on Yahoo! will point out, however, hating David Beckham is becoming harder and harder. Beckham has been patient with his ankle, resisting the temptation to risk further injury just to please fans. When he has stepped on the field, he has made an immediate and direct impact on his team. Hear that, Kobe? Off the field, Beckham has poured an extra mile of effort into helping others, leaving an unmatchable impact on American citizens while establishing a positive relationship with the public. Hear that, Barry? Furthermore, Beckham has behaved and done it all the right way, with proper motives and admirable integrity. Hear that, Michael and Pac?

So why all the criticism and outright hatred? David Beckham has proved to be a role model and an icon in an American sports industry that is plagued with atrocities. Journalists and fans cry foul and bloody murder when Kobe whines, Pac, Vick, and Donaghy become criminals, and Barry cheats, but they don't cheer when Beckham acts like they wished athletes would act. Not only do they refrain from praising the admirable acts of Beckham, but they go as far as to crucify his efforts and demean his attempt to strengthen Major League Soccer. Does anyone else notice an inconsistency?

The truth is, it isn't about Beckham. American bigots, fearful of soccer's potential, are doing everything they can to diminish his impact. Before Beckham even arrived, the MLS was being written off and ridiculed. For some reason, our society has created a mental block against soccer for absolutely no reason, declaring it an inferior and boring "foreign" game. The arrogance of these fans, which is championed by one-dimensional journalists and TV hosts, needs to stop.

And it will stop. This very arrogance is fading and failing against the unrelenting kindness and integrity of David Beckham, who is once again proving his critics wrong. In a sports world that is absolutely crumbling under controversy and corruption, soccer is standing tall and carrying the flame of sports integrity. For Beckham, it really is about the love of the game. Can you say that about Barry, Vick, Donaghy, and the host of criminals and selfish fools in professional American sports? So for the love of sports, show David Beckham some respect. Give soccer a chance, and shed your bitterness toward the advancement of the game. You can only knock David and the MLS for so much longer.

I encourage you to read Rogers' article posted at Yahoo! Sports, which can be found by clicking the following link: http://sports.yahoo.com/mls/news;_ylt=AkEiwp9wOBsl8MkD.BqW43Q5nYcB?slug=ro-beckham081707&prov=yhoo&type=lgns

Let's Go Fishing

One week later, the rush and enthusiasm generated from last week's adventures have yet to wear off. Just as I had expected, the fault of taking such a spectacular trip so early in the summer season has made any of my following adventures tame in comparison. Yet, as the days pass by, the southern heat slowly works to weather away my memory of that larger-than-life week, and the flatland of southeast Virginia has become the centerpiece of my latest adventures.

So after spending the first half of the week climbing mountains and jumping off bridges, Cain and I decided we were going to try our luck at fishing and crabbing, a promising adventure given our proximity to the Atlantic Ocean, James River, and the surrounding waterways of Hampton Roads. The new adventure presented the opportunity to catch species of fish never seen before by our Midwestern fishing gear, and the promise of reeling in a catch of saltwater descent that would be heavier than any fish we could have caught in Wisconsin.

Our first real shot at the saltwater prizes hosted in the Chesapeake Bay came on the grounds of First Landing State Park, in Virginia Beach. We were hardly equipped with the right saltwater gear and garb, but our anticipation of what was to come overwhelmed our pride, enabling us to walk into the on-site bait shop with our tails between our legs, seeking any available help. To our comfort, help happened to be waiting for a pair of rooks as ourselves before we even arrived...

Her name was Judy, "Miss Judy" as she insisted to be called. Miss Judy was an older woman, but lively, unbelievably kind, and eager to help. She told us stories of fishing trips on her husband's boat, pointed to fish she had caught and mounted on the walls in her shop, and spoke with us as if we had been friends for years. Certainly, not even southern sweet tea could be as sweet as Miss Judy. Miss Judy made us feel right at home, as if we weren't tourists with out a clue in the world. She informed us that we didn't need the heavy expensive stuff, and stepped out from behind her counter to pull some gear off the shelves for us. The gear included a bucket, crab trap, some saltwater leaders, hooks, squid, and chicken.

"That's it?"

That was it. About $20 worth of gear later, and we were ready to hit the beach and begin terrorizing the Chesapeake Bay with our mastery of fishing under Miss Judy's blessing. She tipped us off where to drop our lines and lay our trap, and we were off.

Let me begin first with the crabbing. We proudly waltzed out into the water maybe 40 yards with our newly purchased, chicken neck loaded crab trap, hoping to get as close as possible to the pile of old wooden posts Miss Judy had referred us to. We could only get so far because the water quickly ran up to our necks, so we dropped the trap where we could and wandered back to shore to wait the recommended 15 minutes for unsuspecting crabs to find their way to our bait.

In the meantime, we strung up some fishing poles again as Miss Judy had recommended, along with the squid she pulled out of her freezer, and thus began our first official saltwater fishing experience. We hadn't a clue what we were doing, but it felt good. There was a certain pride and joy to shore fishing like this, and with a satisfying tone I said to myself, "Man, I could get used to this."

But before I could get too used to the whole game, Cain was already running back into the water to track down our first victim of the day. Apparently, curiosity had won some sort of battle with patience in Cain, and he did what I was dying to do: check our crab trap. As I followed him into the water, he swam ahead and pulled our trap out of the water. VIC-TO-RY! He held up the trap, and sure enough, there was our first crab. That was a proud moment to say the least.

We walked back to shore, and struggled to find a way to get our new friend into the bucket that would later become his site of his unfortunate demise. After some poking and prodding, some unsuccessful attempts to strike our crab into obedience, I just dumped him out of the trap into the bucket, shaking it until he could hang on no more. And that was the mark of success, our first catch, and the birth of a new hobby.

Crabbing is an absolute blast, as it is extremely cheap, easy, and exciting. And although I have not eaten any of my catches, I'm told it is unbelievably sweet and quite a culinary reward to bring home some fresh crab. You can get everything you need for $12, trap and bait included, and begin dropping it anywhere you think you can find crab. It is a great way to pass the afternoon, spend time with family, or feel better about yourself when you can't catch any fish on your expensive fishing pole. Which reminds me...

We couldn't catch a darn thing. An older man just 20 yards down from us, had pulled a blue fish out of the water to our encouragement. "There are fish out here," we kept telling each other. "If he got one, we can get one." Apparently the man thought the same, as he came over to check on us. Apparently, despite feeling like pros already, we didn't look like it.

