Notes from the Boneyard: Roadmap of the blues

It was around about this time a couple of years ago when myself and a good friend Chad Dughi embarked on a road trip through the Mississippi Delta.

Chad is an amazing guitarist, songwriter and blues historian.

A walking encyclopaedia.

Without meaning to and by complete accident, the trip was book-ended by Levon Helm.

Before hitting the Deep South, I began the journey in Woodstock at Levon’s ranch, where he spent his later life.

And the journey ended a couple of weeks later way down in Helena, Arkansas, where Helm spent his childhood.

It was unplanned that way, and completely surreal to find myself in that small rural town, unchanged in 100 years.

In between Woodstock and Arkansas we had travelled the old Highway 61, in search of blues musicians home towns and gravesides.

Robert Johnson, Mississippi John Hurt, Charlie Patton, Bukka White, Memphis Minnie… many more.

We found a lot, and also visited Dockery Farm, a place many believe to be the birthplace of The Blues.

Charlie Patton, Son House, Pops Staples… they all worked/lived there and played on those very porches.

We had already visited Robert Johnson’s graveside that day, so this was turning into an almost religious experience.

There was nothing for miles.

Just farmland.

We had no satellite navigatoin to guide us, just Chad’s knowledge, intuition and an old pocket book called ‘Roadmap of The Blues’.

There was a rain and thunder storm when we finally arrived and found the plantation farm.

We walked among the empty barns for shelter, and paid our respects by playing Chad’s old guitar as the thunder howled around us.

We had travelled up-an- down and round-and-round in the last couple of weeks.

Covered a lot of ground.

Helena, Arkansas, was our last stop on the trip before heading back to New Orleans where Chad lived and we would part ways, and I would travel on to Tucson, Arizona for another adventure.

I met Levon once. In his kitchen.

We had just watched one of his famous ‘Midnight Rambles’ at his barn.

A hair-raising experience itself.

Then we got called upon to come back and meet him after the show.

He was everything you’d want him to be. Sometimes meeting your heroes is a great thing.

He invited us back to play a ‘Ramble’, which we did a few months later.

Sadly he had passed away in the time in between, but we kept to the plan and played with his daughter Amy and the Midnight Ramble band.

And again in Austin Texas, we joined Amy and the gang, along with Steve Earle on stage for a rendition of ‘The Weight’ at a Levon tribute show.

I don’t know why I’m remembering and thinking about all this now.

Must be the time of year.

Or maybe something is pulling or calling from that direction.

Maybe I’ll drop Chad a line.