Post Adventures Blues is a real thing. I woke up Saturday morning this past weekend with an intense urge to get out of town. My options: Big Sur, for the Mollusk Jamboree, or Pioneertown, for the Woodsist Festival.

A little info on both - 

Mollusk Jamboree 2013

Mollusk is a surf shop in Venice (there's also one up in San Francisco) owned by John McCrambridge, and guys like Farmer Dave Scher and the Marshall brothers (Brothers Marshall) and Darren Rademaker and a bunch of others are all involved. It's basically a staple of the LA surf culture. This year, Mollusk teemed up with Britt Govea of Folk Yeah! to set up a festival, the Mollusk Jamboree. Showcasing bands mainly from Los Angeles like The Tyde, Allah-Las, Tomorrows Tulips, and Beachwood Sparks, the festival was promoted as "2 days of music, camping, and fun at Fernwood, Big Sur." And, of course, surfing. Festivals in Big Sur are basically a must-see for anyone who can get their ass there. Let's face it - seeing music live under a canopy of redwood trees with the Pacific Ocean fog frizzing out your hair is a guaranteed vibe stimulator.

Check out the poster. 

Woodsist Festival 2013

Also run by Britt of Folk Yeah!, this year, Woodsist was split up in two weekends - the first in Big Sur, and the second in the desert, specifically Pioneertown, a first ever for the festival named after its green location. Pioneertown, an old western ghost town a few miles away from Joshua Tree National Park in Yucca Valley, is one of my favorite places in the world, and they specialize in music festivals. Pappy and Harriet's, the bar/restaurant mainly frequented by the local bike gangs and other unseemlies, acts as host for all of them, and Woodsist wasn't any different. With their outdoor stage perfect for loud electrifying bands and the indoor stage for a more intimate feel, the location is perfect for a night of live music under the bright stars of the California desert. Not to mention there's an old train just five miles away from Pappys that looks like a mirage beneath the beating afternoon sun.

Big Sur, although a more serene all-encompassing adventure, was too far for a spontaneous last minute trip, so I decided to spend my Saturday night in the desert. 

It takes about an hour and a half to drive out to Joshua Tree from Los Angeles, just 130 miles, give or take. I spent the afternoon on Saturday running errands and by 7pm, after gorging on some street tacos, was ready to hit the road. I had three spliffs for the car ride. No suitcase. Sleeping bag, pad, and tent in the trunk. No cars on the road. I put the cruise control on and sped into the darkness. 

Woodsist started at 1pm that day, so I missed almost all of the one day festival. I got to Pappys just in time to see the Babies and White Fence, who both blew me away. I smoked too many cigarettes, drank too much whiskey, and ended up sleeping in a tent near the horse corrals. The next morning, I woke up at 9am with plenty of time to play around the train, get yelled at by the local "guard" for "trespassing on private property" and snap some pictures before heading back to reality. It was the perfect trip. 

The end.