The man came over, and showed us how to better bait our hooks. We had basically packed squid guts on our hooks, which the man said the fish don't want. Makes sense, now that I think about it. I wouldn't want any guts, so why would they? He showed us how to cut strips out of the squid's exterior, leaving the guts and heads behind. With a newfound inspiration and encouragement, Cain and I cut away at our squid to prepare for the real domination to begin... Unfortunately, however, it never came.

We still never caught anything.

But when the day was all said and done, it was an outstanding finish to an exciting week. A new hobby was born in crabbing, and a renewed addiction to fishing surfaced. We would go out again the next day, this time to the Eastern Shore, where we would catch more crabs, and Cain managed to pull a very junior black drum out of the bay. Now that I am thoroughly addicted to these activities, you can expect some fishing reports, crabbing tips, and anything else I can think of that you might find helpful. Just be warned, you start crabbing and fishing, it'll take your life over. Humor me... before you know it, you'll be hooked too.

2 vs 1: The James River Foot Bridge

Indescribable as jumping 50 feet into water is, here goes my best shot. After completing the near four mile hike that morning, both Mike and I were exhausted. We stopped at a gas station and picked up our victory drink as soon as we could. We drank orange soda. We got on the road for our roughly two hour drive to the bridge. There was a certain air of excitement, and trust me there had to be because both of us were drained. So after an hour of driving, I gave the wheel to Mike because I could hardly keep focused on the road. He got us there safely and we geared up for the jump.

Here is a snapshot of my thought process: Wow, that's high. I want to jump. I hope I don't chicken out. Where's my shoes? I want more orange soda. Wow, that's high. I hope the water isn't cold. I've never done anything like this. I hope we get a sweet picture. Wow, that's high...

So after keeping it cool we approached the bridge with great courage. Think Apollo 13 when they're boarding the spaceship. As we approached the jump spot, we saw a group of younger kids jumping from the bridge. We stopped to take some pictures (featured below), and continued on. After taking off the shirt, shoes, and cowardice we were standing next to our 50 ft opponent.

I looked at Mike and he asked if I wanted to start on the lower level of the bridge like these kids were doing. I told him that we would end up jumping from the top, so we should just start there. We both mounted the top beam, and got ready to roll. Took a good long look at each other and then down at our landing zone. I told Mike to count it off. 3....2....1....

Here i would like to interject and apologize for the recent use of a journalistic cliche. The slow countdown in print never really works, and really seems to be overrated. The sports version of this is Christian Laettner, Ryan Leaf, Darko Milicic, or any body else that looks great on paper but never really pans out. The countdown just doesn't seem effective unless you're the one that uses it. Sorry for the interjection, but all that to say that, like the Grizzlies and Darko, given the right situation I still believe in that little number/ellipse combination.

... In the air is an incredible feeling. There is no control to be had over the next few moments of your life. You're hitting that water weather you like it or not, but there is no time to think about any of that. All you can think is wow, I'm in the air and I'm going fast. Then there is the water and you're in it. Really a fantastic feeling to surface. There is a feeling like you just beat something. Like you're bigger than that bridge and like the river owes you something.

We spent the rest of the afternoon jumping from the bridge about 5 or 6 times and playing with a really cool rope swing (also featured below). You would run forward on this cement block under the bridge and swing out over the river on the rope. It feels like a summer movie.

The experience was something I can never forget and has wet my appetite for something bigger and more extreme. If you're ever in West Virginia and you want to test your courage, take the jump.

McAfee's Knob 2007-07-15

McAfee's Knob Trail Report: Over the years, I have spent most of my breaks from school dreaming up camping trips to remote rivers and mountains, seeking out the most beautiful and sometimes challenging encounters with nature that I could find. Finally, I was able to realize my dream for an intense and breathtaking experience with nature at McAfee's Knob in Catawba, VA. The fact that the climb to the Knob, the most photographed spot on the Appalachian Trail, was so strenuous is what turns a breathtaking experience into a story. It is because I had never hiked with a pack before, to such high elevation even more, that I could have a story to narrate such unexplainable pictures that you see at the end of this post.

Upon arriving at the parking lot on VA-311, I could hardly wait to get on the trail. The drive along VA-311 into Catawba (near Roanoke) was like something out of a car commercial, as the road quite dramatically winds through the mountains. Intense grades and twists actually make it a daunting yet adolescently enjoyable task, certainly whetting one's appetite for the climb that is to come. Cain and I quickly packed our things (too quickly as we would later find out), strapped on our packs, and headed across the road to an immediately breathtaking stone staircase.

The hike did in fact start out as a breathtaking experience. Only thing is, it wasn't breathtaking because of its beauty. It was just down right exhausting, and just a hundred yards in, we were spent. Huffing and puffing, discussing how we were out of shape flat-landers, we reached the registration board and officially began our trip along the AT. We took a brief moment to read a few notes in the registration journal, signed our names, and moved along. The wonder of the view we were soon to achieve was so enticing that nothing was going to hold our attention for very long until we arrived at our final destination.

The hike continued to be quite strenuous, yet we walked at a very brisk pace. Each of us had about 30-40 pounds on our back, which very quickly became annoying up the steep trails that would eventually take us to 3200 ft elevation. Although, the weight was bearable and satisfying. There was something pure and authentic about carrying all our gear on our backs and spending the night on the mountain. I actually drew encouragement as we passed other people without packs; they looked at us with awe and they seemed impressed with our desire to hike with all that just to sleep up the mountain. In fact, most people gave us encouragement as we passed and commended us for our efforts. My pride swelled, and I felt like a true outdoorsman, a real mountain man and trail expert, when in reality I was just an exhausted flat-lander who was too stubborn to accept anything less than the most extreme way of experiencing McAfee's Knob.

Along the way, we encountered a variety of wildlife, including lizards, vultures, caterpillars, and deer. There were wild berries, deep forest, and intimidating rock slabs that were so dominant that footbridges had to be built over their steep grade to allow safe passing. We stopped a number of times for water and photos, but still managed to walk at a brisk pace. It only ended up taking us about 2 hours to get to the top, which in my mind is impressive for a few first-timers climbing 1200 ft over 3.5 miles with up to 40 pounds on our backs.

As we approached the highly anticipated moment of victory atop McAfee's Knob, the trail became extremely rocky and steep. Loose rock on the painfully steep trail made walking difficult, and we were entering a realm of exhaustion. Yet the drive to make it to the top was overpowering, and after a painful final few hundred feet, a clearing emerged. A sign confirmed our suspicion of accomplishment: McAfee Knob 3197 ft. We were there.

