In Which Doc and Dave Say Good-Bye

Waking up in the Coop. The woodstove has long used up the last log. It's a crisp morning in the building, despite the sun peaking in through the many windows.

Rich, rolling fields outside. Still green. Dave joins me in the Coop. We're all packed. Our hosts are nowhere to be seen, so we head up the highway to look for one more breakfast. We've got time to burn as Dave's plane doesn't leave until later in the day, and the airport is less than two hours drive.

And now the snow has caught up to us, as well. In a real sense we've reached the end of autumn. It waited for this day, just as we knew both the snow and the day would eventually find us. Nova Scotia snow, just teasing, showing off how it may charm.

After breakfast we climb back into the higher country. We're going to tour about a little before driving to the airport.

She's a pretty one, from up here. We continue on, climbing the ridge and dropping down to visit the Bay of Fundy.

It's an area known for having some of the highest tides in the world. Upon our visit, the water is down, and the shore is abandoned. A cold wind soon chases us back into the car, and sends us on our way. We stop in Wolfville and shop at the Dollar store. We stop in Windsor and check out the Thrift shop. I buy some socks and some spare gloves. Then we're off to the airport. I'm delivering Dave in plenty of time as I've got a solo show tonight and need to allow a couple of hours to get there.

Self-portrait by Dave. Over the course of three of these Tours Dave has gone from camera shy to developing an eye for images. Dave took quite a few of the blog pictures this year- including a bunch of the "art" shots.

Halifax Intl Airport. Is Dave smiling because he is escaping the Lincoln? Nah. Although from a business point of view the Tour has had ups and downs this year, it has definitely been the great Canadian journey again. We've rode a whole lot of blacktop. We've met some really great people across nine provinces. We've enjoyed each other's company, artistry and professionalism. We're still friends. Good friends. And we've really delivered some classic shows this year. Nobody reviews this stuff anymore, but I'd like to think anybody who took in a show would agree. I don't know if or when we'll get to do another run like this together, but I think it's safe to say that it's been one of the great blues adventures for both of us.

Bye, Dave. I know we'll be talking on the phone like old ladies before the week is out. Airport security is taking pictures of the car and jotting down the licence plate number. I guess I've got to get this rig out of here. I've got a gig tonight down in Hubbards, Nova Scotia. The big Lincoln seems strangely silent and empty as I edge it back onto the highway.

Red Dirt Day: Down at the Dunk and a Run on the Confederation Trail

Breakfast with Hal at the Dunk. What a beautiful building, and what a wonderful host. There are few places or people I enjoy visiting as much. It's been a real honour to be a part of this over the past few years. Really, stops like this make it possible to keep going.

Here's the blacktop in front of the Dunk. I sit on the centre line to take some pics! The red dirt roads are not far away. It's a beautiful day, so I decide to go for a run. When I get back I can relax in Dunk Hall or in the wood heated guest cabin. The blog can wait. I'm going to run the red dirt!

The Confederation Trail runs the length of the Island on the old railway tracks. It has little branches and loop trails most of the way. I elect to run along the forest trail by the Dunk River. After the wooded loop, I get up onto the nice, level Confederation Trail mainline and run easy for another 10 km or so. I stop in the ditches a couple of times to plunder some old power insulators and to watch the beavers at work.

I was wearing red today, but I didn't meet anybody with guns.

Plan B at Moncton, NB

That's the kind of day it is out here. Hard rain all night. I slept in a little attic room with no windows, but I could hear the rain slamming around me. There's a lot of water on the road, and as we drive we watch it foaming and overflowing some of the ditches. The creeks and streams are high. I wonder if we will get into any serious flooding today.

It's a short drive to Tim's - the working man's coffee stop in Canada. A couple of bagels and a couple of coffees and we are off. Fuel stop. Revenues have been so low that we decide against filling the tank. We'll put $40 in the pig, which ought to get us up the road to Moncton, NB. We're covering ourselves- a little cash in our pockets. Hopefully this little show tonight will do more than partially refill the tank and feed us...

Plan B is a fairly new, hip little alt-rock/roots venue. It's in a developing arts district. It's probably at the centre of all that, because everybody seems to drop in here and hang out. A really friendly, all ages walks of life sort of crowd. When we walk in it seems like we are introduced to everybody in the place. Yeah, that means it's fairly small- but it's not that small! There are a lot of people in here this stat afternoon.

We are to stay in the "band apartment" above the club. It's a pretty typical band apartment. Dave, not feeling well today, opts for a nearby hotel. I'm worried about money, so I elect to stay in either the apartment or the Lincoln tonight. The Atlantic shows are slower this year than at any time in the previous seven years of running this tour. I don't know that I've ever invested more time in packaging, marketing, and promoting for less return. And it's a really, really good show at this point. Big Dave and I have never played better.

The local listings have failed to mention the National Steel Blues Tour, Big Dave McLean, or Doc MacLean at all. Rather we are listed in the small print page as "Bad Boys of the Blues." Just another unknown act passing through town, apparently. It's been difficult to get a toe hold in the New Brunswick market, so I'm a little put off by this. Our marketing and promotion was pretty clear and effective everywhere else in Canada. Radio has been very helpful to us, but not being clearly identified in the listings will make it difficult for some people to connect with us on the ground.

By show time the room is nearly empty. A rock show is coming in from NFD to play at midnight, so we'll need to start early and end early. The staff are a lot of fun, Tracy, Brock, Nina, and the others all making us welcome. We play the first set to about nine people. By the end of the second set people are arriving for the rock show, so the room seems busier. We sell a few CDs, and I drive Dave back to his hotel. I'll head back to the venue to settle up and have a drink. It won't be more than a tank of gas here tonight. In the band room I sprawl on an old mattress and look for sleep while the floor shakes to the rock band down below.

Wilds of New Brunswick, Road to Fredericton