This story is going to take a little bit of explaining, but here we go.
My paternal grandmother, Byrdeen Anne Wise, passed away last year. She, very generously, left me and her other grandchildren a small inheritance, which I then took to using to acquire a new-to-me double bass.
Initially I’d started talking with Trav Short at Swing Low Strings about getting a Shen SB-150. Certainly not Travis‘s fault, but the manufacturer was taking forever. After several months, I’ve gone by, we agreed that it would be best if I found another way forward on this one.
On a lark, I turned to TalkBass to see what might be cruising around in the forums. About four basses down on the list, I found this gorgeous looking Upton Standard hybrid. The price was right, the seller was located in Long Beach, California, and in his posting, he said that he travelled frequently to San Diego and San Francisco for work.
I made contact with Nate, and we started going back-and-forth about the instrument and his possible travels. Turns out that he was headed to San Diego in a few days, so I reached out to my old/new pal Will, from the United States Marine Corps. Will and I had met on a joint venture up here in Victoria earlier in the year, he’s a fellow bass player, social media nerd, and we just became fast friends.Will, luckily was on leave at the time that Nate was going to be in San Diego so the stars were beginning to align.
My instructions were pretty simple. Would he consider spending $4000 of his own dollars on this instrument?We set a date for Will to check the instrument out, and for us to have a quick FaceTime.
As soon as Nate opened up FaceTime and showed Will playing bass, the look on his face told me everything. This was the one.
As luck would have it, Nate was scheduled to do a recording session at the very beginning of September that happened to align with a block of days that I had off from work. I’d originally intended on going to visit my parents, but with this recent change of circumstances, and a little bit of math, I decided to do a very very fast roundtrip to California.
Before I get to the part where the wheels hit the road, a little backstory on the day prior to my departure. No secret, I have ADHD. There was a bit of last-minute planning and scrambling that needed to take place before I left, and accordingly, I left it all to the last minute. The day before I left, I woke early, ran downstairs, quickly belted out a batch of beer for our annual end-of-summer party that was happening a week later, then ran to Royal Athletic Park for a rehearsal. I shot home, grabbed my bass gear, drove down to Hermann’s and loaded in quickly, before ripping back home, getting into my uniform, and going to do the anthem for the CFL game that was in town. Once complete, back to the house, get changed, rip back to Hermann’s for sound check, then home for a bite to eat before going back to the club and bashing out two sets of the music of Steely Dan with the Pretzel Logic Orchestra. Home, quickly pack necessaries into the car, and rack out sometime around 11:30pm.
At this point, we get to the trip. Up at 4:30am, I had to be in line for the ferry by 5:10, so after a quick coffee, I took up my position in the car, and headed downtown. Customs into the US was a breeze, and there’s something distinct about the smell of 5am that I secretly enjoy.
I got to work putting miles downrange on US-101, and before long I made it to Chehalis at a little stop kinda in the middle of nowhere. Got some snacks (still making good choices at this point), and stretched while the car juiced up.
Several charges later, I stopped just north of Talent OR where I racked out in a rest stop for the night. I’d hoped to make it as far as Yreka, but that just wasn’t in the cards.
I did get to stop at the Wolf River Inn, and was greeted by a neat little ghastly skeleton outside the charge stop. The general store there was generally full of shit snacks, but that was what I was after at that point in time.
The first night’s sleep wasn’t awesome. Backseat of the Leaf wasn’t the comfiest of places to stay, but it worked, and I managed to get about 7 hours of rest. Up at the ballsack of dawn, I hit the charger in Talent and set about Day 2 of travel.
Good thing I stopped when I did because I don’t think I would have had enough juice to make it through the mountain pass (nor did I want to do that in the dark).
California was not far off of where I stopped, and after a quick top up outside a Carl’s Jr in Yreka, I was back on the road. I got to Redding and had a chance to stretch out while going for a walk over the Sundial Bridge and down the river.
From there, the monotony of I-5 returned, and as the heat of the day increased, the speed of chargers also decreased. Plus a couple of chargers were inoperable, so trying to get power was somewhat problematic. A couple of waits were required, as were a few texts to the seller of the bass to push back our meeting time. Side note: WTF is up with Vacaville? That place looks like a manicured theme park more than a town.
Finally, after a brief rip down I-505 and I-80 (and zipping through the toll booth on the Bay Bridge while listening to Back to Oakland) I got into SF proper, into position, and took delivery of the package. All told, though, from the time I left home to the time I got to downtown SF was 37 hours.
This bass is INCREDIBLE.
But first, I needed to get home, which required food and drink and sleep.
I quickly got myself arranged into a hostel just outside of Chinatown. Next order of business was ditching my car. The hostel staff recommended a place just up the hill but they were already closed, so my next-best bet was the city parkade right next to the Central Police Station. On the walk back, I found a Mexican restaurant and quickly tore into a burrito bowl and a Modelo.