The view from the Knob was unbelievable to say the least. We threw off our packs (as we had been wishing to do for about the last 2 miles), finished off a water bottle, and dangled our feet over the cliffs we had just conquered. The view was unreal, and I couldn't believe what was before me. One thing was apparent: pictures were not going to tell the real story of what McAfee's Knob really looks like. We sat in silence, in awe of the spectacle. Vultures flew over the ridges ahead, and birds sang through the valley like nature's own orchestra. It was a sight to behold, to sit above the ridges, above the tress, and even above the birds' song. There was plenty of room along the overlook to pace up and down, catching a glimpse of the most spectacular view from every angle we could. In just a moment, all of the treacherous walking had suddenly become worth it.

After falling in love with the Catawba Valley below and the unbelievable view, we decided to press on and continue exploring our way to our campsite. We had plenty of time as the hike didn't take as long as expected, so we figured later in the afternoon would hold a return trip to the brilliance of the Knob. After our descent down through Devil's Kitchen, that idea quickly faded away. We had heard the .9 mi trek down the other side of the mountain was steep, but we had no idea it was this steep. The trail was extremely narrow, and thus required more precise passing than before. The path was loose, which meant one wrong step and you were sliding down a slippery slope of dry pine needles and similar forest carpeting that blanketed the mountainside. It was .9 miles of switchbacks, stepping over fallen trees, and clinging to tree branches around difficult turns.

Finally arriving at our campsite, we were pleased to see a picnic table, fire pit, and home for our tent for the night. Once again we eagerly threw off our packs and collapsed on the table. One thing was apparent before anything else: we weren't going back up that trail again tonight. Our feet were sore and our legs shot, we were hungry and thirsty. It was time to set up camp.

After scarfing down some water and energy bars, we elected to first set up our tent. This was a comical experience, not because it was a disaster trying to set it up, but because once it was up, we couldn't tell if it was the actual tent or one of those model tents they put on the store shelves to show you what a life-size version would look like. It was that small. We decided to deal with that issue later though, as it was now nap time. Cain found his way to the tent while I decided to leave my gear with him and hike back up to the Knob.

I couldn't resist. As I sat there and stared into the deep forest, I heard the Knob calling me out. It was such an enticing view that I had to ignore my blisters and sore legs in favor of one more glimpse of greatness. I fought my way back up through Devil's Kitchen, returning to the Knob with great satisfaction. This time, I had it all to myself. The sun was setting and the breeze was chilling. It was almost creepy being there alone, but it was a new experience in itself. I'm glad I trekked to the spot by myself, because it offered an intimacy with the experience that is quite memorable.

Later that night, after Cain's nap and my solitary excursion at the Knob, it was finally dinnertime. We cooked at our campsite as the risk of a bear visit was apparently slim, and we were too tired to go anywhere else anyway. We warmed up some food on the propane stove, and enjoyed some stew and barbecue sandwiches. Although, we had left our forks in the car when we rushed ourselves onto the trail upon arrival, so I had to cut the bottoms off some empty waterbottles to function as spoons. The meal was satisfying, and after cleaning our mess we lit a fire in the fire ring and waited for darkness to fall.

We couldn't see any stars as we were in thick woods, and for the most part it was pitch black outside. There were no bugs, which made it easy to sit around the fire and peer into the darkness of the woods. The wind was picking up, so we let the fire cool and headed off to bed, jamming ourselves in our miniature tent. The designated tent site happened to be on a slight hill, which made sleeping even harder, but I think we were so tired, we managed to get at least some rest.

The next morning, we were awakened by a deer walking through our campsite. It was searching for food apparently, and was comfortable enough with our presence that it wasn't startled when we woke up and poked out heads out to watch it. The deer looked back at us, then back down to the ground to mind his business. We sat for about 2-3 minutes watching the deer, before it finally walked off disappointed that we hadn't left any food for its taking.

Breakfast was quick, we cooked our remaining sausages (which we had hung in a bag off a tree 50 yards away from out campsite during the night) and ate an energy bar. Then, after cleaning up and making sure we left nothing behind, we once again hit the trail. The walk up through Devil's Kitchen was once again breath taking, in the most challenging sense once again. It was painful and unrewarding, offering just one small overlook of a nearby mountain where trees had been cleared for a powerline. However, we knew there was one reward at the end: McAfee's Knob, this time an early morning encounter.

The view in the morning was twice as nice. Fog rolled over the hills and elegantly highlighted their depth. The sun peaked over a ridge, and the birds once again played their tune, animating the valley. It was now that I realized this was something that everyone has to see, not matter how difficult they find the hike. We sat, dangling our legs over the cliff and savoring every second with sheer joy. There was a sense of completeness sitting there, a oneness with God and sense of accomplishment for our toils. Before leaving, we captured a few more photos of ourselves on the Knob and offered our final farewells to the most beautiful thing I've ever seen not named Laura Trotta.

As we began our hike down the mountain, we couldn't help but feel an incredible sense of victory in the air. We were the only ones on the mountain, the morning was cool, and we had just survived our first AT camping trip while getting to see one of Virginia's most beautiful sites. The hike down was hard, although not hard like it was coming up. The way up was a take your breath away, punch you in the stomach and stub your toe hard. This descent was brutal on our already tired legs, more just wearing than anything.

Within a mile of reaching VA-311, where our car was parked, we finally ran into someone else. A local man from the Appalachian Trail Conservancy was just hitting the trail, looking for fallen trees that may have covered the path during last night's wind. We sat and chatted for about 10 minutes, and his company was quite pleasant. He offered us each an apple, which at that point was much needed as we were out of water and hungry, and he also tipped us off on some lesser known views that we should check out along the trail next time. Sharing this conversation with this man added to the mystique of the trip, as we were able to experience the camaraderie of the AT while discussing our adventures on the trail.

After our conversation with the kind gentleman, we finally were able to finish our return trip. We signed out at the registration board, confirming our safe return and reporting our great night in the woods. It was here that every sentiment described above became official: I was now a successful outdoorsman and a trail aficionado, confirmed in the record book kept at the registration board. McAfees Knob was now my friend, and I was a part of the AT community.

Nickel Creek 2007-07-14

Ashland, Kentucky was the site of my fourth Nickel Creek concert, and possibly my last. The band is taking a break after their 2007 farewell tour, so I had to make the seven hour drive to little Ashland, just south of Charleston, WV. An old favorite of mine, Glen Phillips, was opening for Nickel Creek, so it seemed as if the perfect storm of events had created the potential for an epic concert. It was Kentucky, known as bluegrass country. It was Glen Phillips, a Nickel Creek classic act. And finally, it was a farewell show. I wasn't going to miss all that...

