I arrive in Kamloops at 3 in the morning. It's been a rough trip. First of all I started this day in Victoria at 5 in the morning, followed by a full day of friends in kilts, getting lost, and then a show... "Thou must have tire chains" signs pepper the Mountain passes (I don't) and at this time of night you don't necessarilly see anyone for a while leading to thoughts of getting eaten by wolves. My bare all-season tires skitter along the road and I drive sloooowww... At one point my GPS tries to kill me (not its first attempt) by driving me down an exit and then back up the same entrance for no reason - which would be fine, except that the entrance is unplowed, filled with snow, and totally barren of human life. It's a scary trip, but Harry Potter & The Deathly Hallowes on my ipod gets me through. I stop for donuts and ice tea somewhere along the way. And just when I think I will die without sleep, I arrive in Kamloops.

I debate sleeping in the parking lot - I really only have time for 4 hours of sleep in order to make it to Calgary in time to return my rental car and catch my 6pm flight. But the lure of a shower, continental breakfast, charging my cell phone, and a brief, but infinitely more pleasant sleep pull me in.

The next thing I know it's 7am and I'm stuffing muffins in my pockets and back on the road. Somehow in the light the road seems less daunting. I'm in the middle of the mountains and they are stunning - giant snow-capped peaks. Even though it's snowing, it's still brilliant. And all along the sides of the road, miles and miles of white forests and chilled lakes border the road. Hundreds of feet below on my right is a railroad, next to a lake, both of which I'd prefer not to hurtle onto or into.

Around mid day I am a little bit worried about time - it should be a seven hour drive to Calgary... but driving safely means driving slowly and I'm now going to hit Calgary with only an hour or two to spare to get on my plane. I pass a miniature village on the left. There's a pullover on the right and I stop for a quick stress break, driving into a lot of deep snow. And suddenly I am stuck. The wheels spin but don't reverse.

I get out and look at the trees and the mountains and the highway and am surprisingly calm that this is the start of my "how I was almost eaten by wolves" story. Luckily, I'm not totally alone - there are technically people in the cars ignoring me as they pass by.

Still none of them stop - not that I'm really flagging them down. I'm just kind of standing there. Instead, I opt to walk back a ways, along the highway, jumping into the ditch filled with snow as trucks approach. After a while, I find a man with a snow plow, next to the minature village. He tells me that he can't take the plow on the highway, but that he'll lend me a shovel. I follow him up the hill to his house, get a shovel, and walk back to the car, where I start digging.

Countless cars pass by, until finally a nice local guy pulls up in his trucks, grabs the shovel from me and finishes up. We put some David Hein posters under the wheels for traction and with a push, I've reversed into shallower waters. Hooray for Rocky Mountain good samaritans...

Not celebrating too early, I now have no time to spare, but still need to drive extra slow. I call Air Canada and find out that there's another flight at midnight, which sounds awful, but at least I won't have to sleep over if I don't make my 6pm flight...

But then I get stuck again - stopping at another rest stop. This time, luckily, there's a crowd of stuck people - about 10 cars. I spend half an hour helping a truck get out of the frozen lake of a parking lot and then they help me.

And then the storm starts. I'm getting a little freaked out. The bald, all-weather tires seem to be ice skating (which I am not particularly good at). I phone Air Canada to ask them to switch my flight, but suddenly the phone crackles out and I lose all reception. I turn around and head back to the last town, where my phone last worked. The flight switched I head onward into the darkness and the snow.

And after a veeeeery long, scary time, I get to Calgary. I drop off the car. I get a cab to the airport. I sleep a tiny bit. I arrive. I get a bus to the subway. Take the subway to my station and take another bus home.

It's 8:30 am. The tour was awesome, but it's so good to be home.

I wrote a song right before going on this tour called "Hold On, Maria" - I've been playing it out here and one of the last lines is:

One more town, Maria, and I'll come home
You can hang up now, Maria, but please don't let me go

Well it's one more town and one more show in Vancouver before the end of my big West of Wherever tour. After a somewhat regretful car switch at Enterprise (from my new blue car to the older red alberta car with the bald all-weather tires and the sullied lock), I head to a Starbucks for internet (which doesn't work), then head to another Starbucks (which does) and then wander around looking for more presents for girls and cats back home.

Eventually it's time to meet up with an old friend, Tony, from high school back in Ottawa. Turns out he's now working for IBM in Seattle and is up in Vancouver for the weekend for Cthulhupalooza - an annual fest of all things Cthulhu... what's that? What's Cthulhu? Well of course, it's a fictional giant squid faced monster, one of the "Great Old Ones" in some of H. P. Lovecraft's stories. According to wikipedia, Cthulhu is "often referred to in science fiction and fantasy circles as a tongue-in-cheek shorthand for extreme horror or evil." And my friend Tony is going to watch bands, movies and other things inspired by him. Tony, as it turns out, also wears a kilt - or a Utilikilt(TM) - as he happily endorses.

It's great to see Tony - he seems totally cool and happy and we catch up on over 10 years of not seeing eachother. We hang out at Starbucks, catching up on what old friends and then go to an old Polish restaurant for an awesome all-day breakfast. I wish Tony could see my show (he's at Cthulhupalooza) and I kinda wish I could see Cthulhupalooza. I also wish I had a Utilikilt.

