Day 7 stats-

Vehicles decommissioned: 1
1993 Chevrolet Suburbans purchased by Marriage Records: 1
Hourlong rides Kyle and Erik have taken with a Mennonite woman and her 3 boys: 1
Bibles in possession: 3
Ball caps from Mennonite car garages received: 2
Shows in Lawrence played: 1
Burger Kings broken into: 1

I'm in the back of our "new" tour vehicle, an apple red '93 Chevy Suburban.

Our beautiful, friendly van home, which belonged to Brian, is now lost to west Kansas' prairies, wind and the Mennonite disciples who haunt its vast land-oceans.

Instead of going into all the boring details about our stay at the Motel 6 in Hays—the beer blessing; the ghetto rigged tuna sandwiches or their effects on Chris digestive system—I'll just relate this story:

After trying all morning in vain to find an obscure, infamously unreliable Dodge transmission for less than 2,000 dollars in one of the most sparsely populated areas of the US, we decided to make the tough choice to get a new vehicle. We were flat broke; the shows—though rich in fun—pay just enough to fill the gas and get a meal or two a day. So once again in the White Fang mythology, Curtis Knapp and Marriage Records bailed us out.

However, the vehicle was 50 miles away and we were completely immobile. Curtis had been on the phone with some people in Quinter who had a Suburban and they agreed to drive us out to the pick up the truck. Serendipitous in its immediacy, the guy I was to go and meet (previously just a friendly but businesslike voice on my phone named Brenton), calls me to say his wife is at the Arby's two blocks from our crashed van. He mentions to me that she will be wearing a bonnet like a Mennonite woman wears, as if I might overlook that very obvious style choice.

Funny to me now, but I never really explained to the band that she was coming. It happened pretty quick. All of a sudden—a surprise to all but Kyle and I—a Sprinter van rolled up and I quickly mumbled that Kyle and I needed to go with this Amish-looking woman. In less than 30 seconds we had gone from hotboxing the van to being in a near-silent vehicle with a deeply religious woman. I'm sure you can imagine:

"Over there," she points at a white farm house in a distant field, "is our church! We're building bathrooms now. Right now we have outhouses."


"You go to a church back home?"
"Uh... Not really?"

Her boys stared at us like we were strange, goofy aliens. I guess we are. We were a little spaced-out, for sure.

Anyway, after securing the ride, driving it back to dudes, unpacking the van, packing the truck and driving to Lawrence, we finally got to let our rocks out and play the totally sick Replay Lounge. We got to meet an old, rad weirdo with complimentary joints* (*marijuana cigarettes) and we drank lots of tequila. We even got to kick it with and play with a side project of our Marriage Records labelmates, Drakkar Sauna, and longtime label ally Tim Harte. We also got to stay last night in Kansas City, MO where our old Portland homie Matt Huff lives in a retardedly awesome warehouse loft. KC is only 40 minutes from Lawrence, and on the way there a very drunk Brian walked into a very unlocked (but very not open) Burger King to use the bathroom. The 3 AM night crew had no idea.

Now we're driving to St. Paul, MN where another fun show awaits.

Ok. Talk to you soon, love you too.



Safely, the Fang boys ride stop "24 Hour" Mike's tow rig on the Colorado/Kansas border.

So this is what Kansas looks like:

On the way to east Kansas, controlled burns scattered the horizon. Burner moments.

The saddest trade off.

The changing of chariot.

Another shot of Fangtime, in the parking lot of the Motel 6 in Hays, Kansas.

Chris thinks it's over.

Brian and Chris lounge in the new ride, we'll call it Fangtime for now.

In Missouri you can find this mood-mellowing beverage, but we're splitting one cuz it's kind of crazy tasting. Like flat creme soda: