So the saga continues. It's a bit of a drive from Winnipeg to Calgary, where we need to pick up our road manager Jeff (AKA Jeproc AKA Sun Tzu AKA Jeph aka this guy has a gang of aliases for somebody who doesn't rap). An essential of this kind of travel is good music. When you get a car full of dudes with such surprisingly varied tastes it's guaranteed to be an eclectic soundtrack. Of course we give some classic hip hop the heavy rinse, but everything from Level 42's greatest to Aloe Blacc gets some play.

Fernie. It's a small ski town in The Rockies, just on the B.C. side of the Alberta border. It differs from Banff or Whistler in that the majority of people who come here to hit the slopes are really serious. The place has character, and looks like it hasn't changed in years.

So we posse up and move our luggage into The Royal. Since it's a little early for skiing, the hotel is mostly deserted, and we get most of the second floor. I'll skip the details, but it was a very late night and Fernians like to party. It was a rough, rough morning folks.

The show pops off nicely. There isn't really a stage to speak of, so the crowd is right there the whole time. The heads at the front are amped, and they're a matter from inches from us the whole time. The royal is a blast, shouts to our boy Kyle and the staff for making it a memorable night. This needs to be a stop on the next tour. Me and Jeff, being the early risers, pack the car and wake the dead. Calgary is next, and Calgary is full of surprises.