Endurance runners experience something called the "second wind" When all their energy is spent , legs heavy as stone, lungs on fire, they feel they have nothing left to give…. All they can do is focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Then by some miracle, they discover an untapped source - strength they didn't know they had. Like a drawing from a new well - abundance overflowing. Their feet move without thought, faster than ever before. Almost flying. The runner's "high." I find touring much like endurance running. The final leg of our tour was set at a grueling pace. We reached a point - I think at day 28 - when we were ready to be home. We were tired and spent. We still had a long road ahead of us, and every drive, every show, every song seemed to require more than we felt we could muster. It was daunting. But God's grace is sufficient. His well runs deep. By drawing upon the Living Water, we discovered a "second wind," we developed endurance.
Our eastbound endurance run began in Flagstaff. We woke up in a Walmart parking lot that morning, washed up in a public restroom and drove through the Coconino Forest into painted deserts Low mesas, brushed with color, spread across the horizon. Craving an adventure, we pulled off to see the Meteor Crater National Monument - only to find the attraction incredibly overpriced. We paid less to see the Grand Canyon - which I'm fairly certain is a larger and far more interesting hole in the ground….
We made it to Albuquerque as the sun was setting and found ourselves strangely reminded of Salt Lake City. The city of Albuquerque rubs shoulders with the Sandia Mountains which tower overhead much like the Wasatch Range of the Rockies near Salt Lake. Beautiful red mountains, shadowing the city below. Our thoughts flashed back to our time in Salt Lake - remembering how the Lord confirmed time and time again His will for us... Here we were, 21 days later seeing His providence in every day.... Our Albuquerque show fell through, so we were able to spend the evening getting to know our hosts. Friends of a friend - Deb and James (along with 18 month old Edmond) graciously opened up their home to us and made an incredible dinner of homemade enchiladas - with New Mexico signature green chilies. They invited their neighbors over to share the meal with us. Deb being a lawyer, and James being an Episcopal priest we were surprised to meet their friends who came dressed in camo sweatshirts and jeans. It made for a beautifully diverse group - a lawyer, a priest, a blue collar hunter and his wife and a couple of musicians. A table you're sure to find Jesus sharing. We talked late into the night, discussing faith, life and politics. An unlikely meeting of hearts and minds that felt close to heaven.
From Albuquerque we headed east for Amarillo. We crossed out of desert into flat lands and rolling plains revealing ghost towns and abandoned train depots. Entire cities sitting empty - silent. As though the whole town was evacuated all at once. Eery. Forgetting the time zone chance, we got into Amarillo with barely enough time to set up for the show. To tell you the truth… we didn't expect from much Amarillo - the only city in all of Texas off of I-40. From what we had heard there wasn't much going on in that town. Our venue was located off of old Route 66. A historic district that had recently been recovered from gangs and vandals. The 806 was empty when we arrived. Things looked rather bleak. But the owner told us to wait - people will probably show up at least a half hour late. So we waited and sure enough - the place started to pack out. We ended up playing to a full house and later found that many were musicians and artists themselves. An encouraging and supportive community of creatives. It was amazing. Right as we were about to finish for the night, a man handed us a large amount of cash saying. "I just got here - would this be enough to convince you to play two more?" We told him that would be enough to play the whole set again and happily played an encore.
After the show we were approached by a guy who introduced himself as Starchild. He was young, maybe 24 with long dreaded hair pulled into a Rastafarian style hat and a tie dye shirt. A musician himself, he said he understood how it can be on the road and asked if we had a place to stay for the night. We in fact did not. So Startchild invited us to stay at his art studio. His father we found was an accomplished artist with a gallery and workshop down the road. Starchild lived there with several of his friends. I'd be lying if I didn't say I was a little worried driving there that night. But Starchild proved a quick friend and a generous host. The studio was incredible. Giant 8 foot landscapes painted in vibrant shades. Deserts, lightning, and autumn treescapes. Portraits in process - perfectly detailed. Then the avant-garde. Degas Dancers painted amidst splashes of color and Native American petroglyphs. The art was incredible to say the least. The paintings would sell for $7,000 - $15,000. The portraits - $30,000 - $50,000. Crazy.