However, I did. Some of it, at least. Putting the fate of my concert enjoying experience on the shoulders of Google Maps was a mistake I'll never make again, as Cain and I found ourselves to southern Virginia instead of northern Kentucky, on an accidental two hour detour. We are unsure of where exactly the mistake was made, but it was in fact a painful one: finally arriving in Ashland an hour late, we had missed Glen Phillips' set. This was quite an awful feeling, as I had been dying to see Glen play live for years. At this point I thought to myself, "Nickel Creek better put on one heck of a show to make up for our misfortune and erase such a blemish from my memory." Later on, that once depressing thought became a dream come true.

We dropped into our seats during an intermission between sets, and joined the sold out Paramount Theater crowd in a frenzy. The chatty crowd had taken on the image of a grade school lunch room, buzzing with a chaos of chatter. We, however, sat silent regretting our late arrival. Ten minutes would pass before Nickel Creek came on to stage and enriched our lives like they have done so many times before. Finally, the much anticipated show had begun.

Early on in the set, the band was on fire. I was especially impressed with about the first four songs, in which Nickel Creek seemed determine to play harder and better than ever before. They were hitting notes with such intensity and perfection that the act swept me off my feet. I was locked in on the miraculous performance, and realized there was something special in the air tonight. Each song had a mysterious intro of musical creativity only Nickel Creek could dream up, and they left me on the edge of my seat as I wondered what would come next.

Later in the set, however, the band seemed to fall into their regular routine of playing Nickel Creek classics to please the casual fan. They began to lose the intense luster the first half of the set offered, yet much of the crowd watched with great satisfaction. Here I began to understand why the band is taking a break: the same old was just getting old, and the lack of passion was reflected in the music. I could tell the difference, and began to sympathize with the band.

Mid-set banter, which was some of the best I have heard, seemed to reflect this sentient. Thile jokingly mentioned how he didn't care what the fans thought of the show because the band didn't have to worry about motivating fans to come back again, they were after all done touring and filling seats was no longer a concern. Although he was joking, one could tell there was some truth behind his humor. The band's banter was much more relaxed, honest, and open than I had seen in the past. They seemed to be enjoying the liberty of not having to worry about what they said. That was for me nice to see, and something I felt considerably worth noting for any Nickel Creek fan.

The second set, that being the encore, picked back up a little in intensity and excitement, but it still lacked the sheer musical madness of the first half of the first set. When the encore set was all said and done, I was thoroughly impressed and satisfied with yet another top notch Nickel Creek performance. The crowd was less responsive and grateful than I have seen in the past, as the cheering and vocal appreciation was short lived. The Ashland fans were less than impressive and hardcore for the most part, but altogether they sold the place out, Nickel Creek was fantastic once again, and I had a great time.

It was after the show, however, that really made this trip a memorable concert. As we waited outside the band's bus hoping to catch some autographs, Sara came out to take pictures and sign autographs. There were more people than I have ever seen waiting outside with us, but we were quickly able to catch a quick photo with her and say hello. Almost immediately after our memorable picture with the lovable Sara Watkins, her brother and Nickel Creek guitarist had began playing with Glen Phillips in the parking lot! This is where the night really became epic.

Right in front of me, within an arms reach, was Glen Phillips, one of my all time favorite musicians and the man I drove 9 hours only to miss due our late arrival. He had his guitar and a jar of moonshine and cherries, playing an acoustic set with Sean. After all that worry and sorrow for missing his set, there he was looking back at me with his guitar singing into the warm Kentucky night. He and Sean were just jamming, playing whatever they felt like, including some of Glen's classics. Soon enough Chris and Sara joined in, and the epic night became a dream. For the first time ever, I was watching Nickel Creek with Glen Phillips, all acoustic, playing right in front of me. They were no longer performing, they were just enjoying the night and the last few months together on the road.

The parking lot acoustic set was unplanned, as the band took requests from the crowd. Even the band's guitar tech came out with a few beers, danced in the moonlight, and played a song under the peer pressure of the hilarious Glen Phillips. It was quite an honor and pleasure to see all the guys together just having fun, really enjoying the music and each other's company. The only thing that made me sad to see was people kept on being rude and asking Chris to play songs he told them he didn't want to play. Sort of mocking someone who kept requesting Lighthouse, Chris played some backwards version of the song and said, "There, you happy?" Then, another time, while playing Green and Grey Chris just stopped playing and said, "I forgot the next verse." When someone started singing it and asked if he remembered now, he said, "Nope, still don't remember. How about no more Nickel Creek songs." It was an unfortunate reality of how selfish fans had challenged the integrity and joy of the music, and helped me further understand why the band has decided to take a break.

At the end of the day, Cain and I walked away with our most memorable Nickel Creek concert ever. We caught a fantastic set at the Paramount, and then got to live the dreamy experience of a personal acoustic Nickel Creek jam with Glen Phillips and friends added to the mix of brilliance. This will be a night I will remember forever, especially because of the parking lot show. It was a great way to end years of enjoying Nickel Creek's music and their appreciation for their fans. Hopefully other bands will take a note from Nickel Creek's story and begin to make their fans their friends, just as Chris, Sean, Sara, and Glen did with us that memorable night of July 14 2007.

Cold Comfort Band And Summerfest

This weekend trip back home was comparable only to seeing the Rockets bench in 2005. For those who don’t know how exciting of an experience that was, Patrick Ewing was stationed directly next to Yao Ming, and if that wasn’t enough, when I was fortunate enough to see this roughly ten feet away Ervin Johnson was getting his legs stretched out. Only in America my friends (Honorable mentions on that bench: “Skip-to-my-Lou”, T-Mac, and Luther Head. I’m absolutely shocked that the universe is still functioning after that night). Seeing my parents, brothers and friends was the break I needed.
The music started my first night in town. The venue was an alley behind Whelan’s Coffee and Cream. For a local show the venue gets a solid “A” for atmosphere. Serving great coffee and ice cream, the locally owned shop created a truly captivating vibe. Not all types of music would hit a home run here, but The Cold Comfort Band certainly did. This 8 piece ensemble from the Lake Country Area of southeastern Wisconsin had me feeling it. Think solid indie rock thrown in a blender with vocals on a trapeze and horns playing hooky from band camp and looking for an adventure. The mix is awesome.
That night, the band made the venue and the venue made the band. It was the kind of night to remember my younger days by. Great coffee and great local music in an alley. If you get a chance to see these guys, go for it. If you get a chance to stop by Whelan’s, go for it. If you get the chance to see them together, don’t miss it.