I have a bit of time, so I stop at English Bay, because I'm a ridiculous Blue Rodeo fan. I write Irene's name in the sand and get cooed over for being a romantic by passing joggers.

Next, I head over to see Ray and Connie's place for dinner. Connie's place is an amazing condo in the sky near downtown Vancouver - pretty cool. After possibly the best dinner of the whole trip, I head to the last show of the tour at The Wired Bean.

It's raining though and I get a little lost - my GPS refused to believe that such a place exists, but eventually I find it. The Bean is a cozy little coffee shop. I was playing last with two other local musicians, Debra Whyte and Brandy Gibb. Debra runs a recurring music night there and Brandy has brought out a ton of her students, all very excited to be calling her "Brandy" instead of "Miss Gibb."

I trundle in and out forgetting a million things and feeling kind of rushed. I have an unfortunate tradition of having less-than-stellar final shows on tour and am a bit concerned. Still, everyone seems totally nice. Both Debra and Brandy play sweet sets. I thought there'd be a quick break between Brandy and my set and end up getting introduced while in the bathroom.

Brandy's students stick around for a couple songs, but everyone else stays till the end. I'm a bit worried about time, since I have to drive 4 hours to Kamloops after the show, but I'm having a totally fun time - and Ray and Connie have arrived, so it's a pleasure to play to old friends - especially Ray, who, just days before, I played all of these tunes...

What a nice show - Ray gives me a big bear hug and tells me to phone to tell him I made it okay - everyone else promises to stay in touch - and when I ask for caffeine, I get a big ass coffee... I even sip some of it in the hopes of staying awake... before remembering that I don't really like coffee. And then I'm off. And the long trip home is another story entirely.

I've been flirting with Victoria
She's been trying to catch my eye
She says I should leave Toronto
And I just might

There's a reason I wrote a song about Victoria - although Victorians and even Vancouverites might have forgotten its charms. Victoria is one of my favourite cities. I love the ferry ride over - I even love the crappy cafeteria food on the ferry - I love the islands - I love the whales which I never see - I love downtown Victoria with its cute little tea shops and its hostels and its sunrises and sunsets and the ferry ride back. And I love every musician I know who's from here - they're all good people.

So can I crash, Victoria
In a hostel in your heart
Sing me songs, Victoria
From your little coffee shops
And lay me down, Victoria
And lash me to your masts
Oh Victoria, you're just like all the rest

I always enjoy singing songs with place names in the actual places so I was looking forward to playing here. I had two shows set up on the island and a bunch of friends to see. And my recent break-up with Vancouver over a break-in to my car only furthered my fondness for the island.

Bright and early I headed down to Tsawwassen, where the ferries leave. Cars are parked inches away from eachother and almost everyone locks their doors and heads into the little mall next door. I hopped on my laptop and talked to Ava from the Home Routes concert circuit. Ava and Mitch are awesome folks - aside from booking me on cool house concert tours, they're also just good people. Good people also come from Winnipeg.

Ava and I go over my numbers (attendance, sales, etc.) and she seemed pretty pleased - apparently I was one of the top sellers - a good sign hopefully in terms of getting booked next year. And next year, they're looking at expanding from 4 circuits (AB, SK, & 2x MB) to 14 CIRCUITS! HOLY! I'm crossing my fingers for an Ontario route where I can occasionally see my wife and cats. Mitch gets on the line and we talk a bit - he seems pretty pleased with my performance out in Alberta, so I'm pretty pleased myself. Suddenly though, over the intercom, an announcement comes on sending us all scurrying back to our cars. As we hang up, Mitch warns me about the ferry food.

I travel on the "Spirit of Vancouver Island" - it's cold out, but I go out to watch the water - waiting for whales to appear, who never do. After a bit, I head back in and eat some pretty bad cafeteria food.

I head over to Adam's place, but with a bit of time beforehand, I stop in a nearby park and shoot pictures of the prettiest sunset on the entire tour.

No one answers the door at Adam's, but I find him downstairs where he's recording in his half recording studio/half bedroom. Adam is the fiddle player for the Gruff - a band of friends who I met at the Brandon Folk Fest. Adam's also in like twenty seven other bands and spends his days recording local Victoria musicians and nights, on the one day when he's not playing with his other bands, throwing house concerts.

Speaking of his bands, in walks two of three Gruff girls, Phaedra and Terri. It's great to see them again - haven't since they crashed with me while touring through Toronto. They've promised to join me on jetpack, so we do about 30 seconds of rehearsing and then head upstairs.

I'm sharing the stage tonight with another musician - who I assumed was local, but turns out to be an Eastern boy like me. Matthew De Zoet is from Hamilton and, like me, has been touring across Canada. After all the music, Adam comments that Matthew and my shows are like polar opposites. Matthew sings beautiful, serious tunes but breaks them up with bizarre non-stop hilarious banter - whereas my banter is pretty normal and my songs are funny. Anyway, we enjoy our music and so does the audience. Adam joins me on fiddle for Victoria and the Gruff join in for Jetpack - totally fun. We wrap up, get invited back for breakfast, and then I head back to Gruffland - Terri & Phaedra's place - where I'm crashing. Phaedra and I hang out a bit talking about cowboy shirts - she makes pretty cool hand-made cowboy shirts - and now that I'm officially a cowboy shirt owner, I want one. But I have to save up a bit and figure out what colour and style and little flowery animals to sew on...

