Running Amuck in Asheville and Barking at The Orange Peel with Dr. Dog

"Cause no one should be sorry,
we're just another day
You can say you'll be back,
but you won't ever go away."

-Dr. Dog, My Friend




Driving through the Great Smokies and lower reaches of the Blue Ridge puts things into perspective. Raised on flat farmland in the Ohio River Valley, I have little or no experience with real mountains. Their beauty fascinates me, tickles my curiosity, like seeing an unknown vixen passing me in the street. What's their story? They also remind me that there is something much greater than "us". In the grand scheme of things we are bacteria; nothing but a speck. Before the roads and the tunnels, before there was a Untied States, before people were around to name them, they stood. When it's all said and done, when every one of us is dead and gone, as long as there is an earth for them to rise from, they will stand.

During my latest journey through Appalachia I made a conscious effort not to get lost in the scenery rushing at me from every direction. Making his daily, often grand exit, the sun left just a hint of red & orange light peeking over the mountaintops. With a misty rain falling it gave everything a sort of mystical glow. It reminded me of some fabulous landscape painted by Bob Ross. If there were anywhere to pull-over on the narrow highway I would have stopped to take a picture.

There was no such place. The roads connecting Tennessee to North Carolina are very tight with little or no shoulder. Dangerous, rolling 45 MPH curves keep drivers on their toes. A good leg of the drive features an 8 foot cement barrier to the left, preventing a head-on crash into on-coming traffic. To the far right there's only a thin guard rail to keep vehicles from sailing over the edge and down a densely vegetated cliff. I couldn't tell from where I was sitting but I had the feeling it was a very, very long way down. It can get a little hairy at times as massive convoys of semis, familiar with the roads, sail past in the truck only lane.

An hour after sundown the temperature dropped 20 degrees and the light drizzle was turning to sleet. From there things continued to deteriorate. Soon a steady stream of fat, wet snow flakes drastically limited my visibility and accumulated in piles all over the interstate. The proverbial shit was hitting the fan and it was being sprayed all around the room. The only thing keeping me from certain death was following the ruts left by the car in front of me. Regretting the one-hitters I'd been firing up for the last four hours, I was taking the curves at 10 MPH for fear of losing control. The trucks who'd passed me earlier were pulling off anywhere they could find room. Some poor bastard behind me lost control and did a 180 before he regained the proper heading. I gripped the wheel so tight my knuckles ached.

So why risk life and limb to drive through a mountain range at night, in February, during a snowstorm? Why for Rock 'n' Roll of course! Well that and to see an old friend. The Captain has become a bit of a regular in these posts (see Roo 2010). He'd been stationed in Asheville, North Carolina since we'd graduated from college and I had been promising him I'd come visit for years. I can't help that the slow season at my job happens to be winter. It's the only time of year I have extended time off. So for now any vacation I have falls between November and March.

Closer to civilization the roads were better maintained and after a while the snow began to let up. I resumed my normal highway cruising speed and made it to my destination on time and in one piece. The Captain's roommate, Road Dog (also of Roo 2010 fame), was the first person to greet me. He looked much better then the last time I'd seen him; pasty and strung out after a three day drug binge. He had to sit out for the last day of the festival and I still give him shit. We joked about it for a minute and then my host entered with cold beers and a fresh bong pack. Apparently we were wasting no time. Fine by me. My vacation was officially starting.

Several beverages/bowls later we met up with their posse at Lucky Otter for burritos. Apparently many of them were in town from various places for the Dr. Dog show as well. We played the introduction game and I immediately forgot everyone's name who shook my hand. Weed tends to do that. Name-tag stickers would have been helpful. Starving to death after seven hours in the car with nothing but sunflower seeds, I scarfed down a Zorba the Greek with minimal chewing. The hunger pains were gone and three margaritas later I was feeling pretty money. With a healthy base of food and alcohol processing in our guts, we reconvened at The Captains house.

The first thing I noticed about Ashevillians were their dogs. I'd been in town all of three hours and seen numerous pups with their owners strolling the streets. There were five in Cap's house including the two that lived there on a regular basis. Throw in the gathering of people and it was starting to get a bit cramped. Flying fur, tails wagging, drinks spilling and paws being stepped on. Don't get me wrong I love dogs but it was very different for me to be in such a "pro-canine" environment. It helps that Asheville has so much wide open space for man's best friend to enjoy. The Captain had a good sized yard himself so the dogs played out back while we played in side.

Over fantastic locally brewed beers I enjoyed my first ever game of Apples to Apples. I was dominating at the start but I slowly lost interest after becoming drunk. It was a school night for The Captain who had work waiting in the AM and most of the others were getting tired as well. I on the other hand wanted to soak in as much scene as possible in the three days I was in town. Luckily Bert was down to rage with me and he didn't mind playing tour guide. A friend of a friend was truly your friend in Asheville.

