After about a 45-minute drive north of Denver, we arrived in the sleepy town of Lyons, Colorado, just outside of Longmont. The primary nexus of nightlife was Oskar Blues on the main drag in a mini-mall. Last night, Roomful of Blues had rocked the joint, and by all reports it was quite the party--even at twenty bucks a head. The club manager met us and directed us to our sleeping quarters at the quaint bed & breakfast two addresses down. Inevitably named "The Lyons Den" Bed & Breakfast, the owner was a beer-gutted, ruddy-faced trucker looking fella with a dirty cap. He noted he was suffering from a doozie of a hangover from the party last night, as was, apparently, half the town. With a preponderance of Harley riders blapping through town, it looked like tonight may be a party, too.

Each of us was afforded our own rooms, so we picked out which ones we wanted and dropped our gear. We then unloaded into the club, which was a split-level--restaurant upstairs, and bar downstairs. They gave us the run of the menu, so I took the liberty of ordering the grilled chicken sandwich and a Corona. We weren't going to be getting a soundcheck, even though Terry specifically requested one. So after lunch, I took off on my walkabout, and relished further emersion into natural surroundings abundant in Lyons. I clicked a few photos, visited the grocery store for water and was back in my room by dark.

We all walked to the gig around 7:30, to touch bases with the sound guy, Steve, who was a pro musician himself and very personable. Jesse had been foiled in Angola in his quest for the "go-to" guy with connections into the local herb scene. Terry commented that Jesse ought to be a cop, since he could sniff out any existing possibility of green or brown, if any smidgen of a possibility existed. Street-level intelligence revealed that apparently Lyons' primary extra income for its residents involved growing at some level, so acquisition should be a done deal.

Doug Tacket, our agent with Road Dog Productions, was to meet up with us at Oskar's since he was out of Denver, so Terry had some biznazz to talk over with him. He did show up at the show later, and I got a chance to chat with him after the gig.

The party never really materialized at ol' Oskar's. I guess everyone was burnt out from the Roomful of Blues show last night. Nevertheless, the room filled up, but the crowd was pretty subdued, and Terry was feeling under the weather, obviously beginning to come down with a head cold. I had some trepidation about that, as was he, but, hey, you do what you can do, the best you can do it.

I ended up talking with Dave, the owner of Oskar's, who also owned tomorrow's venue in Boulder, the Red Fish, where we'd be doing the Sunday "Gospel Brunch." A very personable and knowledgeable guy, Dave was well informed about Terry, which I appreciated, in stark contrast to most of our employers.

We were contracted for three 60's, but by the end of the night all but the most robust hangers on remained, and we quit a little early. After we loaded out, a small group of us ended up gazing up at the sky meteor spotting from the Leonid shower. This far away from Denver, the light pollution was minimal, so the sky was breathtaking. Although it was close to freezing out, I didn't really notice because of the low humidity. As I chatted with Doug, we were spotting about one meteor every minute. Jesse and Jeff were enjoying the benefits of Jesse's contacts in the van, and joined us soon at our stargazing. Doug was familiar with the Portland scene since he'd booked Duffy Bishop and Ellen Whyte, and we connected well. He's a tall, young, blonde fella with a long goatee giving him a devilish appearance.

Knowing we'd be heading out early in the morning to make the 11 a.m. downbeat over in Boulder, I pushed to get to bed by 2:30 a.m...