Yonder Mountain String Band
Strong winds from the west blew across a dirt parking lot… people tuck their heads, pulling their hats tighter to their skulls as they struggle against the wind, walking towards a dusty, rock strewn patch of earth… getting closer, t-shirts and the tarps they are laid out on struggle to stay grounded as their owners try to protect their wares from the dust… Girls in ruffled tutu’s and fishnet stockings are re-thinking their outfit choices in light of the chill the wind brings with it- but dust and wind are commonplace occurrences for these veteran Colorado concert goers… rocks brought along
The dusty road leads to an unseen location. Clouds of dirt and earthy grime pass through the air. As the dust settles and the road becomes steeper, Horning’s Hideout comes into view. “Happy Horning’s,” comes a chipper voice from my right. My window is rolled down and I turn to see a girl standing on the side of the road. She wears a neon-green shirt that reads “Volunteer”.
“Where should I park?” I ask her.
“Just keep driving,” she says with a devious smile. “You’ll find the way.”
I grinned and waved and continued down the rocky hill.