He was tall and slender with a full, bushy beard but his million dollar laugh was by far the most memorable thing about him. It had a way of building to crescendo, infecting those in ear shot until one had no choice but to chuckle along. We quickly became good friends and I had the feeling if we'd met each other without a go-between there would have been similar results.

We hit a dive bar and sampled even more home brew. I was partial to the Shiva IPA but after trying four different micros everything starts to taste alike. Totally smashed, we smoked a bowl with the bartender and called it night. Later, laying in The Captains guest bedroom, I reflected on day one of the Asheville Experience. I couldn't believe how receptive everyone was towards out-of-towners. Being the unknown introduced into group of old friends can make anyone feel tentative but halfway through the evening I was totally at ease ... like I'd been hanging out with these people for years, not hours. Looking at my notes now, there was a bit more but it's illegible. A good sign and a precursor of what was to come.


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Uncompromising joy, laughter and euphoria swelled inside me until I could stand it no longer. The drugs circulating through my system made sounds purer, lights brighter and every random thought a potential masterpiece. Whatever I jotted down in my notebook was sure to be New York Times Best Seller worthy. Flailing like a Muppet, I danced, jumped and shouted along to my favorite songs. I slipped my $5 shades down over my eyes to hide my identity and help me cope. Suddenly they burst into a massive jam session melting my skull in the process. Some cover I've never heard of (Heart it Races). Amongst other things, Bert's toothy smile beaming through his mountain-man beard was fucking with my head. The tint of my sunglasses made it look like his teeth were floating independently in space. I was starting to feel uneasy like a colony of Gardner Snakes had taken nest in my stomach. A persistent dizziness had my head spinning.

Easy man. Don't lose it. Deep breaths. You're with friends and you're going to get through this. Take a step back.

I posted up at the bar and ordered a 24oz draft Woodchuck Cider, chugging it down in three gulps. I don't even like hard cider but I was dying of thirst and it sounded better then beer at the time. It felt like the Molly had tripled my body temperature. Profusely sweating I ordered another cider and took it a bit slower. I was getting my freak-out under control. They were playing a slow jam so I took some time to collect my thoughts. I went over the day's events in my head, starting from the beginning ...

Waking up in a cold, unfamiliar bedroom is nothing new for me but it's always disorienting. After a few seconds of bewilderment I felt composed. Helping myself to a glass of ice water I was surprised at the mildness of my hangover. After smoking a roach any remaining ill affects of the night before were eliminated. I had taken the phone numbers of The Captain's friends so I could meet up with them for lunch and as I've said before, never in my life have I met a group of people so willing to accept a new member into the hive. We ate at a wonderful breakfast joint called Sunny Point Cafe and Cap joined us since he was only working half a day. In an Oscar worthy performance he had been setting up for weeks, he claimed his roommates had come down with something that he was now suffering from. I was just glad we would be able to pre-game together before the show.

After a short food induced coma, the two of us picked up Evan and his girlfriend Jennifer (part of the posse) and we went on a tour of downtown Asheville. It reminded me of a smaller, hillier version of downtown Nashville. We stopped at Urban Outfitters for Toby (Dr. Dog singer/bassist) inspired v-necks and a baggy slouch for Jennifer. We ducked into The Bier Garden for a few pints and a shot or two in honor of Evan's birthday. I stepped out for a smoke and met a kid from Charlotte also in town for the show. He was in his early twenties and very friendly but bit of a talker. Not to the point of being annoying but the type to dominate a conversation making it difficult to get a word in edgewise. He told me of his aspirations to be a musician and I told him about my Blog. We talked tunes for a while and exchanged cards but I was glad to get back to my friends, whom I'd been neglecting.

As we drove back to West Ashe I was mesmerized, like a kid watching Saturday morning cartoons, by the sun setting behind the Blue Ridge Mountains. I thought of all the songs I knew dedicated to this very sight. Having seen them now in person, I felt all the lyrics would have new meaning and strike a deeper chord. I attempted to take a picture with my cell phone but it would never do the moment justice.

We met the rest of the crew at Mamacitas to enjoy some Mexican which seemed to be Asheville's favorite ethnic food. The night before I'd talked to one of the girls about procuring some party drugs and she did not disappoint. Ashley was attractive in an unconventional way with a flowing mane of copper red hair. She had a tone, athletic build, a laid back disposition and a cute smile. I sat down next to her and handed over the cash. She placed a cellophane filled with white powder inside my palm. It looked like Molly was definitely coming to the concert with us. I love when pretty girls give me good drugs.