The following Sunday I made the trip to Summerfest. For those who don’t know, Summerfest is an annual music party in Milwaukee. It’s huge. There is live music from 2:30 PM until about 12:30 AM on a bunch of stages for 11 days. They bring in a lot of really big artists too. This year there was a really good sampling from all over the place. Panic! At the Disco, Toby Keith, Brian McKnight, and Dashboard Confessional were just a few of the awesome acts to be found over some of the days.
I caught the last day of the festival, and it was a great day to go. We started the day seeing Plumb Loco. Plumb Loco is a local Wisconsin band with world class talent. They keep an electric atmosphere up for the entirety of the show with great personality and musicianship. With a track record of bringing the house down for over 30 years, they are as electric as ever.
After the opening show I decided to check out the festival. Most festivals are too crowded, the food is over-priced, and people generally smell bad. These complaints hold up, but with a little stick to it, this is no reason to stay home. Think amusement park with no rides and great music. While walking around, I stumbled upon a tiki hut stage with some pretty good jams going down. Shortly after, an Elvis impersonator took stage on the mini tiki hut. This was nothing short of epic, and I’m sorry that you missed it, but Elvis covers in a tiki hut is something I will not soon forget. After some lounging around on the rocks by Lake Michigan and an ear of roasted corn, The evening’s headliners were getting ready to start.
For the headlining show, I saw three different bands: Brian McKnight, G. Love and the Special Sauce, and Lupe Fiasco. All three were good shows, but Lupe Fiasco tore the roof off of the outdoor venue. We’ll call it a high energy hip-hop show with all the makings of a great concert. I also have to hand it to the Milwaukee hip-hop scene for making a killer atmosphere for this emerging artist. If you don’t know Lupe Fiasco, get to know him.
G. Love was good too, good jam but didn’t stand out all that much. Brian McKnight set it off as well. You can tell he was a seasoned veteran that had the crowd the whole way.
Good shows, and the atmosphere was great for a festival. I wouldn’t go to Summerfest to see a band I was on the fence about, but I wouldn’t stay away from the show just because it’s at a festival.
After all was said and done, it was a great trip home. Next update: Cain AND Mike reviewing Nickel Creek and Glen Phillips. Oh snap, its bananas.

A More Urban Affair

Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Cain Anderson, the co-conspirator for this blog. I'm much obliged to be invited to share my adventures with all of you.
I intend to bring you my take on life through the lens of adventure. Adventures of both a grandiose scale and of a more common nature. Adventure is proving to be more of an attitude or approach than an event, so it looks like I'll be facing down a lot of adventure.
My latest adventure has been my trip home to Wales, WI. I know Wales may not seem exceedingly exciting, but there is plenty to keep me, and in turn you, entertained.
But, I'd hate to get ahead of myself, so I'll begin where I started at 6:00 AM on July 6th (that was last Friday). Coincidentally my problems started just about then. Have you ever poured yourself a big bowl of cereal in a ravenous breakfast rage only to find out that all the milk has been wasted on everyone else's cereal? It's the same feeling you get when you forget to "shake well" the orange juice before pouring and you have a whole glass of orange tasting water that you can't justify pouring out because, well, you brought this on yourself and why should the orange juice suffer? The worst part about that feeling is that you know the rest of the OJ will be too strong because you just messed up the concentrate to water mixture like a pro. Truly heart wrenching. You can't get a good glass of the stuff until you pop the cap on the next carton. Well, missing your flight is that feeling on HGH (that's human growth hormone, the stuff that home runs are made of).
My flight was scheduled to take off at 6:00 AM, and me waking up then just didn't cut it. So after a minute or two of scrambling and freaking out while checking my flight info like it was the refrigerator to my missing milk, i decided to eat my proverbial cereal dry.
After my great roommate and his dog got me to the airport, i bid them fairwell and told them that I would be able to figure it out and that they shouldn't let it ruin their day, because I wouldn't let it ruin mine. Then, following a humbling discussion about my inability to wake up in the morning, i sat down to do some word puzzles, because nothing is more frustrating that the "easy word puzzle" books. Can anyone actually complete these? Or is this some sick joke by the failures that create these things. Too close for missiles; switching to guns, or in this case Bon Appetit.
A successful trip to the airport is defined by three things:
1. Being able to avoid the tourist traps known as news stands. You probably already predicted my utter failure at this from the last paragraph. Also bought a Golf magazine.
2. A good snack on the flight. This is critical. I do OK with the pretzels, I like peanuts more, but those cookies on Midwest Express are the definition of in-flight baller status. I fell asleep on my flight far before I could get a snack or a drink, so this flight couldn't pass this test either, although again my fault.
3. Decent conversation with the other passengers. I usually try to spark up a conversation with my fellow travelers. This time, however, I happened to notice that I was sitting next to the "annoying guy" on the plane. There is always one. If you can't find one, its you. I found him, and fell asleep. He liked to make conversation with all the people on board about the weather, and his golf game. Thinking that my magazine may offer up means for discussion, I went with the frustrating puzzles for roughly 13 seconds.

So with my flight a failure completely, I got in my Dad's truck and went home to see everybody that makes me happy. And, all of this before lunch.

I'm sure you're as tired of reading as I am of typing. I'll tell you all about after lunch and the amazing Cold Comfort Band next time.

Cain Anderson

Quick Update

Just a little update. I was back in Wisconsin for a week, spent the day with my wonderful girlfriend in Chicago, and am now back in Williamsburg. My camera has been MIA lately due to some dead batteries, but I should get it going again soon.

This afternoon, however, I wish I did have my camera. While biking the Colonial Parkway along the James River, I encountered two bald eagles fishing in the river. It was absolutely incredible watching them hunt and fly around just over my head. Hopefully soon I'll get back there with a camera and a full report. Nonetheless, the James in Williamsburg shows some real adventure promise...

Mountain Orientation

Well after spending the last few days relaxing on the beach in Virginia Beach (and a quick trip into North Carolina's outer banks), we decided a trip to Charlottesville was in store. The last week has been exhausting, and living out of a hotel is certainly getting old. Dad and I have been running back and forth from Portsmouth to Norfolk to Virginia Beach, so a trip to the mountains sounded promising.

Since getting here, Charlottesville is quickly becoming one of my favorite places around. The University of Virginia boasts a breathtaking campus, as it is rich in history and culture. Charlottesville is a very vibrant town, and it seems to encompass the lifestyle of those living within its boundaries. It is a town with incredible character, and is very easy to fall in love with. I have a feeling that each time I visit, it is going to be harder and harder to leave.

