The Chool Bus (ch16)

CHAPTER 16: A different breed of preppers in Spokane, a visit to the Grand Cooley Dam, and a pilgrimage to the home of Grunge Metal’s birthplace.

The gang was stoked! Through all those years and hundreds of gigs, The Forks had never been to Seattle, the birthplace of their favorite music hotbed. And now just a couple more stops to make and they’d be poised at the very doorstep of Grunge Mecca.

First, Spokane… Jack wanted to visit a former colleague and her husband. She, former office manager now golf pro. And he, former hockey pro and veteran of the now turbulent software development business. His firm was grappling with the rise of large language artificial intelligence models (AI) transforming job prospects for code jockeys into something more akin to project management positions. AI was indeed usurping entry level programming jobs and code jockeys were either learning to better interface with people or find other lines of work. Fortunately, Jack’s friend was boardroom politics adept and still gainfully employed.

When the Chool Bus rolled past the address provided, surroundings resembled a Mad Max wasteland so Billie asked Jack to confirm. They could see what looked like a fairly nice house a quarter mile off the paved road. On a dirt road with the surrounding land littered with loose barbed wire, abandoned vehicles, rotting boats, and piles of garbage. 

“Is this it?” cried Billie. “I don’t want the Bus stuck in quicksand, brambles, or a drug deal gone bad.”

Jack put a call into his old friends, Mai and Brandon Wilson. “What gives, Girlfriend? We’re here, but the neighborhood doesn’t look altogether settled… are we in the right place?”

Brandon said he could see the bus from his living room window so, “Yeah, this is the place.”  

Jack introduced the Forks to his friends, former colleagues, hell mates. Mai was from Cambodia and Brandon was Canadian. They were a colorful couple. She was Asian through and through, and he was cracker as they come, she’d refer to him as Honkey from time to time and he affectionately called her Dragon Lady on occasion. The most interesting thing about this colorful couple: Their kids, a boy and a girl, were about as normal as their parents were eccentric. And all of them under a fortified, swanky, million dollar home, nestled in a grove of trees, at the lip of a gorge with a freshwater creek at its base, stocked with provisions, self-sufficient power generation, and weapons ready to survive a zombie apocalypse.

“Wow, this is a far cry from the suburban tract home you had back in the aughts,” said Jack. He was still puzzling over the area’s apparent desolation, and why these folks would choose it for their great Spokane redoubt. 

“Yeah, well apparently your sense of paranoia is contagious.” Mai was fairly snappy with the comebacks. 

“But why? Won’t this area get developed somewhere down the road?” Jack was a self-confessed paranoid, but not pathological, and not nearly enough to invest a million dollars for an opulent mansion plopped down in a rusty dusty junkyard.

“Hey, we’re only a fifteen minute drive from the nearest provision outlets. It’s not as isolated as it seems.” Mai was whipping up her famous sticky rice and spicy dipping sauces. She loves those traditional dishes but Brandon prefers pizza and beer, because, you know… honkey. So, whenever Jack comes around, Mai puts on the spread. It’s a spectacular introduction to Asian food for Professor T, Billie, and Buck. 

After a couple hours of visiting and cleaning up after the meal, the Forks remounted the Chool Bus. A ninety minute drive to the Grand Cooley Dam. They’d catch the 2:00pm guided tour, then push on to the outskirts of Seattle where they’d settle in for the night. In the morning, after enjoying some famous Rain City coffee and danish, the Forks would make their way to London Bridge Studio. This is where a who’s-who of Grunge bands recorded in the 1990s. The first four Alice in Chains recordings, Pearl Jam’s biggest seller, 10, Soundgarden’s major label debut, Louder than Love, Mother Love Bone, Temple of the Dog, and, the thing that Mork T wanted to see most, the vocal booth where Alice in Chains recorded, Man in the Box

Next, they’d make their way to Black Dog Forge, a famous practice place for Soundgarden and Pearl Jam to name just a couple. Some of the most classic grunge cuts were written in that basement rehearsal space. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t get inside. They were, however, able to visit room #207, the Sub Pop Suite at the Palladium Hotel, lots of Sub Pop memorabilia, especially the most famous Sub Pop recording, Nirvana’s Bleach

Then, of course, a visit to the Edgewater Hotel, a veritable blizzard of music memorabilia, starting with the ‘60s when the Beatles rented rooms after being rejected by other hotels in the area. After that, many other iconic acts stayed at the Edgewater, Led Zeppelin and many more. 

After this whirlwind jaunt through Grunge Mecca, the Forks stopped for a late lunch at the Sub Pop founder’s favorite spot, Pho Bac. Back in the day, Pho Bac had two menu items: small and large bowls of Vietnamese soup, considered medicinal in some circles. Mia and Jack’s favorite work lunch choice back when they were Spokane hell mates in the aughts. Billie shared the sentiment and insisted, “We GOTTA have lunch at Pho Bac!” When they got there they found the original location was closed, but a new one was established a few short yards away… 

Ummmm Pho… good music… good friends… good soup. 

NEXT WEEK:
Professor T explains the rationale for his research.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links

This Land: New Hampshire

On a July Monday in the year of our lord, 2025, Ronnie and Rocinante woke up to a new day, in a strange land. And with all apologies to the natives, it appears they brought the Kanorado weather with them. Average July temps in Derry New Hampshire (no, not that Derry) is between the upper 70s and mid 80s. Today, it’s 92 with tomorrow’s forecast predicting temps up to 96! Fortunately, no one in the Derry Public Library knows it’s Ronnie’s fault… woo hoo!