The next morning Terri makes smoothies and then I head back for breakfast with Adam, his folks and Matthew - followed by... shopping. Having lost several things in the Vancouver late night crazy carjacking, I need to find new presents for a certain girl and two cats back in Toronto. Luckily Victoria is a crazy good shopping town. I wander around for a while and then totally lose my car. I wander in circles for a 10 block radius - freak out a little, wondering if WILL ACTUALLY move to Victoria, which I'm suddenly not sure I want to do and definitely DON'T want to without my girl and cats... and then I find it.

I rush off to a show across town at the Cornerstone Cafe set up by James Kaspar, another Victoria music friend. The Cornerstone is in a cute area of town - parking's a bit difficult, but it's worth it for its charm. Unfortunately, it looks like I'm only playing for James and the two cafe barristas.... but what the hell - I'm still happy to be in Victoria, so I play them a bunch of funny tunes. Finally, another couple stops in and get a full on private show. I ask them what we should make up a song about and they tell me "chicken" and then he gives the plot of "Chicken Run" - the movie - and we make up a nice tune called "Poultry in Motion."

A couple other people come in - and even though it's still one of the quietest night on the tour (after Regina of course), it's pretty nice - and great to see James again. I get paid and also score some smoothies and cookies which I bring back to the Gruff girls.

The next morning I leave uber-early to catch the 7am ferry - I have to get back to Vancouver in time to exchange my new blue wheels for my red, alberta car, now all fixed up from the break in. And even though Phaedra tells me that busking on the ferry is cool and can make you all sorts of money, I opt for terrible cafeteria breakfast and dozing in a chair.

Finally, after what seems a VERY long time – and almost near the end of the Harry Potter book on ipod – I arrive in Vancouver. I’m staying with old friends of my mother’s, but I don’t really have enough time to stop. I get to the club about a half hour before doors open and pile in. My ears still haven’t popped at all and I have a bad case of airplane ears.

Inside is a totally cool venue – I’m playing at the Beaumont Studios in their theatre. The building is an artist co-op – upstairs are studios and the entire place is a gallery. The theatre puts on small productions, but is dark on Mondays, so they decided to set up a music night there called “Vancouver City Limits”, run by Bruce, who also owns a recording studio above. Bruce and his cohorts film the nights, edit them, and then broadcast them on their own youtube channel (Check it out by searching for “Vancouver City Limits” on youtube - I’ll let you all know when the show is up). I’ll be playing second, after a woman named Trinity, and before a band called La La Boom Boom.

I do a quick soundcheck, but my ears still havent’t popped from the mountains and I feel like I’m hearing myself out in the lobby or in another building. I think I’m in tune with myself, but feel kind of underwater.

When the crowd arrives, I run into Adam, a friend who plays with the Gruff, and who also happens to be hosting a house concert for me in Victoria on Friday. Crazy! He’s come to see his girlfriend who plays fiddle in La La Boom Boom.

Trinity does a sweet set of music, playing guitar, kick and high hat all at once – she confides before her set that she was a bit nervous because her parents were seeing her play for the first time that night – something which I just went through in Medicine Hat.

There’s a quick break and then I go on. I’m exhausted and totally out of it – I sound like I have gauze in my ears or like someone else is singing. But whoever’s singing, it sounds alright and mostly on key. I play a buncha goofy songs – made for youtubing – and everyone laughs along to most. Afterwards, La La Boom Boom put on an amazing show – they remind me of Crash Test Dummies meets Arcade Fire, although I’m not sure I’m totally up on Arcade Fire enough to make that comparison. Anyway – it’s great stuff – Adam’s girlfriend is a great fiddler (so is Adam) and the band has great energy.

After the show I sell a CD or two and then head over to Celeste and Jack’s – my mom’s friends. They’re a very nice couple with two lovely pups – old friends of both my moms from Ottawa. I park outside and they welcome me at the door. We talk about my folks for a bit, watch a little news, and then I head to bed.

The next morning, I pack up – give Jack a hand getting a TV out to the garage, and then head down to my car….

OH #%@#^@#$%^

My car has been broken into – the lock to the driver door is dangling and the handle’s snapped in half. I drop my stuff and open the car… the glove compartment has been rifled through – so has the change holder… which still holds a $5 bill and a buncha change… strange… I scan the car and try to figure out what’s missing. In the back my guitar is still sitting there, thank god, as is the suitcase filled with most of my CDs and in the trunk is the rest of my stuff.

It looks like they only stole a backpack - filled with 30 David Hein CDs, some cards that I don’t use much (health card for Ontario, insurance, and one credit card with new pin chip thing…), and some papers and a book on musical theatre that a friend lent me (I’m buying you a new one, Grant – sorry!!!). Whoever stole it must have been looking for my GPS – and they certainly got an interesting collection of what must seem like crap to them… I mean, unless they’re really into indie folksy music or musical theatre… I cancel the credit card, make a police report, phone my insurance, and then Enterprise Rent a Car.

I drive to car to where the gig was last night hoping that I might have just left the bag there, but I haven’t. Because the lock is trashed in the car, I have to hold it with my left hand while driving with my left. To make matters worse, my GPS, now thoroughly angry at me after our mountain trip, sends me to 2 wrong addresses. Finally, I get sent to a Suzuki dealer to fix the lock, but he tells me it won’t be ready for 4-5 days – 1 or 2 after I was planning on leaving. He also tells me that he can’t believe that Enterprise gave me this car for driving through the mountains, since the tires are almost bald… no wonder I was slightly terrified yesterday.