However, most of the pictures posted here are from much smaller towns, including Lovington, Scottsville, and similar towns hardly appearing on the map. Many of the pictures are from orchards just off the highway, which happened to feature some of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever seen. The pictures hardly capture the depth of these orchards, but I promise their beauty does not fall short of my claim. (And just for the record, we only touched on the outskirts of the mountains. The Appalachians boast a whole different level of intensity further West of our expedition.)

As we drove through small mountain towns and passed by the incredible views, I began to wonder how differently people would view the world if they were able to experience these landscapes. There is not doubt in my mind that if all of America was like this, or at least all of America were able to experience it, our nation would be much more patriotic on the whole. I found myself to be overwhelmed by a certain pride for my country after learning of its beauty and purity.

Furthermore, the simple inspiration of these landscapes is powerful. As you drive through the mountains, orchards, and forests, the landscapes and their history seem to breathe life into you. With each town that we explored, I found myself desiring to see more. I began to realize that there is so much more to life than my troubles and everyday routine, and I've got to get out there and see it! I found myself wanting to live longer just so I could have more time to explore it all, in turn leaving me with a desire to live healthier. I figure, the healthier I am, the more life I have to breathe, the more of God's creation I get to see. It is a strange addiction and inspiration, but I am willing to bet you will find the same joy in your adventures.

My hope in sharing these pictures is that those not so close to the beautiful landscapes of our historic land would find inspiration in what I am sharing. Hopefully, it will open your mind not just to new images, but to new ideas and perspectives on life. This is a country worth exploring, one to be proud of, and it is up to you to live a lifestyle than will someday enable you to do so.

Civil War Weekend

Life continues to move at an incredibly fast pace, and I can confidently say this "immersion week" in Virginia has been an unbelievable experience. Over the past week, we have done and seen some spectacular things. However, I don't think any of them were approached with the anticipation of this next adventure. This time, we were going back in time to the most remembered era of American history - an event that defind Southern culture as we know it today. This weekend, AdventureVA was all about Civil War Weekend.

Civil War Weekend is an annual event hosted by Pamplin Historical Park in Petersburg, Virginia, and destiny had in store for Petersburg to be the soil for my first ever Civil War reenactment. After reading the book "Confederates in the Attic", there was nothing I wanted to do more since getting here than experience a hardcore Civil War reenactment. I had read about the legendary stories of the most "way hardcore" reenactor, Rob Hodge, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to Petersburg to embrace my Civil War craving.

Arriving at the park was at first a bit disappointing, however. There was a very small crowd, and the event looked more like a tourist act than it did the hardcore reenactments I had read about. The crowd was small, and the Confederate encampments were thin. The Union encampments were nowhere to be found.

We did end up seeing a demonstration, among a few other things. I don't need to go into extravagant detail of the day itself, but I do want to make note of the fact that there is a significant difference between a demostration and a reenactment. Demonstrations usually contain only a small handful of park rangers shooting a few cannons and guns. A reenactment contains sometimes hundreds of reenactors, from both armies, acting out a battle with the integrity of historical preservation in mind. So when you decide to take on your first Civil War experience, just make sure you are seeing a reenactment instead of a demonstration.

Reenactment versus demonstration set aside, the demo was still actually pretty cool. The park rangers-turned Confederate soldiers shot cannons and rifles, which was exciting in itself, and it left me salivating over the chance to see what a real reenactment would look like. Guess I will just have to do my homework next time... but you can bet this won't be the last time I'm drooling over a Civil War battlefield.

My favorite part of the day was when we went to see the 97th Regimental String Band play. They had a bass, guitar, mandolin, and banjo, and played traditional Civil War songs that were normally heard around Confederate camps. Now of course, I'm naturally going to love the string band more because of the mandolin. But these guys were more than just musicians, they were true Civil War entertainers. They acted quite well in character, telling a number of Civil War era jokes (OK, so they were kind of cheesy by today's standards) and keeping the mood humuorous. They also worked hard to encourage the crowd to sing along, as many of the songs were familiar. Overall, seeing these guys was a blast, the music was actually good, and I think walking away from the experience, I'm a little turned on to Civil War string bands. Maybe I'll try and catch another show sometime down the road...

Well after all the Civil War Weekend festivities came to a close (there were other things we saw, but again I'll let the pictures tell the story), we wandered to the more permenant exhibits at the park. The museum at Pamplin is actually outstanding, and free. There is a wonderful walk through tour in which you are given headphones, which auto-play audio narration in your ears when you walk up to certain exhibits. That way, you only hear the things you want to hear. The best part is, when you aren't listening to a narration, the headphones play the sounds of a Civil War camp, which really makes you feel like you have traveled in time. I had a blast just sitting around the exhibits, and the museum does an outstanding job of really making the tour an experience as opposed to a traditional history lesson.

The best part of the museum was a short part of the audio tour, in which you enter a virtual battlefield. You walk through what a haunted house type area, where you are walking through deep forest and into a battlefield in which the armies have engaged in combat. As you walk through this "haunted house," air cannons shoot at you, explosions go off, and the ground shakes. You can literally see the flash of a shot, feel the bullet whizz past your head, and feel the ground shake as men around you fall. I have never seen such an impressive exhibit of a battlefield, and this alone is worth your trip to Petersburg.

In conclusion, it was a fun day at Pamplin, despite the fact that the reenactment wasn't hardcore. The part was beautiful, well preserved, and very interesting and educational. And at the end of the day, I'm even more fascinated with Civil War culture. Just remember, Yankees beware: the war may be over, but Pamplin is still Confederate territory.

Old Crow Medicine Show - Norva

Old Crow Medicine Show : Live @ The Norva June 21, 2007: The barn is still burning from last Wednesday. I would have written my review earlier, but the coals were still hot and most of my days were spent daydreaming about my time at the Norva. In the midst of my awestruck imaginary recreation of my first ever OCMS show, I really had little time to sit down and tell you about it. But without further adieu, here is AdventureVA's account of an Old Crow Medicine Show encounter at the Norva. And I promise, that's the last time I'll speak in the third person.

Now let me start with the Norva, since not only was this my first Old Crow concert, but it was also my first time at the Norva. In fact, it was my first night in Norfolk altogether. But that's a different story. The Norva is a wonderful venue in downtown Norfolk, humble on the outside but a wonderland on the inside. The Norva was quite dark before the stage was occupied, but to my delight it was smoke free and decorated quite well once Old Crow came out. There are some tables and seating stage-left on the main floor, and an upper balcony with more of the same above. You'll find a couple of bars on both levels, but they were far enough off to the side that I never found them to be of any annoyance.

