It was a quiet week.
Well... quiet might not exactly be the right word.
Sunday started innocently enough when we finally hung our Above & Beyond “Bigger Than All of Us” flag on the side of the coach. We’re officially close enough to ABGT700 now that subtlety has pretty much gone out the window.
Later that afternoon, we heard there was a park-wide gathering happening down at the viewing deck, so we decided we should probably be social and make an appearance.
Of course, traveling anywhere with three Oscar Mayer wieners is never as simple as just walking out the door.
Twenty minutes later, after wrangling Ivy, Fern, and Marble into harnesses, convincing everyone that yes, we really were going for a walk, and finally making it onto the path, we headed toward the viewing deck.
Naturally, as is our luck, everyone was leaving by the time we arrived.
A few people told us to stop by their site on our way back, though, so we did. Somewhere during all of this, Krysta decided that I should DJ for the smaller crowd that remained.
You don’t have to ask me twice.
Back to the coach I went for the trusty DJ table, gear, speakers, cables, and everything else required to turn an innocent RV gathering into something slightly more questionable.
But before the “noise” could begin, there was one very important job to handle first: burgers.
We recently picked up a new Camp Chef griddle, and this was its first real test. Thankfully, it went off without a hitch. Burgers cooked, everyone fed, and now it was time for music.
And then came the bass.
We already knew our particular flavor of house music probably wasn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea, and eventually the park manager came over and asked us to turn it down — more specifically, turn down the bass.
Well, damn.
There went the sound.
House music without bass is basically just someone banging tin cans together with a toothpick, so I played a few more tracks, wrapped things up, and shut everything down around 10 PM.
That was actually a full hour before quiet hours started at 11, but there wasn’t much point continuing if we couldn’t actually hear the music the way it was supposed to sound.
And just like that, our last full week before ABGT700 officially began.
There was a LOT to do.
3D-print designs needed to be finished. Custom signs needed to be made for our friends Paul and Deb. Shirts needed transfers. Giveaway items needed transfers. Signs needed printing. Things needed ironing. Things needed reprinting because apparently there is always one more thing that needs reprinting.
And Jose and Peter would be arriving Thursday to stay with us for ABGT700.
So naturally, during this incredibly productive and responsible week, I — William — finally broke down and bought myself a bottle of Knob Creek.
A 750ml bottle.
$63.
Then Washington added its approximately 97 different alcohol taxes, fees, penalties, surcharges, gallon taxes, emotional-damage assessments, and whatever else they could come up with.
That was one expensive bottle of bourbon.
And, as I’m writing this post...
It’s gone.
Moving on.
Since DJing at our campsite was apparently going to require neutering the bass, I decided there had to be another solution.
So I hopped on the scooter and started exploring the entire Crescent Bar Recreation Area.
Our Thousand Trails campground is really just one little piece of the much larger Crescent Bar area, and once I started exploring, I realized there were some seriously cool places hidden around us.
Then I found it.
Actually...
I found three of them.
Three different pavilions that looked absolutely perfect for a DJ setup.
Now all I needed was permission.
I eventually tracked down one of the rangers/managers responsible for the larger recreation area, explained what I wanted to do, and got the answer I was hoping for:
We could DJ at the pavilions during normal recreation hours.
GAME ON.
Friday evening, we loaded the truck with DJ gear, lights, dogs, humans, cables, and probably enough equipment to make anyone question whether we understood the concept of “camping,” and headed toward the cliffs.
And wow.
Crescent Bar gave us one hell of a backdrop.
The cliffs towering around us, the Columbia River nearby, the lights glowing as the sun disappeared, and music bouncing through the pavilion made for one of those random evenings that ends up becoming a favorite memory.
I played for about an hour and a half before we finally admitted something terrible was happening.
It was getting cold.
Like...
55 degrees cold.
Which is obviously nowhere near actual freezing, but for two humans from Florida and three short-legged wiener dogs, this was basically an Arctic survival situation.
By about 9:15 we surrendered, packed everything back into the truck, turned on the heat, and headed home.
Saturday started with lunch at...
NAPA Auto Parts.
No, we did not suddenly develop a craving for brake pads, spark plugs, and windshield wipers.
A very well-known traveling fish-and-chips food truck On The Hook Fish & Chips was going to be parked in the NAPA parking lot from 11 AM to 9 PM, and I had found out about it through Instagram.
Naturally, I messaged them ahead of time and told them we intended to order one of everything.
Because apparently moderation is not something we practice on this trip.
And Saturday, we pretty much did exactly that.
Fish & chips.
Cod bites.
Bacon Clam Chowder.
Slaw.
The only casualty was the onion rings, which they didn’t have available that day.
Bummer.
Our bellies were still extremely happy.
Everything was delicious, exactly as expected.
I had actually eaten from this same food truck brand at one of the Above & Beyond “Bigger Than All of Us” shows we attended, so I already knew what we were getting ourselves into.
Thankfully, they did not disappoint.
Fed, happy, and probably carrying enough fried fish to put us into a temporary coma, we headed back to the campground.