The service guy manages to get the handle popped back in, so I don’t have to hold it while driving, but tells me that it won’t lock. I climb in and push on it gently – the door holds – then I check the lock, which goes down and seems to lock the door. I pull it up again and then try the the door handle… which doesn’t open. I’ve locked myself in and now have to climb through the passenger side to exit. This day is just getting better and better.

Finally, I end up at an Enterprise on the edge of town and after a fair bit of “discussion” with the Calgary Enterprise people, they agree that I can swap out for a new BC car – a blue version of the little red Swift.

I swap out all my stuff and head over to my friend, Ray’s, where I’m staying for 2 blissful days off.

Honestly, I’m a bit confused about the whole thing. Staying with Celeste and Jack, we talked about some of a people Jack works with – homeless, drug addicts and poor people. So even though I spent the entire #$%#$^ day dealing with Enterprise and insurance and whatnot, I still feel kinda sorry for them – especially thinking about them rifling through the bag and only finding CDs that they probably can’t sell and a book on musical theatre. And I certainly came off pretty lucky out of it – Enterprise is covering most of the costs and my insurance will pay for everything… but I still kind of feel like it’s personal somehow – like my generally naïve, happy-go-lucky demeanor got taken advantage of - and I know I shouldn’t feel this way too, but since EVERYONE in Vancouver seems totally UNSURPRISED that I got broken into, I’m kind of holding it against the entire city.

Ray and I talk music for hours and then hit the hay. Today I stayed inside. Most cities I’m excited to check out, but today I just want to stay in, with all of my stuff that I’ve moved in from the car.

I get up early and prepare myself for a LOT of driving. But the prairies are beautiful early in the morning – kind of underwater fields of blue. Plus I’ve just finished two Harry Potter books on tape and, although I kind of hate J.K. Rowling at this point, I have begun the 6th book.

I get into Medicine Hat early enough to get a couple Christmas presents for my folks – I drop them off and grab lunch with my Dad. It’s been great to get to duck back and see him so much.

But I have to keep going – Vancouver is very far away. Harry Potter going strong, I cruise through Calgary and head towards the mountains. I’ve chosen HWY 1 over 3, which is apparently more twisty-turny… but once I hit the mountains, I wonder how it could be. Suffice to say the beauty of these peaks is dwarfed by my fear of driving off them – especially once night falls and giant trucks start barreling all around me. No fun.

I pull into a town called Golden sometime around 7 that night. My muscles have totally cramped up and I’m getting tired. In front of me is a sign saying that the road ahead has serious visibility issues and poor road conditions. The guy at the gas station says that all the cars coming back from that route have been coated in mud and their headlight barely shone. I decide to stay the night here and brave an 8-hour trip tomorrow in the daylight – all before playing a show. Who booked this stupid tour??

The hotel is nice enough, but the internet isn’t working, so I use their strangely smelling whirlpool and sauna and try to uncramp my driving muscles.

The next morning, I’m up early and the daylight feels more hospitable to driving – but soon flurries are falling and, although I thought I was out of the worst of it in Vernon, my GPS tries to kill me by taking me the long way round. Up and down and round and round – my ears popping at least 20 times and my tires skidding underneath me – the only good thing about this road is that there doesn’t seem to be any giant trucks – they clearly have better relationships with their GPS units.

[In which I’m thwarted by Santa Claus, hide out with Al Capone, and write a song about Beer, Lemons, and Herpes]

I’m just trying to fill my car up (hooray for low gas prices!) but my GPS refuses to get me to a street that isn’t blocked off. Every turn is blocked off by police and I start to wonder if coming to Moose Jaw was that wise. Moose Jaw is well known for one thing: a honeycomb of tunnels underneath that we’re lived in by the Chinese working population AND by Mr. Al Capone. Yes – this is a city of criminals and secret activities – and now all the streets are barricaded off. Greeeeat.

Turns out though that it’s the Brandon Santa Clause Parade. I eventually get to a gas station and then back to Bobby’s Place, where I’m playing. Bobby’s Place is one of my favourites – the last time I played was a Monday, so I’m looking forward to a Saturday – and I’m not disappointed – the place is packed. I set up and then head over to the hotel where I’ve got a room – at "Capone’s Hideaway" Motel. It’s not exactly a 5 star, but it’s a room and it’s much nicer than hiding out in a tunnel.

Bobby’s place is one of my favourites because I always get a place to stay, a nice crowd and a good meal with vegetables – for some reason, I always want vegetables here and they always make a mean salad.

I meet a nice guy who asks “are you related to Ted Hein?” “Yeah – he’s my dad.” Turns out he knows my Dad from a long time ago and lost track of him when he lived in Grand Prairie. Apparently my North of Nowhere poster cinched the deal since, according to him, nowhere is more like “North of Nowhere” than Grand Prairie.

Again, it’s a combo of a show for some and background music for others, but I have a pretty fun time. I make up a song for every set and the first suggestion is to write a song about “Beer, Lemons, and Herpes” – which is called, appropriately “Beer, Lemons and Herpes” – surely destined for my next album.

