June 5 (and into June 6) – I think Kirsti was dreading the gig in Amarillo as we drove the 6.5 hours from that magical night in Dallas, in part because of the volume of alcohol the night before and because we didn’t sleep nearly enough.

“I remember being like f*#@ me,” Kirsti said, recalling that morning four years later. “I was not thrilled to be getting in that car.”

But it was on this drive, on my 52^nd birthday, that I really began understanding the vastness of this country we live in. You can see the curve of the earth plain as day.

I’d never driven west like that and was just amazed how the treeless flatness gave way to that distant curve. I also marveled at the storm clouds I was seeing, though admittedly they intimidated me because I’ve never seen a tornado and didn’t need to that day.

But yeah, Kirsti wasn’t feeling amazing and SHE wasn’t supposed to start playing until 10 p.m., which was bumming her out all day. She was tired, her stomach didn’t feel great, we were in the car – again – and she was stressed because based on pictures and posts about the place, it looked a little like a biker bar.

But things looked up when we got to our latest Airbnb, this uniquely western decorated upstairs apartment with separate bedrooms, cranking air conditioning and welcoming couches.

The owners in the neighboring home had a gate made out of bicycle-rims and a super cool VW door as a fence gate.

We chilled out for a while once we got there, and then I ordered a pizza and salad for dinner. Despite a downpour that soaked me on the dash from the illegal parking spot to the restaurant with lightning crackling in the sky, the mission was successful. We filled our bellies and got ready to head to Leftwoods.

She could now add nerves and anxiety to her tired-still-not-feeling-great self.

When we walked in, we were the ones clearly out of place. There was a lot of long hair, a lot of tattoos and leather, and one really loud obnoxious drunk guy. She introduced herself to the bartender and quickly learned that she’d probably be going on stage more like 11 than 10 – and that news was dreadful to her. She silently sipped a beer she didn’t really want, and realized she had another hour or so to wait.

I think it was a low point for her, a moment on the trip that she was doubting her decision to book gigs.

But we chatted with the unique duo she was opening for, a guy named Jonny “Swagger” Natale and his partner Jessica Mauz. They called themselves Tail Light Rebellion and we would later see them fill up the place with a whole lot of sound from his aggressively played acoustic guitar, foot-powered drum made from a suitcase and her lively accordion.

The music sounded like traditional Irish music meets the Sex Pistols. His vocals were as aggressive as his guitar pounding.

But aside from small talk with them, we basically just sipped beer and waited, sleepily and nervously, as the loudmouth drunk continued his tirade despite pleas from his buddy to mellow out.

As it got closer to the time for her to play, however, the place started filling up with a younger crowd. In addition to perhaps catering to the rougher element, it also apparently is a place where restaurant and service workers go to blow off steam and listen to live music after work.

I’m not sure how many soft-singing 22-year-old women have played Leftwoods, but when 11 rolled around, it was time for her to.

 As the regulars slugged away at the bar and the younger crowd hovered by the pool tables, Kirsti played on. The acoustics were great and despite the long day after a long night, I think her adrenaline had kicked in and at times the place got really quiet to listen to her.

I love when that happens.

Her version of Jewel’s “Who will save your Soul” generated some approving screams from some women at the bar and led one to approach and tip her.

She mixed in a bunch of originals too, including her upbeat bluesy “Black Mood,” which was a hit. A ponytailed guy next to me raved about her version of Clapton’s “Layla” too.

But the moment Kirsti will always remember, was when a group of her-aged guys sat down in front of the stage to listen more attentively. When she was done, they urged her to play another “and play another original,” one said.

I’m pretty sure in that moment, the decision to play Leftwoods was validated. Not only did they like her sound, they wanted an original, and she beamed when talking about it later.

So despite the nerves, the nausea and the need for sleep, her gig at Leftwoods left her smiling, which made me smile and beam with pride also.

Jonny “Swagger” almost immediately followed Kirsti on social media and emailed quite frequently for a while after the gig but has since stopped. Last I checked, they were playing gigs in Virginia, I’m sure very aggressively! They definitely added to the Amarillo story, and I found myself humming George Strait’s “Amarillo By Morning” all the way to Albuquerque the next day.