Brent Loveday: “We hired a novice driver named Tim. Unfortunately, he was educated far beyond his intelligence. Halfway through the tour, we had a show in Italy that would take us across the Alps. Tim was warned that his cheap off-brand GPS would suggest a dangerous route, but he ignored the advice. You can imagine my state of fear when I woke up to near-blizzard conditions atop a mountain pass. Our full-sized Mercedes van was meandering its way up the treacherous pass with a moron at the helm. We were approaching a ski resort, and skiers were frantically waving for us to turn around.
“We asked Tim WHAT the FUCK he was doing and WHERE the FUCK we were. His face and his voice belied any confidence he was trying to inspire. Just as we were mounting a mutiny, a lone chalet popped out of the evergreens. We rushed in to ask the innkeeper for the best directions. The woman looked out at our van, informed us that there were still two even more treacherous passes left, and solemnly shook her head. It was then, against Tim’s protests, that we tucked tail and turned around. We were late for the gig, but we arrived alive and still played. It was actually one of the best gigs of the tour.”
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Editor's Note: The Denver Bootleg is a series chronicling the history of local music venues by longtime Denver cartoonist Karl Christian Krumpholz. Visit Krumpholz's website to see more of his work.