After a long time, we wrap up and I run back to Capone’s Hideaway. I need some sleep since tomorrow I have to drive like 82 hours towards Vancouver, where I’m playing in 2 days…

I’ve now played in Brandon more than almost any other town in my travels across Canada – after two folk fests and a stop or two, it’s nice to have friends who are looking forward to me arriving.

I’m playing at the Lady of the Lake – which I always assumed to be a coffee shop of some sort, but instead turns out to be a gigantic very cool antique shop – with a restaurant and stage tacked onto the end. Everywhere you look it’s stunningly decorated – in one corner, pink Christmas trees are matched with pink bears and chairs and bears, oh my, while in another there’s a black and white movie motif. The place is massive.

The restaurant itself is also huge, with ridiculously high ceilings and tons of tables – which are apparently all sold out – less due to me (I think I sold out 2 tables…) than a couple Christmas parties and fans of the band playing after me, a blues act called The Majestics. I’m only playing from 6-8, but am looking forward to my dinnertime show – especially to a packed house and a couple tables of friends.

While The Majestics sound check, I wander around the store looking at Christmas stuff – wishing, even though I like being in Brandon, that I was back home planning Christmas trees and putting up stockings for the cats.

Before I play, I hang out with some friends from the Brandon Folk Fest. Apparently the folk fest is in the midst of political craziness – some of my friends who’ve worked on the fest for years, have quit in protest over it being taken over by a local politician. It’s a long story and I only get to talk for ten minutes. One friend refuses to talk about it until he’s been drinking. It sound pretty awful all around.

The show is great – despite the tawky gigantic auto parts maker Christmas Party next to me. The Majestics in the front row make a nice audience, some ladies in the corner do a bit of seated dancing, my fest friends sing along, and even a couple auto part girls seem to be enjoying it. One asks me if I’m married and when I tell her yes, she tells me I’ve just ruined her whole evening.

It’s a bizarre mix of being background music and actually putting on a show – but I have fun and it seems to work alright. And playing to a packed house is always nice – even if they’re only there for the other band or the food… I make up a couple tunes

My favourite moment is that at the back of the room, a couple do some whistling. Later, I go over to introduce myself – and it turns out they’re folk fest attendees and fans of my song, Jetpack. In fact, there’s a Christmas tree behind them, with cards that you can write your Christmas wish onto as ornaments. They’ve written “I want a David Hein style Jetpack”… coincidentally my Christmas wish as well. Thanks, Guys!

After the show, we head back to Lyle & Brenda’s for a jam & wine-drinking session with a variety of hard rockers and folksy types. I’m somewhat more into the wine-drinking, but I’m happy to strum away in the background, especially after playing for two hours earlier. Lyle is particularly soused and makes out with a harmonica seductively. Dave plays accordion over classic rock tunes and does a bit of pole dancing. Paul, who plays classical acoustic, shows off his electric skills.

In the middle of a long tour, it’s pretty great to come back to a place where I’ve played a fair bit and have a bunch of great, drunk friends.

I spend a bit of time with my Dad the next morning and then head out towards Regina. The prairies are still pretty to me and Saskatchewan feels a little different from Alberta – a bit flatter with even more sky and golden fields.

I’m on my 2nd Harry Potter books on tape (er… ipod) and it gets me all the way to Regina – capital of Saskatchewan and birthplace of DAVID HEIN.

I know there are lots of parts of Regina that I recognize, but however my little GPS gets me to the restaurant where I’m playing is not one of them – although I do always appreciate seeing brand names that you only see in the prairies (Safeway, Taco Time…).

I’m playing at the Cathedral Freehouse – a nice little bar/restaurant – and I’m staying just around the corner from it with Jill Straker, sister of Jeff Straker – one of the 3 Guys From The Prairies group that I play with and a very cool singer/songwriter (go check him out now at www.jeffstraker.com). Jill is also very cool and has let me drop stuff off at her place before hand. She and Jeff have just bought the place together and Jill has just moved in – but despite boxes, it’s a lovely place. Jeff texts me to tell me how strange it is that I’m sleeping in his house before him. There was some debate about whether Jill’s couch would fit me, but it looks pretty good.

The show isn’t quite as lovely. The music section of the bar is completely empty even though the other section is relatively full. I don’t know whether people come in and decide that they want to talk or what, but no one comes to listen, except for Harry the waiter and Jill, who shows up halfway through. Jill sits patiently laughing at my jokes and even sings along (she also performs with Jeff and has a nice set of pipes). She asks me to do a couple Jeff Straker covers, which I totally am unable to do (Jeff, I only know the words and chords to your choruses!). It’s not much of a show for her, unfortunately – I feel a bit silly playing either to the entire other side of the restaurant or just to Jill. After two sets, Harry nicely lets me take off. When it’s a solo show and the audience can’t outnumber the performer, it’s a bit ridiculous.

I head back to Jill’s and have an excellent sleep on her couch, which fortunately fits me fine.

Cochrane is farther than I think from Medicine Hat and my GPS, which is normally oh so reliable tells me to turn left off of a bridge. “Recalculating… recalculating…”

But I eventually make it.

Jo-Anne is an artist and you can tell that immediately when you walk into her home. First of all, she just left the door hanging open and went back to making dinner – so I walked in and was greeted by several statues, paintings, and pieces of art in the main lobby. Eventually I found Jo-Anne and she told me that her late husband was also and artist – and you can tell – 2 artists make a lot of art and her house is a testament to their productivity. Her daughter Mary is also an artist – an aspiring horror filmmaker.