I simultaneously did a little research on dive bars, and found Red’s Place to be the nearest and most suitable option, so a few blocks later, I was getting into a couple of pints with Roxanne, the bartender. A brief wander around Chinatown before making my way back up to the hostel for some badly needed sleep.
I had a few hours to kill the next morning so after a small lay-in (ok, let’s be real, 8am), I went and got breakfast downstairs and had an interesting conversation with a gal I’d guess to be in her 80s who has been living in hostels around the world for the last couple of years or so. I listened to her stories, got some slightly anti-immigrant vibes off of her (despite her not being from the US to begin with), and we later parted company.
A quick fetch of the car, load the bass, and off to Berkeley for more adventure.
I’d had a couple of conversations via email with Jason Heath from Double Bass HQ, and he has always been gracious with responses and exchanges. I shot him a note out of the blue asking if he’d be down to do a lesson while I was in town and his response was that we should just ditch the lesson and eat pizza and drink beer, a notion I was very keenly interested in.
I needed some rosin first, though, so I asked him about where to procure some locally and he directed me to Ifsahn Violins in El Cerrito, just past Berkeley. I had some time to kill, so why not. Ifsahn’s shop is pretty amazing, I just did a quick browse and got me a new tub of Pops, then back towards Berkeley to get a charge in and some coffee.
Coffee came at the hands of Bay Area CoRoasters, and it was DELICIOUS. Also turns out that their facility was located right next to the Keith McMillen offices (RIP Keith), though I didn’t get a chance to pop in to that office for a look around.
I parked near the brewery we hit up, and used the public toilet next to the skate park. Stay classy, Berkeley.
Pizza and beer with Jason was great – we’ve got a few overlapping interests and acquaintances, so it was fun to spitball, share some pizza, and a pint. I was glad to have had the chance to meet up, and I’m hopeful we will again down the line at Midwest.
But there’s still some driving to do in this story.
The return trip had a little more flexibility baked in, as I didn’t HAVE to be home on Wednesday, though it would be nice. I set off from Berkeley just as rush hour was starting, and getting through the first bits of I-80/I-505 were slow and slogging. I really just had my sights set on Redding as the first place I wanted to get to, and I made it there in good time, stopping to charge, stretch, and play a little in the parking lot while I was waiting. I was feeling good, so I pressed on from there, ultimately ending up at a CalTrans rest stop outside of Yreka, but not before making some bad hungry decisions at Taco Bell.
I charged before going to sleep at the rest stop (free charging! Woo!). It wasn’t the fastest charger but it got me topped up to where I needed to be.
Sleep in the front seat of the car was actually reasonable. I slept in my woobie with the pillow wedged under the headrest and it was decent. The rest stop was quiet, nobody messed with me, it was dark enough, so by all accounts, just right.
In the morning, I hit the lineup for the sink with the other truckers and travelers, brushed and washed up, and hit the road at 5:30.
Driving the mountains while fresh was a good call. I stopped again at Wolf River Inn, this time using my stove to heat water for coffee while sneaking a charge.
Once through the pass and back to Oregon, the road chilled out significantly, and it was back to just straight driving. Charging speeds were a little better on the ride home, although I still wasn’t making the greatest time. Not a big deal, as by this point I’d determined that I wasn’t going to get home on Wednesday night, since I misread the schedule for the Coho and being that it was after Labour Day, there was no more 9:30pm boat from PA to Victoria, which meant one more night at a rest stop.
I hit up the Ham Radio Outlet in Portland on my way home, not knowing what to expect, but it hit the mark on a couple of fronts in that there were a collection of dudes who were super into their radio gear, and they had a pile of stuff on display. I was hoping to find something akin to a vertical antenna, but as usual my mind went blank and the only thing I ended up walking out of there with was a SMA-to-BNC connector for my second handheld radio.
On the road again, fighting traffic on the way out of Portland, I stopped for a charge on the Vancouver WA side, and resumed my journey. I got some very tasty gas station Mexican resto food outside of Olympia, and as the sun went down, got to experience the glory of US-101 in the dark. Not the best road to be driving when you’re tired and have been at it for over three days.
I finally made it to a gas station between Sequim and Port Angeles, and confusedly tried to get some snacks and a beer – a process that took longer than it should have. Made it to the rest stop for about 10:15pm, drank my Belgian Moon, ate my pep and ched, brushed up, and went to sleep.
Up the next day at 5:15, I went down the hill and got into the lineup for the ferry. I knew there were no resos available, but being that early meant that I had the best chance at getting a standby spot.
I went for a little wander as the sun came up, and lo and behold, ended up as the 3rd-to-last car loaded on. Finally, homeward bound.
Customs was pretty simple – I declared my purchases right away, got waved into the lot for further processing, and paid my taxes. The agents were great, and I ended up befriending one of them after the transaction as we are neighbours.
Home, finally, at 11am, whereupon I had a shower, a brief nap, and then continued about my day (appointments, family stuff, etc).
What a ride.
And holy heck. What a bass!
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