Around 11 AM Friday, as we strolled back to the bus from a leisurely brunch in Vail, we wondered what to do with the entire day that stretched before us like sea lions sprawled on the planks of Pier 39. Breckenridge, after all, was only a 45 minute drive away, and sound check wasn't until 8 PM!

Luckily, when we turned the key in the bus' ignition, nothing happened- meaning the dreaded group decision-making process would go unused for another day (whew!). A quick check around back revealed a smoking starter pump, a borrowed yellow pages from the hotel lobby revealed a thousand dollar plus price tag on a new starter, which would have to be imported, plus mechanic, all the way from Denver, today, or maybe tomorrow, or well, sometime.

This is around when we struck up a conversation with two welding contractors from Oklahoma who were hanging out on the parking lot and had wandered over to take a look. "Yep, that's a Detroit Diesel, that's your starter right there, gonna need a new one, I used to drive these things for 18 years" said Merlin in a soft-spoken twang. This is also around when we remembered that David was in Denver, and could maybe drive a new starter up, saving us roughly the price of three normal gigs and possibly meaning we could make it to Breckenridge on time, and this is exactly around when Ezra wandered over to Merlin and his buddy Victor's pickup and struck up another conversation that began something like, "So...you said you used to work on these kind of engines before?"

Two hours later, when Merlin, Victor, and Mully finally yank the old starter out of the bus, we call David in Denver with the part number, and we settle down in the parking lot to wait. Merlin tells us about building the new condos springing up around Vail, and his four days off for Labor Day, and 700 miles home to Oklahoma, and the high price of gas that meant he aimed to hole up in his hotel room for the weekend watching whatever he brought back from Blockbuster. Victor, like Merlin from Oklahoma but by way of Mexico, tells Ezra all about accepting Jesus Christ. He also shows us how to drain the case of Icehouse that is the only payment either Merlin (who doesn't even drink) or Victor will accept for what is turning into a full day's labor. After a while we decide it's getting too late to stay here, fix the starter, and make the gig on time, and Merlin- hereafter known as The Nicest Man in the World- drives Jason and all our gear to Breckenridge, where he accepts only a six-inch sub from Subway for all his trouble. The rest of us catch a ride with Josh, who we met the night before at the gig and who had seen our bus and pulled over in his Volkswagon bus to hang out just around when we were trying to figure out how to get the rest of us over the pass to Breckenridge.

This is Victor. We didn't get a picture of The Nicest Man in the World, and we're pissed about it.

Mully stays behind to drive the bus once it's fixed and to help The Nicest Man in the World with the starter- Victor at this point being a full case of Icehouse in and about as useful as a wetsuit in the Sahara. Josh rendevous with David and the new starter in Breckenridge, then drives it back to Vail, where Mully and The Nicest man in the World spawl beneath the bus with flashlights and tool cases until the starter is in and Mully takes off to meet us (the wrong way on I-70 for a while, but hey, at least we're in motion...).