After a lovely fish dinner, during which Mary tells me her favourite horror films (Nightmare on Elm Street – old school!), I set up in an art filled living room. Soon enough people arrive and we all mingle. It’s a nice group that seems somewhat linked by a home schooling network (Mary and some of the other teenagers that arrive are all home schooled).

Another old friend, Sally, who lives 15 minutes away, also joins us. We knew each other back when I worked as a set and lighting designer and she was a stage manager and we’re now in completely different lines of work, not seeing each other in years.

Although we have easily over 20 people, the show is oddly quiet – to me at least. To this point, I’ve prided myself on perfecting some of my song introductions with jokes that always seem to get a laugh – but tonight, many of them don’t smile, so I’m not sure how well I’m connecting with them. But at intermission, I talk to enough of them that I feel like it’s going well enough.

One nice guy gives me the secret origin of the word “Wiccan” (from My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish Wiccan Wedding). Apparently it’s derived from a plant that when applied to certain sensitive body parts would make you feel like you were flying. These would be occasionally applied to broomsticks, which people would ride – hence witches “flying” on broomsticks. Innnnteresting.

The second set feels a bit better. In the front is a nice family with two kids – the youngest boy looks like he wants to fall asleep, curled up with his mom – but he’s a trooper and stays awake till the end – and when presented with 3 options for an encore he chooses all of them. We make up a song called “Falling Star” about the latest meteorite crash in Saskatchewan and then I play a new tune called “Hold on Maria” – which one guy tells me was his favourite of the night.

I sell a number of CDs, but have to run – I’m playing in Regina the next day and it’s enough of a drive that I’m crashing at my Dad’s again. I say goodbye to Jo-Anne, Mary, and the statues and then hit the road.

My GPS takes me the wrong way – I don’t care what it says – driving on a dirt road for an hour is the WRONG way. But like Cochrane, I eventually get there, load in the bare minimum and quietly crash.

… but before I take off into Saskatchewan away from the Home Routes concert series…

SPECIAL THANKS to all of my amazing hosts, to Tim, Mitch & Ava at Home Routes, who set up this house concert tour – and to everyone who came out to the shows. Whether you’d been to many before or it was your first time, please keep coming out to them and tell others – they’re pretty magical little shows and I’m looking forward to playing more of them in the future. If you’re interested in hosting a show like the ones that you read about here, check out www.homeroutes.ca.

I get into Calgary around 5 and arrive at Glenn & Jane’s place. They’re somewhat new to house concerts and we play around with the living room arrangement – they’re expecting 40 people –the biggest crowd yet. They’re also Castle Mountain people and have heard good things from their friends. House concert people and ski people are good people – and Glenn and Jane prove the same.

They also have two lovely goldens – Maddy and Lucy –both are big sucks and require a fair bit of petting and hugging.

An old friend, Alex, comes to this show – and we actually get 40 people – FANTASTIC! I sit by the fireplace and go through my set – I’ve now changed the Montreal verse of “Victoria” to:

They say Montreal will burn you
She’ll say “Laissez-faire”
But her little Alouetters
Couldn’t beat the Stampeders

Bored with Calgary verses, I also add a house specific verse:

I’ve been out here a couple weeks
I’ve been enjoying these plains
But I haven’t had quite as much fun
As I’ve had at Glenn & Jane’s

The crowd is excellent – good singing along and a momentum to the laughter that you only get with 40 people. I have some great conversations with everyone afterwards.

You can tell it’s a good party when someone steals someone else’s pair of shoes… fortunately mine are safe.

I head up to bed and spend some time on the internet. I’m sadly behind on my blogging. It takes time, people! Tomorrow night is Cochrane and the last stop on the Home Routes house concert tour. And while I’m looking forward to the rest of the tour, part of me is wishing I was heading back home.

All this tour, I’ve been watching the mountains waaaaaay in the background – barely there silhouettes and often invisible – but now I’m driving towards them… and they’re getting bigger.

They resolve into waves of blue misty watercolour cutout mountains – beautiful... I get distracted by the giant wind farms out here – I was told there’d be a lot of them but… THIS is a LOT of them! Holy! They’re everywhere and seemingly random groupings. I stick my camera out the window and try to get pictures while not dropping my camera and not driving into oncoming traffic.

And suddenly, while I was looking at giant fans, the mountain silhouettes turn into actual mountains with trees and snow and avalanche signs. They’re stunning – particularly after over a week of prairies.

I make a couple phone calls at Beaver Mines, the last spot for cell signal (Gerry, my host, says “watch out for moose” and then head into the wilderness of Castle Valley. Cruising along a gravel road, I kick up a ton of dust behind me. After about fifteen minutes, I spot a truck coming my way, kicking up even more dust behind it. We cross and for a second I’m lost in a sandstorm – I brake, slowing down – and thank god – a second later a deer dashes right in front of me across the road.

I drive much slower into the Castle Mountain ski resort and am welcomed by Gerry, who’s driven down to meet me on his quad with his 2 golden retrievers, Zella and Zuzu. Zuzu has brought a stuffed bear with her. We drive up the hill a bit to Gerry & Lynn’s place –a beautiful ski resort lodgy place with excellent warpy wood banisters (I find out later that Gerry builds these).

