The distance between Traverse City and Manistee is composed of small highways, 55 and sun the whole way. We pulled up, hopped out, and the quieting beauty of the Ramsdell Theater hushed over us. The Ramsdell carries the weight of the lumber barons, and of the sleepy town of Manistee. Most towns I’ve visited on the eastern side of the state have that slowed down, casual appeal. There was a strangeness in the air for sure, things were coming to a close and people were already dreaming of their home time, of loved ones I’m sure. The Ramsdell had a stark red backdrop that made watching the performers dreamlike.
Marty Yaple, Local Manistite opened. Quite a melodic young fellow with some serious looping skills, as you could imagine I was appreciative. He did quite a job with the handful of songs he had time for.
Grahams sets was the most ethereal and dream like.
…upon crossing into the UP several days back, Graham taught us a song. It was one of the most unified moments on the salt tour: a van full of people singing soulfully, quietly, rolling through the sunshine of the UP’s highway 2, with the surreal blue water spanning out to our left…
We had been asked to join him up on stage for the last song of his set, which was this song, starting with Calumet Theater, 3 days prior….
We also recorded it for the last bridge house session
The night blared on, and I felt a return to that inner space, I was watching things from inside on stage that night, trying my best to remember those on stage with me, and that feeling, and that joy.
Off we rolled, the tour was finished. Lots of stories were turning a page in the van that night, three of us were bound for the airport the next day, Graham to welcome home a loved one from a very, very long adventure abroad, Samantha back home to Okie, and myself off to Cyprus for the month. Philadelphia was facing the long long drive through Ohio and Pennsylvania in the morn.
From the dark of the van, mid drive home someone chimed up that Osama Bin Laden had been shot and killed. A strange note to end the Salt Tour. We pulled in, unloaded the whole white beast that had carried us the past week, and retreated into a heavy sleep.
r.i.p. Salt Tour