Travelin' McCourys

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The Bluegrass Ball featuring The Travelin’ McCourys, Drew Emmitt and Andy Thorn of Leftover Salmon stomped though Chicago to a rousing house of hardcore bluegrass fans took over dancing in the aisles. The stage as a whos-who of monster bluegrass instrumentalists. This ensemble was definitely having a great time playing together.

Acclaimed band, The Travelin’ McCourys have started a new chapter in their book with the announcement that their guitar chair will be permanently filled by long-time friend and fan favorite, Cody Kilby. 

Today’s Rhythms on the Rio opened up with heavy cloud cover, promising rain. That’s not a good sign with an outdoor festival, but these Coloradoans are a hardy lot and will dance to music no matter the condition. For Blake Himert and his sound crew, though, it’s a lot of extra tarping and strategic towel placement, which they already did a bit Friday night. Luckily, what rain we did have was light that came mid-afternoon.

Chances are if you’ve been to a bluegrass festival the memories most prevalent are not so much that of the “scheduled” performers but more of the impromptu jams and unscheduled collaborations.  It’s with that spirit that the McCoury family decided to embark on a traveling bluegrass festival called The Bluegrass Ball.  In the past 3 years, The Bluegrass Ball has traveled across the country picking up multiple pickers and fans along the way. 

With winter weather only beginning to set in, fans can still keep their spirits bright with the announcement of the 9th annual Hoopla in the Hills Art & Music Festival Campout, held March 26-29 at Frontier Ranch Music Center – only 20 minutes outside of Columbus. 

Even if Keller Williams wasn't the one-man extravaganza in today’s music industry, his stage presence would still be undeniably compelling. But to ring in the New Year, K-Dubz wasn't alone; the Travelin’ McCourys joined him in funkin’ up the stage with their jovial blue grass jive and sublime jam solos.

The pop-up and its small footprint we would call home for the next 4 nights was ready. The sun had long since set and the kids were happily snuggled under doubled over blankets in the 1975 Apache Mesa. The evening’s cold temperatures were more than the few packed layers of cotton could defend against, so Laura and I were doing our best to think warm thoughts and be thankful for the reprieve from last year’s unbearable heat as we sat outside in the still and dewy night.  Her vapor filled exhalation was caught in the beam from her headlamp, over top of the festival’s program.

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