A nice quiet summer in NYC seemed like just the ticket when I got a phone call. Stephen owed me money and felt bad that he couldn't repay me right away, a significant sum nonetheless. So he had a decent idea.

"Look, I just got a brand new credit card with a huge limit, so here's what I think, OK... OK," "Get to the point jackass," I replied, waiting in line at Grey's Papaya for my two dogs and juice. "Fly out to San Diego, come on tour with me and I'll pay for everything with my credit card: gas, food, 'tels, whatever. Take half of all the bills and keep track in a ledger, and that can be what I pay you back. Isn't that cool?"

I gotta admit, for an idea that involved being completely irresponsible for three weeks, it started making a lot of sense. I would be doing tour for next to nothing, I had all the hot tickets and others could be procured on lot without too much trouble. As I walked up Broadway while eating the dogs and drinking the juice, I came up with tons of reasons not to go: Stephen's Jeep was on its death bed, I should get a job, NYC is a lot of fun, you'll drink too much, you're too old, etc. etc.

But I knew I was going, I was only fooling myself. It came down to two things.  First, I had pretty much written the money off anyways, Stephen being about as fiscally responsible as a sailor in a whore house; second, it's Phish. I was being sucked in, the gravity of the situation was just inescapable. I packed extremely light; I don't have many things, and hoped a flight out of JFK to San Diego. Spent a night in Ocean Beach and made a brief stop in Tijuana for fuel.

No stranger to the scene, I fell right back into old habits. Sipping New Castle ("the taste of tour"), walking around looking for the best food, seeing old friends, catching up, meeting new friends, relaxing under trees and in the corners of lots. Seeing my favorite band almost every night in a new place, watching the shows just get better and better. Talking shit about how I wasn't going to the tour end festival (no one believed me).

Only a few incidents of note. We lost reverse on the Carcahaines Bridge before the Shoreline show; it only took a small bump. So when you parked, you had to think ahead. Coolant leaks, oil leaks, windshield washer line cracked, all fixed with duct tape. And the odometer didn't work, so when you pulled in for gas you had to reset the trip meter. I've done tour in much worse, but not that far for that long, there were some definite hauls on that piece.

In the end I was glad I did it, I got most of my money back and I had a great time, do it again in a minute.

- Ollie