The rest of Saturday seemed like it was going to be pretty uneventful.
That lasted until I went outside to cook on the Camp Chef again and our neighbor — who we hadn’t actually met yet — walked over and introduced himself.
Apparently he had noticed solitudestateofmind.com plastered all over the outside of our coach and curiosity finally got the better of him.
He had checked out the blog.
Well, hello new friend!
As we talked, he mentioned that his son was also a DJ.
Interesting.
Then came the next part.
He plays dubstep.
Now, if you know us, you already know dubstep isn’t exactly our usual cup of tea. We’re much more at home somewhere between Anjuna, melodic house, progressive house, deep house, and tech house.
But we’ll listen to just about anything.
They were visiting from Reno, Nevada, because his son was playing that evening before a much bigger headliner back home.
A DJ conversation started.
Then another DJ conversation.
Then someone suggested getting my gear out.
Next thing you know, despite having already been told once that week to turn the bass down, I was somehow being convinced to set everything up at our campsite again.
Bass and all.
I was reluctant.
For approximately twelve seconds.
The funny part was that basically everyone around us that evening was already playing music, and some of them had systems so bass-heavy they were overpowering us anyway.
We kept ours respectful enough that we could still sit around, talk, and get to know our new neighbors.
They were only there for the weekend because they were attending what we quickly learned is essentially an annual tradition at The Gorge: Labor Dave, the Dave Matthews Band Labor Day weekend shows.
So I played about an hour.
I started with some house and tech-house tracks, eventually worked my way into some dirtier stuff to prove that, yes, I could get a little nasty with it too, and then closed things down with some deep, bass-heavy Boris.
But there was only one proper way to finish a set for neighbors from Reno.
A place built around casinos.
Boris — “16 Red Even.”
Come on.
It had to be done.
Sunday arrived with a much slower start.
More 3D printing.
More ABGT700 preparation.
More shirts.
More transfers.
More giveaway items.
And more of Krysta’s latest obsession: Ninja Transfers.
At this point, I’m pretty sure Ninja Transfers may eventually be responsible for the retirement of her Cricut.
She LOVES these things.
Honestly, we may end up replacing some Cricut equipment with a proper heat-press setup because now that she’s discovered how easy these transfers are, I can already see where this is heading.
Bulk production.
Because apparently what our RV really needs is more equipment.
Sunday evening, our new neighbors geared up and headed back to The Gorge for the final night of Labor Dave.
We said our goodbyes because they would be pulling out really early the next morning, and then we settled in for a rare low-key evening.
And then Monday arrived.
Labor Day.
The unofficial end of summer.
It’s strange to even write that.
It feels like we were just preparing to leave Florida.
We were talking about this giant cross-country journey, figuring out routes, preparing the fifth wheel, planning stops, and wondering what the next several months would actually look like.
And suddenly summer is over.
Nearly four months have passed since we started making our way across the country toward Washington.
Four months of campgrounds.
Mountain passes.
National parks.
Unexpected repairs.
New friends.
Old friends.
Wine.
Earthquakes.
Dogs.
Music.
Ridiculous ideas.
Even more ridiculous ideas that somehow worked.
And now the thing that has been hanging over this entire journey is finally here.
ABGT700.
In just a little over four days, we’ll be walking into The Gorge for the first night of Above & Beyond’s Group Therapy 700.
The destination we have been driving toward all summer.
So we spent Labor Day doing exactly what you’d expect.
More ABGT prep.
And then, because summer deserved a proper sendoff, I packed the DJ gear one more time and headed to another one of the pavilions I had discovered during my scooter expedition.
This time I had a special two-hour Anjuna set prepared.
Anjunadeep.
Anjunabeats.
Progressive.
Trance.
A musical preview of what we’re about to experience at The Gorge.
Unfortunately, Washington once again decided to remind us that summer was ending.
Cold.
Windy.
Very cold.
Very windy.
But we weren’t stopping.
So I turned the music up, and the humans and dogs spent the next two hours dancing, jumping around, and generally moving enough to prevent hypothermia.
Florida survival tactics.
When the final track ended, we packed everything back into the truck yet again and headed home.
This time we went to bed early.
Because if there is one thing we know for certain, it’s that we should probably bank as much sleep as humanly possible before this weekend.
Something tells us ABGT700 is going to be a sleep-deprived kind of weekend.
But it’s also going to be filled with memories.
Great food.
Great company.
Old friends.
New friends.
New experiences.
And above all...
MUSIC.
The thing that has connected so many of the people we’ve met along this journey and the thing that will bring thousands of us together at The Gorge this weekend.
Next week’s post is going to be a big one.
And when it’s all over, for the first time in nearly four months, we’ll point the truck east.
The Road to ABGT700 will officially become the road home — although we still have plenty of adventure ahead of us.
We need to make our way toward the Beet Harvest by September 20th.
And just a few days after that...
We have a surprise.
For you.
For us.
And especially for Ivy.
Let’s just say we have a feeling Ivy might be a little star-struck.
And there’s a pretty good chance we will be too.
But that story will have to wait.
Until next week...
