Ashby Frank
Mandolinist, Singer, Songwriter

Well it’s been a while since I started my list of “Favorite Things”, so it’s time for another entry.

I’ve been sitting here finishing up some of my tax prep work (Oh the many joys of being a self employed musician.) and I was looking over the days I was on the road last year, and the second weekend in August really stuck out. For the second year in a row, I missed the Galax Old Fiddler’s Convention. What a bummer………………..
As you probably know by now, I grew up in central North Carolina. Before I got into this “music” stuff that I seem to still be “in” I spent quite a few of my childhood summer days with my family and extended family at my Grandparent’s cabin on Crooked Creek near Galax, Virginia and about a two hour drive from my hometown of Tyro, NC.

My sister and I would spend our days riding bikes, swimming, rafting, playing cards, and skipping rocks. It was a great place to visit, and I was very fortunate to be able to spend so much time on those vacation days with my Sister and Grandparents, as well quite a few Great Aunts and Uncles… some that aren’t around any more.

I don’t remember whose idea it was to go down to the Fiddler’s Convention one night, but that’s been quite a few years ago. I think it was before I even played an instrument. I remember that my Mom and her first cousin Scotty and his wife Cathy, along with a few other relatives all went down to the park one night and took me with them. Like I said, I was pretty young then so I don’t remember exactly what I thought of it, but by the time I came back a few years later with my Mandolin, I know I was hooked.

Before you really understand what the big deal about a Fiddle Contest in the Mountains of Southwest Virginia is, I need to paint a picture in your head to dispel any preconceived notions you may have.

First: imagine a Sunday morning, and a few thousand people, mostly musicians of some sort, with their $100,000+ motor homes, travel trailers, pull-behind campers (some antique and surprisingly road worthy), pop-up campers, tents, and station wagons. They’re all lined up in the streets and parking lots of a sleepy, small town in the Blue Ridge Mountains and they’ve been lining up for days to get their spot in line to get into Felts Park for a huge family reunion and music festival.

Shortly after dawn, everyone fires up their vehicles and at the direction of the Galax Moose Lodge officials, everyone funnels in through one single lane gate to get their “first come, first serve” spot in the park. Many people are with groups of other campers, so it’s very important to get in early to get enough space.

For the next 6 days, the park (which is basically a baseball field, a football field, and a few tennis courts) turns into a small city populated by Bluegrass and Old Time music lovers, with established neighborhoods that have names, and campers crammed in every possible spot. The people are mostly but not exclusively old, middle aged, young, rednecks, hillbillies, hippies, retired, students, and professionals.

The family reunion part (jamming, eating, partying, conversing) is the reason that 99% of the campers are there. Most of them pay very little attention to the contest part of the week unless one of their friends is about to take the stage for their two and a half minutes of fame. That’s the part I miss so much. Seeing people I haven’t seen in awhile and don’t run into on the road that much is really good for me.

During the week you can’t help but make new friends, see some crazy sights, and hear some great music. I met and got to know many of my friends at Galax, and I have a lot of stories saved in my head from long nights in the park. I went for most of the whole week from the time I was 13 until a couple years ago when my touring schedule wouldn’t allow it. I won the mandolin contest a couple of times (it made the paper back home) and actually placed in the dulcimer contest a few times too. (That’s another story, for another time.)

After you’re there a couple days, you feel like you’re in another country, sometimes even another world. The only messages from the “outside” come in the form of someone’s radio playing the local AWESOME radio station 98.1 WBRF, and from random messages over the loud speakers in the park about contests that are starting, lost keys and found children. But there’s ways to get away from the park. Galax has some nice little restaurants and shops, and a big Wal-Mart for anything you need.

Now before you start thinking that this is some sort of utopia, I need to paint another picture for you.
It ALWAYS rains, and there’s always tons of mud for people to fall and get stuck in. There’s very few good bathrooms and showers, and the power supplies are so overloaded by all the campers, that it’s hard to find air conditioning when it’s hot. But it’s all ok. Until the weekend rowdy crowd gets there and causes a few MINOR problems, everyone gets along and finds their own crowd to hang out with and pick.

Even though I said that the contest isn’t the biggest reason everyone goes, it is a lot of fun and a pretty big deal as far as contests go. There’s hours of entertainment from musicians of all skill levels to be found on stage all week long, and they’ve added a youth contest recently. I can remember being pretty excited on Saturday night when the winners from the week were announced… then being let down that it was all over.

Anyway, if you have the time to go with an open mind, you really should check it out some time. You might hate it, or you might love it like I do. For more information and some great pictures, check out their website.

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Also, if you’re ever in the area when it’s not the second week in August, you should take some time to look around downtown Galax and the surrounding area. It’s beautiful there, and there’s a lot of things to see, hear, and do. Check out the town of Floyd and the Country Store there, the New River, the Blue Ridge Parkway, and the Crooked Road.

Looks like I’m going to be in North Dakota and Wyoming during that weekend this year, but maybe I can make it for the first of the week. Maybe I’ll get to see you there this year, or next.