Saturday, November 14, 2009

The Van Story





This story will be told in the style of William Thomas Mansfield IV....because he is the greatest story tell who ever lived.....and continues to live...i can prove it, I just saw him last night, so I guess barring any unforeseen "indecent" he's still kicking.

So there I was behind the wheel of the greatest vehicle ever made prior to 1997.....the '97 Dodge DMC, the Dream Machine(pronounced with a hard ch...as in chicken), the Cheese Wheel, the buttratfarttub(its a pallendrome...like........noxon).
We stopped for a snack, actually we stopped because kenny's bladder decided to turn 65 years old on this tour and he has to pee every 100 miles or so....regardless, as we merged onto I-90 we heard a grinding sound come from somewhere under the car.....kenny and chet got out and listened and determined our back right was completely fucked and upon further investigation decided to change the tire. Turns out that son-of-a-bitch(willie style, remember) was worn down to the metal grid beneath the rubber itself making the tire damn near explosion. we unloaded the van, jacked her up, and changed the tire. Although we continued to hear the grinding sound, we decided to continue at a reduced speed to Spokane, our original destination and venue.
Everything was going smoothly. We ascended Lookout Pass which took us from Idaho to Washington, and began our decent passing the mountain town of Mullen and into the darkness of the Washington Rockies. About three miles down the road from Mullen I rounded a corner, following the river as it bent to the right. Midway around the corner the back of our van slammed into the pavement; the right rear tire and fallen off.....son of a bitch. At 65 miles an hour we began to swerve and fishtail toward the concrete divider in the center of the interstate, then back toward the edge of the road and the river, then the concrete, the river.....my breaks are slammed and the van is making a god awful sound....imagine nails on a chalk board....but the bottom of a 2,000 pound van against concrete-Kenny's is fist pumping shouting "you got this, you got this, you got this, you got this", and I'm trying to maneuver to the side of the road.



All completely instinct, all a flash of chaos....but it wasn't done yet. Like a pricey valet I parked the son of a bitch between the white line of the shoulder and the guard rail on a corner of I-90.........the dust settled.....i was amazed at the cleanliness of my pants.

"We're on fire!" is probably the last thing you want to hear, probably ever, but that's the first thing lucas said when he got out of the car. The rear right wheel well was completely on fire...mostly likely caused by metal scraping the pavement and a busted axle, break components and grease.

I never felt an ounce of fear during the ordeal of loosing a wheel until i knew we were on fire....i mean...we were on fucking fire!!! Chet in the panic threw a bottle of water on the well, which only made the fire bigger cause it was a grease fire.....I'm unlocking the back door with hopes of unloading my bass (and everyone else's shit too, but in moments of panic you get selfish)....Lucas, in his moment of brilliance and heroism sacrificed his pillow and smothered the fire, while we threw sand on the burning grease.


Fire out.....all that remained was the red glowing end of an axle which had melted and snapped. Ironically the wheel had rolled with us and landed next to the van.

Highway safety worker Scott(the silent three hundred pound type, no jacked....he never wears a jacket), Officer Louie Ochoa...the best cop name ever, and Darrell, the bands first ever driver, were on the scene. Police reports, road flares, sirens, flashing lights, a celebratory cigar(for not dying) were all out in force. Darrell the tow truck driver(which was more like a big flatbed with lights and our van drove us to the front door of Mootsy's in Spokane and helped us unload our gear. We played, rocked, and thanked the powers that be.....i guess it's just another story from the road....the crazy crazy road.

Thanks to my family Kirk, Renee, Jared, and Rickki and their friends for helping us out big time....giving us a place to stay and staying up way past your bed times to make sure we got where we needed to be. You are all so awesome. Officer Ochoa, Scott, and Darrell for keeping us safe on the interstate, and the guys at Bell Automotive for making our Dream Machine bigger, better, and stronger for future travels. Woo Hoo, the cheese wheel rides again.......................................................bye!
We just drove through dell, montana: population 35. Aparently there was a wreck on the highway and we've been diverted ontoo a two lane county road that
Parallels the railroad andk cuts through a beautiful ranching valley. Chet is consantly gaming, luker is playing saduko, ken is singing "funbelievable", comenting on ducks, and generally entertaining himself.
We played at a coffee shop/record store last night; pretty much heaven for me....I picked up Joni mitchell's mingus, amazing!! Turn out was good considering we book a little more than a week ago. Go to vinyl perk the next time you are in pocatello! Our friend, and local Pocatello harp player, BRAD(i got it right now buddy!) sat in on Cougarville. Hopefully he posts facebook video soon(hint hint) of our jam togeether in may. Thanks again brad n page for making us feel at home.
Tuesday in Paxton licked off the tour right, and as always kept us up past our bed times. Time and time again you guys proove that you really know how to rage; 600 strong! Thanks for keeping your kids out on a school night, commiting to a work hangover, and supporting us while we are on the road.
The next five nights are in Washington, I'll let you know what goes down, in the mean time if anyone asks you what kind of music the Lucas cates band plays, say "volcanic rock"....it's most fitting.
Car Story is Next....