Wild Ride to Victoria

Bright and early, I'm out of Ucluelet like a shot. This town is closed up and I want coffee and breakfast. I'm not taking it from the gas station. I'm going to make Port Alberni, do some banking, check out the music store, and do breakfast at the old Blue Door Cafe down by the Port.

The Blue Door is OK. I get a big plate of breakfast here, but no newspaper and no conversation. I stroll down to the water to have a look around before leaving. "What's a bluesman doing here?" I turn around to see a couple of familiar faces. These are the folks who won the Tour jacket a few nights ago in Nanaimo! We do our hellos and chat a while. Sheri and Don are very friendly folks and before you know it I've been invited flying! Can I be back on the ground in time to make my gig in Victoria tonight? Heck the airport is on route! Don loves to fly, and I'd love to go up in his plane– so we're off!!
Here we are at the hanger.

She's a beauty, alright. About the same vintage as my 1963 Ford! Way cool!

The paint and brightwork are really sweet. Don and I are talking a mile a minute. By the time we get ready to take off I feel like we are old friends.

Taxi past the actual airport buildings. Ready for takeoff!! Go!!

There's low cloud cover today, and it's not great for what Don wanted to do. It clears back a little, so we decide to go up to Courtney and get some fuel. I try out my iPhone GPS up here and it works great! Wow.

Don's enjoying himself, but he's clearly a very serious pilot, especially in the uncertain weather we are into today.

I saw this out the window of the pilot's lounge men's room in Courtney. Honest, it's real. What a great ride. This is a much better day than I had thought it would be.

Back on the ground in Qualicum Beach, we say our good-byes and I'm off in the rain. I'm going to look forward to visiting with Don again. I hope he and Sheri will come and visit me in the good weather. Crappy, dark ride from here to Victoria. I buy gas, and GPS my way into town.

The Black Stilt is a coffee place out in plaza land. It seems friendly enough, close to one of the colleges here, so clutches of students are milling about doing internet stuff and pecking at their laptops. I load in, set up. Go out to eat. Come back. Wait. There's nothing in the listings saying I'm here. I'm not too optimistic about this prospect. I knew it was a small place, but was hoping for the best, and needed a Victoria venue.

Come showtime there is a small table of folks up front– products of my limited Victoria mailing list. Folks who saw me last year at my house concert. Nobody else knows I'm in town. I've done all the press stuff from my end. Sometimes it clicks, and sometimes it doesn't. It looks like Sue Folley has all the weekend press for her show on the following night. Oh, well. It's good to see these friendly faces and I jump into play mode for a couple of sets.

Post show, I am invited to stay with my friends Ed and Mildred– whom I have known in Halifax and London already– so several of us repair to their generous kitchen for drinks and post-show jamming. It's a late night, and when I hit my bed I will quickly fall into a deep sleep. I'll be dreaming of flying.