Greetings from Liberty…
They gripped the highway and held on like an ice cream cone, never touching a shoulder.
They gripped the highway and held on like an ice cream cone, never touching a shoulder.
Here we go with the third installment of words and pics from my Smiles and Miles Mugshot 2017 UK tour in Oct and Nov. I’m writing from Nashville on an early Spring morning, having just finished some yoga. I’m sipping some Guayusa tea to get my motor running, sitting on the futon watching the change of light, a time I always am grateful for.
We’re twenty seven miles from Roswell. We’re either gonna fill up or beam up. The state roads heading north and south are straight and long. Towns separated by thirty or forty miles. In Red, our Volkswagen, we are a minority. The road is traveled by mostly trucks, semis and pick-ups.
Pub singing in England is the combination of song and/or tune and ale consumption. It truly lifts the spirit whether you partake in the ale or not. The Mortal Man is typical in that the ceilings are low with exposed beams, a stone floor and mahogany everywhere including my guitar.