People come to the desert for a lot of things, to lose themselves, to find themselves, and if you were a member of the Cosa Nostra in the 60s & 70s, to lose someone else. Whether or not you came to the desert due to an existential entanglement, one thing is for certain—there's a whole lotta dirt of the Mojave persuasion in Southern California. When you take that dirt, add a music festival, and a couple S4 Honcho into the mix, you’ve got yourself the ingredients for a one heck of a good time. Hello, it’s me – your friend Amanda Sundvor, and today I’m here today to tell ya about LiveWire at the Storyteller Overland Festival – Year 1.
Now, to be part of the first of anything feels pretty special, just ask ANYONE who was at Woodstock, or walked on the Moon. Everything after that is “Buzz” this and “Niel” that or “Can you believe Santana thought his guitar was a snake?” These stories become the legends we regale long after the players are gone. RIP Buzz. What’s that, you say? He’s still alive?! Well, I’ll be darned... he is. Regardless, being part of the first of something can be a powerful experience. LiveWire sent me marching orders to head to the Mojave Desert with Jean-Claude Damme Van (our LiveWire van) loaded up with two S4 Honcho Trail, and we were to head south on a 1,064mi journey to party with our friends at STO Fest. Roger that.
STO Fest is a three night and four days Storyteller owner’s rally in the high desert in SoCal on private land lovingly dubbed Lasertown. If you’ve never been to Lasertown, lemme tell you, it’s a kook’s delight. There are more mannequins and wacky art than you can shake a stick at, and you’d better believe me when I say - I can shake a stick. The main space is filled with muraled containers, random tiny structures, metal palm trees, movie prop cars, and so, so much more. There’s even a koi pond with 200+ fish ranging in sizes from 6” to 3’. When I heard the owner was on the premise, I immediately started looking for someone resembling Doc Brown a la Back to the Future, wacky hair and all. To my surprise, the owner was just a regular dude. Didn’t say anything insane and wasn’t wearing a tinfoil hat. Gotta say, I was both surprised and disappointed.
Along on this journey I was joined by Austin, TX’s very own - Malary Lee. She rips on the bike, is a cool dude, and was a key player for a successful desert excursion. She’s a much better rider in the dirt than I am, and I knew that. I totally knew that, even before we even took the Honcho Trail up into the hills, I knew that. I was REMINDED of that as soon as we started. Heavy rains had come through the Johnson Valley area a few days previous; trails were washed out, and it was loose dirt as far as you could ride. You ride… not me. I got stuck again and again. I was the squirrely one getting loose in the caboose, digging myself deeper into the sand at every corner while giggling feverishly along the way. Malary was a laser beam precision tool, and the pure antithesis of Atreyu’s horse in Neverending Story, she seemed to float above it. Float beyond it. See, kids? When you tune into the desert’s vibration, you can seemingly transcend gravity, just like our pal Mal here. Except don’t call her that. She HATES it.
As the days filled themselves with clinics and demos alike, the nights were meant for the music. The lineup was as follows: Ozomatli, The Western States, Blackberry Smoke, Jared James Nichols, The Struts, and one of my personal favorites, Black Sabbitch. It’s been a long time since I’ve alternated between throwing the windmill and lawnmower in the pit, but there I was letting loose with my fellow mosh enthusiasts to the tunes of Ozzy from my fellow Gen X babes. Magical.
The hits, though… the just kept a-comin’. There was a full day of demos, food, and music in the rear view mirror. What more could they possibly have in store? Enter – The Dusty Bunch. The DB is a band that consists of Storyteller team members with CEO Neil Grimme on bass, but I found all that out later. As I made my way from the stage and back off into the vast Mojave expanse, a black minivan appeared out of the desert and rolled in like a storm. Music seemingly wanting to explode from the inside out. As you get closer, your mind tries to sort out what you’re looking at. Am I being kidnapped? Excuse me, adultnapped? Quite the contrary, as the van approached, the doors flew open, and inside a Storyteller rig were The Dusty Bunch, a whole ass band, jamming their hearts to that Deep Purple song. You know the one –
Slooooow motion Walter, fire engine guy
What’s that? They’re saying Smoke on the Water? Dang, I was WAY off. Samsonite.
Storyteller Overland Fest year one was a blast! Three nights of music, Honcho action, and the desert was an incredibly amazing experience, and I got to come back from it with new friends in tow, and a story for you – the readers. You’re gonna wanna stay tuned for what else these cats have in store. I know I will. Until next time, gang.
Hearts & Minds,
Your friend – Amanda
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