Johnny Resigns the Bike - will finish tour by bus, thumb and train

Ok, folks - here it is: I have been in a slump since Alberta. I've been constantly feeling low. I feel like a chocolate chip cookie with not enough chips, where the chips are my joys and the batter my sorrow. This tour has taken its toll on me. Well, it's not just this tour - it's the last three years of touring. When I went to Hawaii the winter before last, things seemed to change. My luck shifted. And while good things have happened since then, my good times have been short-lived, and my chances at love haven't panned-out. I've been lonely and craving stability where there has been none. For those of you who imagine being a musician is living a dream, living the high-life, living it up - please don't use your imagination like that. Don't perpetuate a myth that, frankly, doesn't exist even for some of the richest, most pampered musicians. We do what we love, yes, but very few of us can be comfortable while doing it. On this tour we have slept in ditches, been hailed on, run off the road, played to the empty room and played to the loud and obnoxious. There is no romance in any of this. It is hard, and while it can be tolerated, while odd times are comfortable and amazing, it is extremely difficult to maintain for years on end. We all need a place to come home to, a refuge, shelter from the wind. As Kevin Head wrote in one of his songs: "Everyone needs a backyard to return to / Everyone needs a place to call home / We all need some friends that are more than friendly / 'Cause this old life is hell when you're on your own"

I am at my breaking point. For this reason, and for the reason that, on the rides to Rachel Hauraney's and to Chelsea this weekend, my fingers went back to square one as far as numbness and pain is concerned, I have decided to finish this tour in the most comfortable fashion I can. This means I will be taking the train or the bus instead of riding a bicycle. I realize this is probably a disappointment to many who expected to see Derek and I finish the tour cycling together. I can only ask you to put yourself in my shoes, and know that I am disappointed and frustrated myself in the way this tour has developed. That said, Derek and I were trying to do something crazy: a four-month music tour (which is nuts), by bicycle (which is nuts), with someone we barely knew before we left (which is nuts). Three nuts makes crazy, if you ask me.

Rest assured that for the next three weeks I will give the best shows I can, pouring my heart into my music, and that I am not off the bike permanently. After the tour is done, I will commute on it and ride it everywhere that riding is a viable option. I hope you are doing the same, will do the same, for it is a service to this planet and the life that is on it. Do as much as you can.

If I have learned anything from this, and other, tours, it is just that: DO AS MUCH AS YOU CAN.

You need not be a zealot. You need not be a martyr. You need not be an evangalist.

YOU NEED ONLY MAKE YOUR BEST EFFORT UNDER YOUR CIRCUMSTANCES.

Catch yourself in the middle of making excuses, and let them fade off into the distance while you take positive action.

Thank you for your support!
Johnny Eden

Jul 21 - Blind River, ON - 3rd Sand Beach

here we go whimpering one whimp more into depression: i can't seem to lift myself from it. i have come to wonder if it is the music that brings me joy, or just the good times with friends that sometimes come with it. or perhaps i am the stereotypical artist - only happy when feeling appreciated, or in the middle of creation. here i am on the beach again, yet tonight's show was cancelled. why can't i get past that? why can't i absorb all the joys of this moment? it's like something has gone off in me, but it can't be thrown out - it needs to be composted.

###

morning on the beach, dew inside my tent, swim in the Huron - I am up again. last night saw stars shining, shooting across the sky, the moon bright and strong reflected. listened to some blues on the cbc, and a little bit of "twang" from D Trevlon - good to hear him on there, to hear an up-and-comer get some attention.

no rush to get to sudbury now. the show is days away yet. i have no idea where i am going to sleep when i get there - ha ha ha!

June 24-28 - Moose Jaw, SK to Winnipeg, MB

I woke up to thunder at 5am in Moose Jaw, SK, got out of the tent and saw dark clouds to the horizon. Not wanting to pack-up in the rain, I started packing my stuff away. Derek got up and started to do the same. The storm passed with barely a drop of rain. I started putting my tent back up. I wanted more sleep, and sleep I got. I woke at 8am, ate breakfast with one of our hosts, Fred, and was on the road by 9am, riding to Regina against the wind. By the end of the weekend in Regina, I just felt depressed. I'd lost my mojo for cycling, playing - I was on the verge of quitting. Sunday night after our show at The Club, I felt exhausted and sick. The next morning I decided it was best for my mental health to be alone. It was a good thing, too, because the next few days were my hardest mentally, by far, on this entire trip.

The first day was spent cyling into the rain and wind, going slow as molasses, and my trailer got a flat when the rain was at its worst. I felt so tired and sick at one point that I actually took a nap on the side of the highway, while the rain fell on my face. It was... a rough day. I only made it 90km - 30 less than I needed to keep pace for Brandon. I was worried I wasn't going to make it, that I might have to hitch-hike my way there, but thankfully the wind had changed direction by morning and was at my back. Taking advantage of the good wind fortune, I cycled 225km to Oak Lake, MB, where my friend Tannis Slimmon grew up. I asked some folks who were gardening there if they knew her, and if they knew anyone who might be willing to have me camp in their yard, and Pete and Marion Masson volunteered their yard to me. I ate heavy there (more pork liver pate wraps) and slept well, but woke up to a freezing cold north-east wind. And guess what direction I was heading to Brandon? That's right - North-East. So, of the 55kms I had to cycle to get to Brandon, I spent about 45km of it fighting against the bitter-cold wind, wearing my winter gloves, sweater and jacket. The three days of cycling were physically exhausting, and when I got to Brandon my tiredness showed. Susan, who owns Scarlatti's, kindly warmed me up with a pumpkin-pie flavoured caffeinated beverage. Yum! I played the show well (very much exciting Susan, who said my tunes "turned her on" - ha ha), made decent money, sold some discs, and - hallelujah! - was offered a ride to Winnipeg by a nice kiwi man named Cameron. The debate of "cycle-trip pureness VS car-pool chance for some extra rest" did not last long, as I have been experiencing knee-pain again, as well as a new development - numbness in two fingers on my left hand. So off we went, chatting the whole way to Winnipeg, arriving just before 1am at my friend Chris' place. I stayed up late e-mailing Asta, and slept super-well.

Today I have been able to relax, do laundry, and get bits of business done. It has been good, and I am once again feeling happy about most things on this tour.