I'm fit for a trip, but I'm not going anywhere much. The kids and I have a fun weekend getaway planned in a few weeks, and that will pretty much spell the end of travel for summer. I think part of what has me feeling used up and burned out is that I haven't had much time this summer to get away on my own. Nashville and IBMA loom ahead like an oasis, but deep, deep down I am ready to get away, for good.
I'm not saying I want to be on some permanent, wandering vacation through the hinterlands. That ain't really me -- I love to work although if conditions were right, I bet I could take a year off. But when I get some time and enough of it in a row to slip away, there's a place I want to go to see if I can hear it calling.
The Crooked Road
is a 250-mile and counting stretch of Virginia country driving in the state's southwesternmost corner. It leads you into the cradle of bluegrass, old time, and country music, the place where it is not most celebrated, but most begun. All the music I love really leads back to that place.
Earlier in the summer as Son of Mando and I started to dig a little into family history, I learned that ancestors on both my mother's and father's side came up out of Virginia. It is a place I've always loved, and could certainly someday call home. For now it would just be nice to spend a little time wandering this wonderful pathway of American musical history.
And since I can't be there now, until I can I'll wander it vicariously through this sweet and singable tune by The Dixie Bee-Liners
honoring The Crooked Road. Jump to the link and scroll up to the top of their MySpace offerings to hear what Brandi Hart described as a "love song" to one of their favorite places, a little bit of backcountry sacred to us trad fans.