Day 25: Woodstock, NY
Welcome
Yesterday we played in Woodstock, New York.
It was blessedly peaceful outside of the bus when I rose yesterday morning. Tall trees surrounded the carpark and the sounds of bird calls, and the soft trickle of a stream were being carried to us on the breeze. We were in upstate New York, in the Catskill Mountains, and Blue Paradise was laid up next to a wooden building that could have been a barn, or a hunting lodge were it not clearly labelled as the Bearsville Theatre.
Tristan and I were the first to leave the bus, an attempt to explore some of the wilderness we were so fortunate to have in our vicinity, and we were helped in our endeavours by Danny Ducey, a specialist in the field of driving who heroically responded to our Uber request from twenty minutes away just so he could fulfil our ten-minute trip to the trailhead.
The feasibility of rural rideshare services aside, we were incredibly grateful to Danny for making our trip happen and as a gesture of goodwill I have provided Danny Ducey Personal Driver Services with an advertisement space on this website. If you ever need a safe and reliable set of wheels in the Catskills, you now know who to call.
Tristan and I spent the next few hours running, and attempting to run, while we were thwarted by the gradient of the mountain we were climbing. The trail was rugged and rocky, beginning on rough gravel and graduating to large stones and small boulders, and was a good workout for the ankles. It was a triumphant moment when we finally reached the peak and found a view that took one’s breath away. The painfully literal name of Overlook Mountain was exactly as promised, an incredible viewpoint to observe the Catskills sprawling out majestically to the west, the grand Hudson River flowing below us along the valley of the same name, and on the eastern horizon the mountain ranges of western Connecticut and Massachusetts. (This marks perhaps the tenth time I’ve tried to spell Massachusetts in the past few days and I’m yet to get it right on the first try).
The Overlook Fire Tower took us even higher than the summit, this nearly hundred-year-old steel framed structure providing 360-degree views along a heavy dose of vertigo as we bravely climbed the staircase and tried to ignore the increasing gusts of wind.
Our run also took us past the Overlook Mountain House, a 19th century hotel intended as a mountain retreat that was abandoned and eventually destroyed by fire. Finally, we made a stop at Echo Lake on our way back down, a detour that did cost us fair amount more sweat and straining but took us to the shores of a serene body of water, that Tristan was incredibly disappointed to discover was not swimmable.
Back at the bus everyone had been having a restful morning, exploring the small network of trails surrounding the venue and enjoying wildlife encounters straight out of a Disney movie. That’s not to say that the animals talked, just that they were cute and inquisitive. The inside of the Bearsville Theatre did feel somewhat like a barn with timber rafters and plywood walls, but this was a structure that was purpose built for live music, a project of famed 1960s music manager Albert Grossman and is said to be acoustically perfect. Since those early days the theatre has been upgraded and now has a very luxurious foyer lounge furnished in mid-century chic and with a glass viewing window to watch the show from a safe distance. Below the building is an extensive network of dressing rooms and offices, a large communal space with a pool table, and full kitchen facilities if wanted to host your bandmates for a home cooked meal around the twelve-seat dining table.
Our pantry isn’t particularly full at the moment so there was no lighting of the gas burners, but I did assemble a breakfast for myself using a knife and chopping board. A fresh loaf came to our green room from the nearby Bread Alone Bakery and I constructed an open face sandwich with avocado, cherry tomatoes, salt, pepper, and olive oil.
We spent the afternoon in the darkness setting up and sound checking and at dinner time we flung open the stage door and burst back into the daylight to enjoy a meal in the courtyard of the neighbouring tavern, making the most of every moment we had left to breathe in the fresh air of this rich countryside.
It was a silly show for us, but still a great night of music. After Princess Chelsea had squished themselves onto a stage that was too small for the septet, and played a ripping forty minutes, we walked out onto a stage that felt like it was entirely dark. We launched into our songs and gradually some lights came on and we began to settle into our groove, enjoying the intimacy of the room and the pleasant acoustics. There was some incredibly good heckling, and I think that’s what changed the tone of the evening, as Liz had conversations with a number of boisterous audience members, and ended up staging a demonstration of how to consume a honey sachet to rescue your throat from a moment of hoarseness. Perhaps one day the video will end up on the internet. Despite the departure from our usual scripted banter and steadfast professionalism it was a great night, and we left the stage in high spirits.
The evening ended on a much sillier note, however. On the bus we played the Nintendo Switch, loading a game of fighting and wrestling that had us rolling about the couches in stitches as our characters attempted to toss one another into perilous situations and messy deaths. Tired from a long day and exhausted from laughing we retired to the dormitory to await our early morning transit to a new city.