The Faux Shaux

Since I decided to take a road trip to Nashville, I’ve been hearing about Asheville.  When I realized it was also the home of the Moog headquarters, it became a new highlight on my itinerary.  My five hour drive stretched closer to seven, after taking the time to blog about all of the hiking at a Starbucks.

I pulled into town at 5:15pm, headed directly to the Moog shop that’d only be open for the rest of the hour.  I’ll admit that I went straight for the guitar pedal demo area, even though it’s Moog’s modular synths that put him on the map for most.  I played a red tele’ through a chain of Moog pedals, into an Orange amp.  The second pedal from the left was a really unique distortion pedal.  All of their pedals have control voltage inputs, meaning that you can plug-in an expression pedal to control one of the effect’s settings with your foot (think wahwah pedal).  On the distortion pedal, you can control the filter frequency, making sounds somewhere between a wah and a fuzz box.  And no, it sounds nothing like a distortion pedal through a wah.

Moog guitar pedal setup

Not before long, I was geeking out with the manager Rob on all the great toys in the shop.  I mentioned the Littlebits Synth Kit that I worked on last year.  He said the he and especially the engineers at the shop were huge fans.  I asked Ron to stand by his favorite instrument in the shop.  He chose the limited edition Voyager (only 100 made).

Rob from the Moog shop with Voyager

I opted to pose with the theremin (think of that sound in the Beach Boys’ Good Vibrations).  When Robert Moog was a student, he sold theremins in kit form.  I guess I was acknowledging his origins (and taking the opportunity to throw a raised eyebrow).  I bought myself some geeky souvenirs including a travel mug and a series of ADSR coasters (sorry no money for a synth).  Rob also hooked me up with a sweet hexagonal moog calendar when I asked him the price.  Thanks dude!

Posing with a Moog theremin

Still sore from the 10 hour hike the day before, I asked Rob for a suggestion on yoga spot in the area.  He mentioned the Asheville Community Yoga Center.  I wish every long drive on this trip ended with a yoga session.

Asheville Community Yoga

Once class was over I had to decide which of all the great dinner recommendations I would seek out.  I was originally planning on going to Rosetta’s, the cornerstone of vegetarian in the town.  I heard they had a homemade-kombucha bar, which sounded pretty fantastic.  It was already after 8pm, so I decided to consolidate my trip by going to the Brewery that the park ranger had recommended (he knew one of the brewmasters).

I snagged a seat at the bar, and after a glance of the menus, knew I’d made the right decision.  With some guidance from Sam the bartender, I ordered the double IPA and a fried-chicken with kimchi sando.  Sam went by ‘Slam’ at the bar.  There was a Sam Dunkin hired at the same time, so naturally they make the two parts of ‘Slam Dunkin’.

Sam at Wicked Weed

The second Ron I met in Asheville was a fellow solo roadtripper.  He had just come from Rosetta’s and was on the IPA wagon with me.  Between Slam and Ron, I felt like I was at dinner with friends.  Sam gave us tastings of her favorite beers, including their sours.  Sour beer is an odd thing to me, but it’s hard to turn down free beer.  Thanks again for the free round!

After dinner, I still had to find a place to sleep.  The plan was to camp and couch surf, so I couldn’t chicken out and get a hotel room just because it’d been raining and it was close to midnight.  The guys at the Moog shop insisted I could camp off any trail on the Blue Ridge Parkway, so I headed in that direction.  It was a curvy, 40 mph local highway, much like Skyline.  I noticed cars parked on big grassy shoulders, presumably campers in the woods behind.

I pulled onto the first large shoulder I could find, my small coupe awkwardly bobbling over the uneven ground.  I slung on my headlamp and entered the forest looking for a suitable campsite and to check for bear.  I big ol’ possum clunked around, totally un-phased by my bright headlamp.  The slope of the forest, way too sleep for tent camping meant I’d either sling up the hammock in the rain or camp on the actual shoulder.  I was headed for Nashville at dawn, so I didn’t have time to be picky about matters, so I popped a tent on the forest-side of my car and napped for about four hours.  Two to three cars and hour would drive by and I would laugh to myself as I imagined what their reaction would be to such a site.