Travelers enjoy a cup of coffee and a high octane breakfast off the griddle

Cache Creek, B.C. The diner was always packed at this fine local hotel called The Oasis. We ate many dizzy breakfasts there, shaking off the body aches that occur after profound musical experiences. The Greyhound busses came and out popped some rather weary late night souls, all headed to a place called work or home, and in some cases, the end. El Jefe was heard to say "hmm, bad for country, good for blues!" Perhaps neither. Next door the desolate strip mall looked like a tornado had recently raged through. The economy stalled here after 9/11, except for fuel sales, of course. Go figure.