Music in the mountains

I was camping this weekend outside Buena Vista, CO. In the early morning just as the sun came up, I took my guitar, climbed a rock that overlooked the valley and with the snowcapped peaks in the background began to play.

Over the next hour, I remembered the pure joy of playing music. Without thinking about form or context, tunes just started coming. If a theme emerged I went with it, if I got a new inspiration I went with it. To me it all sounded great and it’s a shame that only the trees and a few coyotes got to enjoy my early morning symphony. I didn’t worry about writing it down, song structure, or even remembering it what I was playing. It was more about being able to express myself with music. It takes times like these to reconnect myself to the music.

I’m also glad I have a decent quality camping guitar. I’ve carried a guitar with me in the wilderness for over 20 years. Instead of getting a “backpacker guitar” that is lighter and smaller, I’ve always carried a guitar with a full sound. Just hearing clear notes ring through the valley makes the extra hastle well worth it.