Dear friends of The Waystation,
It is with a heavy heart that I bring you the sad but inevitable news that Waystation 1-the legendary Toyota Tacoma that spirited the band to and from every practice, gig and Wendy’s drive-thru from 1997 onwards- has rolled to a final stop.
After 13 years, 136,000+ miles, countless gigs, road trips, camping trips, parking tickets, Denver boots, cigarettes and zero carwashes its long journey has finally come to an end. I entertained visions of a Viking funeral pyre on Lake Michigan, or perhaps one last journey to Kentucky to allow the Tacoma to go out with a final blaze of glory and/or gunfire, but, in the end, I just pried off one of the Tacoma nameplates and handed the keys to the dealer before driving off in a new 4x4 Tacoma.
So sleep well, (t)rusty steed, ever faithful companion. I will see you again someday, in that great gig in the sky. Your long journey has ended, but in song, you are immortal. Thanks for the memories*.
How many highways have we roamed?
How many miles have we run?
So much adventure, so much fun
Tacoma!
How many mountains have we climbed?
How many darkened forest streams?
Livin’ wild, chasin’ dreams
Tacoma!
How many rivers have we crossed?
How many dusty country lanes?
Journey’s end, such a shame
Tacoma!
*(One of my personal favorites: the time we played a gig at Chicago’s United Center and in order to load in our equipment, they let me drive the truck right into the arena. You know the spot at center court where the Bulls logo would be for a basketball game? I parked the Tacoma right there. Pretty sweet.)
The new truck:
It is with a heavy heart that I bring you the sad but inevitable news that Waystation 1-the legendary Toyota Tacoma that spirited the band to and from every practice, gig and Wendy’s drive-thru from 1997 onwards- has rolled to a final stop.
After 13 years, 136,000+ miles, countless gigs, road trips, camping trips, parking tickets, Denver boots, cigarettes and zero carwashes its long journey has finally come to an end. I entertained visions of a Viking funeral pyre on Lake Michigan, or perhaps one last journey to Kentucky to allow the Tacoma to go out with a final blaze of glory and/or gunfire, but, in the end, I just pried off one of the Tacoma nameplates and handed the keys to the dealer before driving off in a new 4x4 Tacoma.
So sleep well, (t)rusty steed, ever faithful companion. I will see you again someday, in that great gig in the sky. Your long journey has ended, but in song, you are immortal. Thanks for the memories*.
How many highways have we roamed?
How many miles have we run?
So much adventure, so much fun
Tacoma!
How many mountains have we climbed?
How many darkened forest streams?
Livin’ wild, chasin’ dreams
Tacoma!
How many rivers have we crossed?
How many dusty country lanes?
Journey’s end, such a shame
Tacoma!
*(One of my personal favorites: the time we played a gig at Chicago’s United Center and in order to load in our equipment, they let me drive the truck right into the arena. You know the spot at center court where the Bulls logo would be for a basketball game? I parked the Tacoma right there. Pretty sweet.)
The new truck:
3 comments:
Is that an effect of the light, or do you have enormous Hutton Chops?
Fear not, it's just the lighting. The beard remains intact.
R.I.P Waystation-1. Give my best to the Saturn-1 when you see him!
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