| Continental Divide Iceland |
December ten years ago the band stood on the path between the European Continent and North America. I know because there was a sign that indicated as much--This is the Continental Divide. The days were short maybe just a few hours of light and we had crept down the side of an icy cliff to get there. I was perplexed by the physics of it all and why we didn't slide to our deaths. Our hosts showed incredible hospitality and I trusted them to keep us alive. We played two shows in Reykjavik, but when not playing we were escorted around town and into the volcanic countryside for sightseeing. On the way in from the airport we went straight to the Blue Lagoon and experienced the mineral rich hot spring water and floated on our backs drifting as close to where the streams emerged from the earth as possible without getting scalded. Steam hovered above the surface. We scooped handfuls of mud from the bottom and covered our faces before showering and driving into the city to our hotel. We played, ate, and drank at a bar owned by Damon Albarn. When we departed Reykjavik after a few days of dusk and darkness it seemed like there was a conspiracy to keep us there. We had a plan to visit the Blue Lagoon again on the way to the airport, but the only road from the city to the airport was shut down by the police and our leisurely departure turned into a mad circuitous dash through tundra, volcanic rock, and sheep. I turned out that the rush was for naught as our flight out was severely delayed because of weather back in the States. Hours later we departed but were forced to land in Minneapolis because Chicago was hit by a blizzard. The airline put us up at a hotel decked out with taxidermied wildlife within sight of the Mall of America. The next day the land with fire but no ice was now in the past as we flew into Chicago --frosted and white as far as the eye could see.