Before the show, people were very friendly and willing to chat mostly about Bonnaroo, Floyd Fest, and nearby venues. To my surprise, there seemed to be a fair number of people in attendance who were also there to see OCMS for the first time. The show itself didn't start until about 45 minutes after the scheduled launch, so we definitely had enough time to meet and greet. It was a late arriving crowd, which isn't something you really see happening back in the Midwest. It was a little frustrating, but the guys more than made up for their late appearance when their performance.

The show itself was honestly the best concert I have ever seen. In fact, in order to make sure I wasn't just on a high from the concert, I waited to contemplate my review until the buzz had wore off. Four days later, I still think it was the best concert I have ever seen. Check that, it was the best concert I have ever seen. Very much to my surprise, it even passed some great memories of classic and mind-blowing Nickel Creek performances.

The band's energy and enthusiasm was unbelievable, as they went from one song to the next without any hesitation. By time it was all said and done, I was honestly surprised that none of them passed out from exhaustion. The set list was one of the best I have seen from OCMS, including two full sets and a feverishly memorable encore. Some of my personal favorites included New Virginia Creeper, Are You From Dixie?, Wagon Wheel, Down Home Girl, and the Tell It To Me finale.

It is always hard to put a band's performance into words when it is as magical a show as the boys put on at the Norva, so let me take a moment to share my thoughts on the crowd at the Norva. For the most part, everyone was real nice and easy going. There was plenty of dancing, and no one seemed able to sit still at any time during the show. My only complaint was that by the end of the show, an army of sloppy-drunk high schoolers had pushed their way to the stage and proceeded to soak us all in beer while attempting to dance. Around the same time, someone also threw beer onto the stage at the band, and Ketch didn't seem to appreciate that. But all in all, the crowd was a shocking mix of people and ages, and was quite tolerable.

Gauging the reaction of more regular OCMS fans, it sounds like the Norva show was one of the finest of late, and I couldn't agree more. This was hands down the best concert I have ever seen, OCMS has probably surpassed Nickel Creek as my all time favorite band, and I must pass my enthusiasm on to you and recommend you find yourself an OCMS show and get ready for one of the best times of your life.

Visit the oldcrowfans forum for pictures and a set list of the magical night...

Williamsburg Road Trip

Well, what started as a slow morning ended up being a long day filled with sights and smells that have me excited and curious. It was another hot day in Norfolk, and I decided to first take on the sun by going to see the Norfolk Tides play AAA baseball. They were playing the Charlotte Knights, who feature White Sox players Brian Anderson and Scott Posednik, and it was a day game, so I figured it would be a good way to spend the day. I've got a few pictures from the game (including an action shot of BA popping up, enjoy White Sox fans), and some shots from the water taxi I took over to the stadium. For you urban adventure seekers finding your way to the southeastern corridor of Virginia, I highly recommend taking the water taxi from the Portsmouth waterfront to the game. It really just adds to the experience when you are taking a boat (which only costs $1 by the way) across the Elizabeth River to see the Tides play. Although, this afternoon the baseball game ended up being an afterthought in my Thursday edition of AdventureVA...

Later in the afternoon, we ended up driving to Williamsburg where we will soon take residence. We took the road less traveled on our way in, and the adventure paid off. We passed on a stop at Jamestown in favor of driving the Colonial Parkway to our front door, and came across some beautiful shoreline on the James River that I never knew existed. You will see pictued some shots from the shore and the historic forest around it. If you are taking a trip to Jamestown or Colonial Williamsburg, make sure you pull off the tourist path and drive the Colonial Parkway until you hit the James River because this might be one of the most beautiful stops I've seen so far in southeastern Virginia.

After our stop along the James River, we headed into Colonial Williamsburg for a bite to eat at Aroma's, a small college-style cafe on the campus of William & Mary. There are plenty of small joints like this place around the campus, and you're sure to find something you enjoy here. Save one stop at an old church and cemetery dating back to the late 1700's, we also passed on the tourist trip through Colonial Williamsburg this time in favor of taking an alternate trip back to Portsmouth. Once again, taking the road less traveled ended up being the prize of the day.

We headed over to a Ferry (pictured), which takes carloads every half hour across the James River in about 13 minutes. The Ferry launch can be found on most road maps, launches from Jamestown, and is FREE. When the day was all said and done, this was one of the coolest things I have done since getting here. We got out of our car and sat at the front of the ferry, just watching the shorelines in complete shock at the beauty of it all. The cool breeze was refreshing after a long hot day, and the views of the surrounding area were breathtaking. I'll let the pictures say the rest.

Once getting back on land, we took a few detours at a state park, plantation, and some random historical sites along the way. There was a vast difference from the Williamsburg side of the river, as this side was incredibly rural and poor. I didn't have any room left on my camera to capture the images, but I hope to return and bring you a glimpse of a whole different world apart from the riches of Williamsburg. It was southern, and it was poor, but it was beautiful and full of down home country smells.

Our unplanned trip to Williamsburg ended up being very productive and fun, and the beauty of it all is far beyond words. Hopefully this narrative gives a little background on the pictures posted, but I'm going to have to recommed you experience this one yourself...

Adventure Wisconsin

Well I haven't even been here for a full day, and I already have a camera full of pictures. The ironic thing is, this is day one in Virginia, and the very first thing I have seen was all about ... Wisconsin. The USS Wisconsin, that is.

I am staying right on the water in Portsmouth, across the river from Norfolk, and decided "the other side" would be my first destination. So this morning I walked down to the riverfront in Portsmouth, paid $1 to get on a water taxi (a large ferry, pictured), and traveled across the Elizabeth River to Norfolk. It is a beautiful yet haunting sight across this river, which features a skyline filled with huge ships under construction. There are cranes everywhere, and the size of these ships is mesmerizing.

Once I reached Norfolk, I headed over to the Nauticus, which is a naval museum featuring the USS Wisconsin. Eager to get on board the large ship, which is free admission I might add, I briskly worked my way through the museum and finally stepped out on a US battleship for the first time in my life. This thing is so huge, you almost start to forget you are on a boat. The pictures I took can't even do justice to just how large this ship really is. As I worked my around the Wisconsin, my imagination started to run wild and I could begin to picture myself working the ship in its heyday. It is quite a majestic feeling hanging on to the handrails, towering over the ocean, looking down at the water below. There is almost a retired romantic feel to the whole atmosphere.

After finally tearing myself away from the USS Wisconsin, I headed inside to discover some Virginia naval history. The Nauticus museum is actually incredibly entertaining, and seemingly more "hardcore" than your regular museum. I can get easily bored at the Smithsonian's in DC, for example, as it seems their goal is simply to entertain. Here, it was clear there was no messing around. I really appreciated the dedication to history at the Nauticus. I took a few pictures of some of my favorite exhibits, which was essentially all the Civil War stuff.