Anyway, New Hampshire, the Granite State. The first to weigh in on the various candidates making bids to run the most powerful nation on the planet (till it’s not). These loopers are fiercely independent, proving themselves resilient and worthy from the jump.

On January 5, 1776… long, long ago, the cantankerous loopers of New Hampshire decided they’d had enough of old King George. Wham… first colony to declare independence! Nearly half a year before those other guys got around to signing the Declaration. Brave souls, or maybe just impatient.

“Live Free or Die!” It’s what they say.

Established in 1629, named after some place in England… typical. Then came the British troubles. In 1774, before most folks even knew what was what, New Hampshire jumped the gun seizing Fort William & Mary, just like that. Two years later, they had their own government and constitution. First again. No dilly-dallying for these loopers.

“Live Free or Die!” Sounds about right.

Later on, when the big American family squabble happened, the one they called the Civil War, New Hampshire was all in for abolition. Thirty-two thousand soldiers, give or take a few, marched off to fight for the Union. After that unpleasantness, boom… factories everywhere! Textiles, shoes, paper. The Amoskeag Manufacturing Company in Manchester was the biggest cotton mill on the planet. Can you imagine? Then came the French Canadians, by the droves. Now, a quarter of the population has French-American blood. And these days, New Hampshire is rich and smart. Go figure.

“Live Free or Die!” A mantra, if you will.

They’re not big on religion here. Least religious U.S. state, they say. Staunchly libertarian, they won’t be taking orders from priests… they really like their freedom. A Pew survey in 2014 showed that thirty-six percent here were part of the fast growing demographic known as the “nones“. Thirty percent Protestant, twenty-six percent Catholic. Not many Mormons or Jews. They don’t go to church much, these New Hampshirites. Only fifty-four percent are “absolutely certain there is a God,” compared to seventy-one percent elsewhere. Curious, isn’t it? Oh, and here’s a kicker: New Hampshire is the only state to have a woman governor and two women as U.S. senators. There’s another kick in the agates for the patriarchy.

“Live Free or Die!” And make room for the ladies in your ol’ boy network.

Now, before all the European colonizer hullabaloo, the Abenaki tribes were here, minding their own business. Different cultures, different gods, but same language, mostly. People were living near Keene up to twelve thousand years ago! Imagine that. You can commune with the sacred spirits in the White Mountain National Forest, winding through the Appalachian Trail.

“Live Free or Die!” A long, beautiful nature hike.

On Mount Washington, they call it… the “World’s Worst Weather.” Hurricane-force winds every third day. Through the years, more than a hundred visitors underestimated that fury, and now they cant. Little dwarf trees, all matted and gnarled, like angry bonsai. So it goes. And the Old Man of the Mountain, a face carved by nature itself, watched over Franconia Notch for ages. Then, one day in May 2003, poof! Gone. Just like that. And Ronnie thought Kanorado had windy days.

“Live Free or Die!” Until you can’t.

Lakes, ponds, rivers, streams. Eight hundred of the first, nineteen thousand miles of the second. Hard to keep track of all this windy river vertigo. Sometimes state boundaries get bungled. New Hampshire and Maine had a little squabble over the Piscataqua River boundary, specifically some islands. The Supreme Court said Maine owned them. But New Hampshire still says the naval shipyard on Seavey’s Island is theirs. Stubborn, these Granite Staters.

“Live Free or Die!” And don’t tread on me.

New Hampshire has the shortest ocean coastline in the whole darn country, eighteen miles. Blink and you miss it. Hampton Beach, where folks go to get sunburned. And the Isles of Shoals, nine tiny islands offshore. Four of them are New Hampshire’s. Poet Celia Thaxter had an art colony there. And Blackbeard, the pirate, supposedly buried treasure there. Treasure and art. A strange combination.

“Live Free or Die!” For rum, booty, and framing services perhaps?

And New Hampshire has produced an impressive list of notable people: Mary Baker Eddy, who started Christian Science. Robert Frost, a poet who knew a thing or two about lonely roads. Alan Shepard, who went to space. Ronnie James Dio, the flaming heavy metal icon. Dan Brown, who writes those mystery novels. Adam Sandler, Sarah Silverman, Seth Meyers… funny people. So it goes.

“Live Free or Die!” Or at least, take it with a generous sense of humor.

And with that, again we point out the fact that New Hampshire’s average July temperature ranges from the mid-70s to mid-80s. As this entry gets logged the thermometer is in the mid-80s, on the way to a high of 96! Now without sounding like a total narcissist, Ronnie is rehearsing excuses in case anyone were to irrationally put the blame on him and Rocinante for bringing the Kanorado “Dawg Days” all this way north. You gotta admit, it is an astonishing coincidence. On the drive from Burlington VT to Derry, NH, the conditions were gorgeous. Light rain and upper 60s to mid 70s. Ronnie was breathing a sigh of relief for getting away from the punishing Kanorado summer heat, only to find he had apparently brought his customary suffering with him, to the astonishment of the Yankee natives.

PS: There is a silver lining… Ronnie always manages to find one. That being, evening temps cool down significantly so that Ronnie’s able to switch the ceiling fans off around 10 or 11 P.M. as they aren’t needed for the rest of the night. So… there’s that.

Onward through the fog… Rohlfie

You won’t get far…
In the Granite State…
With Shuck and Jive…
They can’t relate…
First to weigh in…
On the Presidential Race…
Live free and chalk it up to fate.