The studio itself was more of a ware house. A large sprawling building with twistst and turns that revealed room after room. Two large band rehearsal spaces. A kitchen, a bathroom that resembled an old locker room… I don't think we even saw half of it. There were 8 people sleeping there that night and we never saw any of them. Starchild showed us to our room for the night. Empty save for a computer desk and piles of recording equipment. He laid out a futon mattress for us and some linens. Then we went down to the kitchen and shared stories and songs late into the night. It was by far the most interesting and unexpected host we've ever had. A true blessing.
We were sad to say goodbye to our newfound friend, but Tulsa was calling our name so we continued west. The ground grew trees around us as we travelled into Oklahoma, dirt peeking out red beneath yellow grass. I finally understood why Emmy Lou Harris called herself a Red Dirt Girl. For the first time since Utah, it looked like autumn. Bright reds and golden yellows. Lovely. That night we were booked to play at The Colony. A small pub on the south east end of the city. The show wasn't scheduled until 10pm, but we arrived early to catch up with our good friend Jaron who lived about an hour away. We ate dinner and killed time in the parking lot - taking in some of Jaron's new tunes. (His band, Hundred Year Dash has a live electronic dubstep vibe - gotta check it out! We <3 him). When 9 o'clock finally rolled around we went into The Colony to set up only to be informed that the venue had double booked. Two other acts showed up gear in hand, planning to play for the night. Not wanting to step on each-other's toes, we all agreed to split the time evenly - an hour each. The Passerine closed the show which meant we didn't grace the stage until 12:30am and didn't leave until 2:30am with a full hour drive ahead of us. Needless to say - it was a long night. But we met some great folks - including Justin, the founder of fundraising company Change Clothing. His business raises funds for non-profit organizations by selling T-Shirts. Awesome ministry. He felt led to bless us financially that night saying "You have a dream - I want to invest in that." Wonderful soul. We hit the road and followed Jaron out of the city to a farm community called Webbers Falls. We finally got to our host home at 3:30 that morning. Poor ole Jaron had to get up for work at 5am. Talk about a faithful friend. I know few people who would drive two hours to see us - let alone sacrifice all but 1.5 hours of sleep. True blue.
We spent the night at the homestead of our friend Bobby. Bobby, Jaron and two other Visible guys moved out to Webbers Falls for the summer to work on Bobby's family's farm. All summer long the guys harvested corn, potatoes and watermelon by day and worked on their music by night. Livin the dream…. Bobby greeted us in the morning and stuffed our faces with a farm fresh breakfast. We spent some time catching up with our old friend before going on our way. Bobby sent off with two economy boxes of pop tarts and an open invitation. "Come back whenever you want - you don't have to call - just let yourself in." I couldn't help but marvel at the hospitality of this little family farm. Opening their doors to musicians and college kids alike.
The last show of our endurance week was in Little Rock. AR. The drive through Arkansas was beautiful. The Ozarks developed before us… thick forests of pine, woodsy towns nestled snug between rolling mountains and hidden lakes.. Then erupting on the scene was Little Rock. Much larger than I expected, Little Rock was a sudden bought of civilization amidst the wilderness. We were playing at Vino's a popular pizza joint/music venue/bar that attracts a mix of families and college students. The staff were amazing and the pizza was out of this world. We played to a rowdy crowd - so rowdy the staff had to ask some to leave. A new experience for our little acoustic folk band. After the show we packed up quick and headed for our old stomping grounds… Memphis TN - As we drove the 3 hours drive to Memphis, we reflected on the Lord's faithfulness yet once again. Every-time we felt spent - He was there - to fill us and give us strength for the journey.
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