I am becoming feverishly interested in the Civil War, an interest that is being fueled by a book I'm reading titled, "Confederates in the Attic." This book has changed my outlook on history, and has opened my eyes to a world of people still fighting the Civil War today. As the Civil War naval history at the Nauticus whet my appetite for more and more, I have decided that soon I need to check out some Civil War reenactments, while tracing my blood line to the "War Between the States."

This afternoon I am keeping my eye on the storms hitting the East Coast right now, which ironically are the very storms that knocked out power at home in Wisconsin the day before I flew out here. If the rain passes, I hope to take a walk through the Portsmouth Historic district (I have here a few pictures I took while just passing by), followed by a stop at the Virginia Sports Hall of Fame, also in Portsmouth. Although, regardless of the weather, tonight I'm going to see Old Crow Medicine Show at the Norva in Norfolk, which I have been looking forward to for months now...

Willis Prudhomme And Zydeco Express

The 2007 Chicago Blues Fest in Grant Park was an incredibly beautiful, four day festival filled with spectacular music and culture. The streets and stages were
absolutely packed, the weather was perfect, and the skyline backdrop was, as usual, breathtaking. Chicago is a great place to catch some live blues, and once again, this festival was no exception. I will let the pictures posted in my previous post speak for the festival vibe, because today you need to know about my top standout band for the 2007 Chicago Blues Fest.

My standout festival band from 2007 is Willis Prudhomme And Zydeco Express, who played at the Louisiana Bayou Stage. This band featured an Accordion, Bass, Guitar, Drums, and a Scrub board, which created an oddly addicting sound. It was not your traditional Chicago electric blues sound, but was full of energy, culture, and down right fun.

As I first approached the stage, which was decorated with a Louisiana-style backdrop, I was more curious than I was expecting to see a standout performance. However, the longer I stood and watched, the more I became enthralled with the atmosphere. It took only a few minutes to realize that Willis Prudhomme was not just putting on a show, he was creating an atmosphere. I couldn't help but fall in love with the vibe, and began to dance around a little myself. As the performance went on, I noticed people were beginning to pack in behind me as they fell into a similar groove.

One thing that really caught my attention was the amount of people dancing around this stage relative to the other stages. As much as I enjoyed the music, I also found myself spending a lot of time watching people dance. Even people just passing by the stage couldn't help but dance around as they walked past. I couldn't help but smile and laugh, and as these people were letting loose in the heat, I began to realize that this band was special. I thought to myself, "This is AdventureVA - this is the band I have been searching for."

It didn't take long to realize that the Louisiana culture was transcended through Willis Prudhomme and his music. Willis was not just showing his audience what Louisiana sounded like - he was inviting them to be a part of it in order to experience and enjoy it. His proposition was obviously appealing. At least for the time Willis Prudhomme And Zydeco Express was performing, I didn't just have to watch a concert, I could be a part of it.

Overall, the performance was enthusiastic and simply fun. Willis, who was on vocals, interacted with the crowd quite positively and was clearly having fun himself. I'm convinced that had not one single person showed up for their show, these guys were still going to have just as much fun and were going to jam just as hard. (And I must add, the woman making a guest appearance on the Scrub Board was gorgeous and fit right in on stage.)

This is a band that you might need to see live before falling in love with their album recordings, but I promise after seeing them in person, you will come back addicted to that Accordion sound and easy going Louisiana style. Needless to say, Willis Prudhomme's ability to transcend his culture, creativity, and enthusiasm through live music is an appeal to the AdventureVA lifestyle, and I recommend this band for a fresh and lively sound.

AdventureVA Musical Crash Course

As promised, I will be posting reviews of concerts throughout the summer with the goal of not only sharing my musical adventures, but also opening your eyes and ears to creative bands that you might not otherwise hear about. If you are tired of mainstream music and are instead interested in music with meaning, integrity, and culture, then I recommend keeping an eye on these reviews, as they should introduce you to some quality music. In fact, if you are someone who is appreciative of and interested in the quest for creative and cultural music, then I recommend bookmarking this site now because all summer long I will be conducting a search through the Appalachian Mountains for new talent and sounds.

AdventureVA is as much about a lifestyle of discovering and enjoying musical creativity as it is venturing into the wilderness to explore God's green beauty. The reviews and experiences posted here are not restricted to the Virginia region. Rather, they are dedicated to the diversity and creativity of musical culture from every corner of the globe. The goal of my search for new and culturally representative sounds is a rejection of the mainstream garbage we are spoon-fed through the media. My hope is that your eyes will in fact be opened to new ideas, sounds, and cultures through the appreciation of music, as you begin to tear away from the mediocrity of mainstream society and embrace the AdventureVA lifestyle.

Chicago Blues Fest

On Saturday June 9, we kicked off the summer concert season with a bang at the Chicago Blues Fest in Grant Park. The festival was a blast, the weather was perfect, the music was great, and the fans created a wonderful vibe. I'll be reviewing a few shows soon, but here are some pictures to enjoy in the meantime.

Trailhead

trailhead [treyl-hed]: the point at which a trail begins.

Welcome to Adventure_VA, the cyberspace trailhead to a lifestyle of adventure, integrity, and exploration. Here you can expect to find intellectual freedom and creativity, decorated with the documentation of life's adventures in the arenas of music and nature. The photos, journals, and thoughts recorded here are reflections of my own adventures, along with my friend Cain Anderson.

Adventure_VA stands for a dedicated lifestyle of adventure, with the intent to inspire and inform, all the while documenting the simple joys of music and nature. This summer will feature photos and trip reports from multiple camping and fishing trips throughout the Appalachian Trail, Great Dismal Swamp, and the Eastern Shore of Virginia. Furthermore, I will be sharing my experiences with a variety of blues, Americana, and bluegrass bands, highlighted by big names such as Nickel Creek and Old Crow Medicine Show.

For those unaware, my family is moving from Brookfield, WI to Norfolk, VA this summer. For many years I have dreamed of exploring the Appalachian Mountains and its old time southern culture, and this summer is my first real shot. Although I will be returning to Chicago in August to finish my senior year at DePaul University, we are leaving a lot of friends in the Midwest and I thought there is no better way to share my experiences in our new home than through this blog. So regardless if you are an old friend or a complete stranger, I invite you to share with me in this adventure that will surely extend beyond the borders of Virginia and begin to define a lifestyle known as Adventure_VA.