Evil Orcs

7.27.11

San Jose, Redwoods, Evil Orcs

We wake up in Fortuna to Monica blending berries and batter to make us deliciously decadent pancakes with butter and syrup and apples and coffee. She and Dave send us off proper, and we head to San Jose. They give us tips on great redwoods spots, which we keep an eye out for.

We're taking the Redwood Highway on the way down, and once we hit redwood country our pace slows down and we're spellbound, just looking for a place to stop and take in the scenery. the road becomes a winding tunnel through Endor, and we pull off and ecstatically skip into the forest like a bunch of smurfs.

It doesn't take but 50 feet or so to feel completely encompassed by some spiritual majesty, the trees are so huge, the ground is bursting with giant clovers the size of cup coasters, and everything is so green and leafy that sounds are quickly deadened, furnishing a little bubble of silence around your body wherever you are. We're all separated, climbing on logs the size of freight trains, running hands over soft furry sawdust-skin on felled tree arms, circumnavigating giant tree trunks the size of houses. Bigger than bodegas. Footprints that would call for $5000/month rent in the Brooklyn market. Am I being clear? Single trees older than cities, in a city of their own. One could walk in it for days completely spellbound.

We reluctantly get back in the van and move on toward San Jose. The roads are tight, winding 35mph curves that are tough on the van with the trailer. But we still manage the speed limit. Regardless, there is a cue of about 4-5 automobiles tailgating us, and when we finally reach a two-lane passing zone, we hear the roar of climbing rpms and to our left is a small car whose passenger leans way out of the window.

In the shrillest screeching vocal assault she can manage, a woman in her 20's shouts "FUCK yooooooouuuu Get off the fffffffffFUCKING ROAD you ASSHOLLLLLES!!!! AAAHHHHHHH!!!!"

It caught us so off guard that we collectively started cracking up. Until the next truck pulls up and is filled with muscular bearded demons with double handed middle finger salutes rattling off rounds like twin uzi's turning our hull to swiss cheeses. "FUCK YOU ASSHOLES!"

We have just driven through one of world's most majestic forests, apparently all but lost on these expressive impatient travelers. We are not sorry, by the way, for going the speed limit on the REDWOOD MOTHERFUCKING HIGHWAY. They screamed by us and end up 3 cars ahead of us at the next stop light.

Impressions of these two carloads of hotheads made the rounds in the van and quickly became tour memes. Endless hours of befuddled laughter has and continues to ensue as the retelling of our fellow road-goer's exclamations get more and more exaggerated. Blood curdling screams… the trees themselves must have shook their heads in collective disappointment at the human race. Shame on you, shrieking banshee lady. Shame on you, heaving truckload of impatient Orcs.

Needless to say, all of this wonderful North Cali stuff made us late to the show. Texas Toast House has had a lot of problems as of late with neighbors and cops, and had to cancel our performance due to our late arrival. We played here last fall, it was a highlight show because of how small and enthusiastic it was, everyone is there strictly to see bands, everyone is SUPER friendly and accommodating, and we had a great time. Despite not playing, they still passed a donation jar around for us and made us dinner and let us crash. THANKS Texas Toast!

It was a really cool dry night, so I actually slept in the van, which has a perfectly Matt-sized bench seat in the back you can pull down to a bed. Comfy end to a perfect day.