While cashing out my tab I made the startling discovery that I'd forgotten my Dr. Dog inspired shades. I'd stopped for gas in Kentucky on the way down and the neon yellow Aviators grabbed my attention immediately. I purchased them without a second thought, feeling they would be perfect for the show. Sunglasses, inside, at night. Yea, I was that guy. Heartbroken I pleaded for a ride but everyone was ready to head towards The Orange Peel, which was on the opposite side of town in relation to my car. Jennifer, in an act of pure awesomeness, lent me her car to retrieve my essential accessory. Once again, I could not believe how cool everyone in this town was. After some hastily written directions I was off and back (shades in hand) before anyone knew I was gone.

I'd been warned that it was impossible to smoke weed inside so three of us walked to a nearby house party to get our minds right. The Captain, Lisa and myself said hello to the hosts (friends of friends) and snuck into the laundry room at the rear. Lisa was short with a cute baby face and a crows nest of loose dark brown curls sprouting from her head. She was a chiller, a kind soul and a throw-back. The spiting image of how I imagined Hippies were during the free-love movement. Her unconditional kindness and over-all good vibes stuck with me the most. She sparked a spliff and we broke out the Molly into three equal parts. I toked the herb and huffed my share in one fluid motion. It burned my nose like Jewish horseradish, clearing out the sinus cavity. I sniffed the running snot back into my head, unwilling to waste a single drop of the wonderful narcotic. I knew it was good shit when my entire face went numb.

We entered The Orange Peel and found our friends. In classic Doc Dog fashion they had hand-painted back drops behind the stage resembling stained glass. Crafty bastards. After securing a place in the crowd, I started talking to a pretty brunette who was a new addition to our group. By that point the Molly was starting to take hold, so I was no doubt speaking drivel at a 1,000 MPH. I remember rambling relatively incoherently. She humored me by listening and she even asked a few questions, helping the conversation limp along.

Eventually we got to the topic of my writing and then she was really fucked. The next 30 minutes was a one sided barrage of blather until her apparent boyfriend showed up, making it painfully obvious that she was spoken for. Damn. I gave her my card anyway and wandered off to find The Captain. The lights went down and they came onto stage in white Rockstar shades and "Where's Waldo" inspired beanies. Other then a birthday shout out for Evan (no idea how/who got that up to them) the next couple hours were a bit of a blur ...

I do remember them all wearing matching denim suite jackets for the encore. They brought out a local guy, also in matching jacket, who's name eludes me. I can only imagine how awesome he must have felt. After his song, they did The Beach and then closed with Jackie Wants a Black Eye, my favorite song off the new album. The chemicals in my brain were starting to level out. The Molly was wearing off. I still felt the Speed like up but the Ecstasy-ish body buzz was long gone. I was a little bit glad. I didn't know how much more of it I could take.

"We're all in this together now, as we all fall apart," he said in his Bob Dylan croon. "And we're swapping little pieces of our broken little hearts." We all sang along (off-key) to the chorus, voices hoarse from hooping and hollering. As my favorite verse ended time seemed to stand still.

"Yesterday's love defines you and today that love is gone, tomorrow keeps you guessing, the roller coaster's rolling on." Never until that moment had those words rung as true. After the show I said good bye to my new group of friends and we all went our separate ways. The Captain and I had a little fight left in us so we grabbed a beer or two on his side of town before calling it for good.


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Spending the following day planted firmly on the couch, I reminisced about my short stay in Asheville. It's a tough place to sum up in words but my overall impression was very good. Basically it's a hippie retirement community with numerous amazing locally brewed beers. A dog lover's paradise where people tend to land when they trying to ditch whatever town they're from originally. The cities population is so transient the local minor league baseball team is called the Asheville Tourists. The only negative thing I can comment on is the growing hipster infection on the West side of town. Cliches include (but are not limited to); guys in girl's skinny jeans, multi-colored Chuck Taylor All-Stars, black thick frame glasses, PBR 40 ouncers and suspect tattoo choices.

Equally unimpressive was The Orange Peel. I heard murmurs the first night that it was one of Rolling Stone's top-25 best venues in America but I would have to disagree. With no balcony, the stage wasn't high enough to offer a great view but lucky for me I'm approaching tall so it wasn't awful. The sound was great, as it always is at a Dog show, and their performance was almost as impressive as the Bonnaroo set I'd seen a few months back.

Gripes aside, the people were hands down the best part of the trip. I had never been more welcome in unknown territory. Passing brief pleasantries with the locals and spending extended time with The Captains friends left a large and positive impression. Even the mentioned scene kids were cool once you got to talking with them. I only wish I'd come in the summer to enjoy the outdoor activities Asheville has to offer. However something tells me I'll be back before too long, as long as Asheville will have me that is, but judging by this trip that won't be a problem.


-J.R.