Gerry & Lynn are boisterous, friendly folks – they live up here with their pups year round and they’ve been doing house concerts for years now. Good people. We eat dinner and they tell me a bit about Castle Mountain – apparently one of the best skiing areas around (hey Ferney folks – these Castle Mountain people are dissing your black diamonds). Gerry is also a cancer survivor and Lynn controls her arthritis – both pretty amazingly tough, they’re unfortunately moving out of the resort soon, selling their beautiful place. Gerry explains that after a while you just need a change...

Zella, who likes getting her belly rubbed, is apparently the matriarch of the mountain – the alpha dog of, not only all the dogs in the resort, but also the bears, cougars, coyotes, etc. She’s an 11 year old dog, but still runs around like crazy – she’ll round up a pack to bark off a bear, or fight a cougar herself. Zuzu on the other hand is only 2, still carries her bear around, and is still learning how to fight cougars… they both like dog treats and getting their bellies rubbed.

I’ve heard all along that the Castle Mountain shows are a bit of a party and this one proves no different. Even though it’s a Monday night we get a pretty good crowd – and a quite eclectic one. There’s an older crowd who seems to want a nice night of music, a younger crowd, made up of local working crews, who seem to want a big party, and Gerry’s practically a crowd in himself – he likes to shout out jokes and banter with me – he’s hilarious. It occasionally feels like I’m playing three shows, one for each crowd. But surprisingly everyone enjoys themselves. By the end, Dear Aunty Emm somehow devolves into an improv song called “I hate farms” – dedicated to another Jerry, who owns one of the biggest potato farms in North America – nearby in Lethbridge. He’s apparently responsible for McCain’s French fries.

The young crowd is part of a local “Fire Safe” crew – they’re contracted to fly around in helicopters to forest areas where the trees are overgrown and to remove the brush below the trees, the dead trees, and basically anything overly flammable – they hack their way through these areas and then burn their piles up – working about 12 hours a day, it sounds like hard work, but pretty rewarding – especially since they may be responsible for stopping some of the major forest firest out here.

Outside there are 10 million stars in the sky. Gerry tells me that this is nothing – up on the hill you see even more.

After the show, I hang out with Gerry & Lynn, who tell me countless Zella stories, bear stories, wolf stories, coyote stories – basically letting me know how close I am to dying out here – and then wish me a good night.

The next morning, Gerry takes me out on the quad, with the dogs running ahead – we driving around and I learn about packrat tracks (apparently packrats are real – they like to collect shiny object like pop can tabs, and they also smell horrific), snowflake rocks (dark stones flecked with white volcanic rocks), as well as valley politics, poachers, mountain men, and a million other things. At one point, Gerry says, “well, we’ve gone up about 800 feet, we should turn around to get you off in time.” 800 FEET? Apparently all the roads just slowly wind up the mountain and we’ve been going up the entire time. We stop by some creeks and the dogs go swimming in the sub-zero water, crashing through the ice happily.

We get back and I pack up – heading back into Calgary, I can’t think of a bigger difference from this land of stars, bears, and mountains.

Okay, I’m sucking up a bit to my Calgary audiences, but still… I watched the game with my Dad in Medicine Hat and was more than usually excited when they won.

Here also are my dad's two cats - one weighing slightly more than the other.

Frank and Debby are a great folksy couple in Coaldale with a couple horses for sale, two dogs, some chickens and a nice farmhouse. They’ve lit up a Christmas tree out front for tonight’s show and I pull up next to the prettiest sunset I’ve seen the whole trip. Bright reds and oranges splash across the clouds and I remember again why, to quote Blue Rodeo, I miss those Western skies.

Coaldale, I find out, is a bedroom community of Lethbridge. It’s in the same desert areas as Medicine Hat and it’s much warmer than Calgary or Cochrane, where it felt like I was much farther north. Coaldale is known for its Birds of Prey rescue centre – which explains their tagline “The Town that Gives a Hoot.” Coaldale also recently prides itself on delivering the latest Canadian Idol, giving Medicine Hat’s Kaylan Porter a run for his money.

Frank and Deb’s place is great for shows, with two level audience seating, most on the main floor, but some up on the balcony above watching me through the railing. The audience arrives and seats themselves. The audience includes a fair number of church choir singers, so the sing alongs sound lovely. Apparently we’re in the bible belt of Alberta and I worry a bit again about “My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish-Wiccan Wedding”, but it goes over fine – or at least, no one runs me out of town.

I have to constantly remember to sing up to the balcony above me, tilting my head every second line. I ask everyone’s advice on how to get out to Vancouver and everyone agrees I should fly. I’m now a bit freaked out about the 2-day drive from Moose Jaw to Vancouver (with a show on the 2nd day) – in the little Suzuki Swift with no snow-tires.

The most awkward part of the show is when the door in the front hall next to me opens suddenly and I end up making conversation with the new guests who have joined us, clearly taking off their coats and shoes, only to find out from the audience, who can see into the front hall, that no one is there and the door just blew open by itself. The crowd forgives this though and by night’s end gives me the best encore clapping an cheering yet. I’m never prepared for encores, so I give them a choice of songs and they pick both. Nice.

Afterwards, one of their guests, a police officer in Lethbridge tells me that he really likes that my songs are all about real things and real people – he gives me a Lethbridge police pin that he designed and invites me to come on a “ride-along” with him, hoping that I’d write a song about the experience… I can’t wait – very cool.

Once almost everyone has left we do another jam – pulling out more guitars, songsheets and wine. A lovely end to a lovely evening.

I leave as early as I can – after pancakes – and head out on Highway 1 to Medicine Hat – where my Dad lives – and where I’m going to play the first show I’ve every played for him. I’m a bit nervous, honestly, but the shows have been going well and my voice feels good.

I get to my Dad’s and we hang out a bit – I make some more CDs and play with his cats, Katey and Siley. We talk a lot about the shows – something we don’t normally do over the phone – it’s nice to give him the inside scoop on what I think during the shows.

Finally, I head out to Blair and June’s place, which is on the outskirts of Medicine Hat – it’s a beautiful place that Blair built himself. Although they’ve done a number of these shows and Blair was the first to get involved with them, tonight he’s stuck in Ottawa, so June’s fling solo.

We chat happily and I play with her border collie, Sadie, who seems to have an unlimited need to chase stuffed animals. She has a stuffed skunk that makes a noise similar to a Transformer when you bite it. She bites it a lot.

June’s mom and dad show up and then my dad shows up. It’s not like the show will really be any different, but I’m still nervous about playing in front of him – maybe it’s because this is one of the biggest reasons why I wanted to play this tour. Maybe it’s because I’ve been playing “My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish-Wiccan Wedding” and I have no idea what my dad’ll think of it.

Unlike the night before, the crowd doesn’t really know each other, which makes for a nice night of socializing – everyone meeting each other for the first time. My dad seems to have a good time and I introduce myself to everyone.

June introduces me saying that Blair was really sorry he couldn’t be here – they’d listened to my CD and were looking forward to me coming the most out of the lineup – which again is very cool, since I kind of think my old CD is, well, old.

The chairs are lined up about Sadie’s width away from me – she snakes herself through the audience during the sets getting petted. The audience is excellent and my voice feels better than ever. Occasionally I glance over to my dad and he’s laughing and singing along with all of them – and he laughs with everyone during My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish-Wiccan Wedding – I’m a happy singer/songwriter. Betty, my dad’s wife arrives a couple songs in – she got stuck at work. At intermission I check in with them and they’re having a good time.

I meet a nice couple from Holland, Piet and Ina – Piet tells me the story of Piet Hein, a famous German pirate who fought the Spanish in Cuba, stealing all of the Spanish armada’s gold and silver. Apparently there’s a Danish song devoted to him. Who knew I had a famous Spanish-fighting Cuban-german pirate relative? There’s even a hotel chain in Amsterdam named after him.

In the second set I rib the Medicine Hat-ers about their city’s tagline, “The Gas City” – I told them that Rocky Mountain House was “Where Adventure Begins” and they could at least do “Where Gas Adventures Begin.”

June sings along in the background, mouthing the words to the songs off my album. In the second set, Sadie gets hold of her stuffed skunk again and goes off on a skunk solo during a song.

Eventually the night ends and we say goodbye to everyone – my Dad tells me he really enjoyed it. Someone tells June’s parents that they have a very nice son-in-law… ummmm… sorry, Blair!

I head back to my Dad’s and stay up with him and Betty for awhile – my Dad had a great time and wants to go to more house concerts – very cool.

I head back into Calgary and try to find a bank – everything I make is in 5’s, 10’s, and 20’s, so I have a wad of cash that I get nervous about carrying around. Afterwards I head to Chris & Jo-Anne’s – nice folks who are doing their first house concert.

Their kids, Cam and Griffin are great boys but totally different. Cam is into sports and Griffin is the resident artist – playing music on all sort of instruments, making comics, and generally being creative (sound familiar?).

Tonight’s crowd is interesting for a couple reasons – almost all of them are skiers and also, an old friend, Denene, from Toronto is coming to the show. The skiers are all serious skiers (case in point: Chris once got Jo-Anne an avalanche oxygen mask for a birthday present – yes, a mask, just in case you get buried in an avalanche… you have to REALLY want to ski, if there’s a chance there’s an avalanche, and you STILL go skiing!!!).

It’s nice to catch up with Denene - she’s getting married – Congrats, D!! – but part of my job is to meet everyone and kind of welcome them, so it’s hard to talk too much, just to her.

The show is downstairs in the basement. Like in Rocky Mountain House, my bedroom is right behind the performance space, which rocks! The show goes great – Chris & Jo-Anne pull out the most people on the tour so far and they’re an excellent group, with a rowdy front row. On the side, Gryphon watches – I think he’ll be playing house concerts soon. Or making comics. Or both.

After the show, two of their friends arrive late and I promise them a couple tunes once everyone else has left. They’re good folks who clean up completely. We head back downstairs and I ask Chris & Jo-Anne for requests from the show – and to my surprise Chris chooses My Eyes Wide and Seventeen – two of my older tunes – which is pretty cool. One of the nice things about this tour is the fact that I’m playing 2 hour shows, which means I have to play some of my older songs, which I don’t normally play – but it’s sweet to have people hear these songs again for the first time – and respond to them. Especially the somewhat more serious tunes – since I’m sometime known for my goofy tunes like Jetpack or My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish Wiccan Wedding.

We play songs until I feel like I’m going to fall asleep playing – so I stop playing and go fall sleep.