I’d turned around two days before.

In Salt Lake City the weatherman was a god. When you live to ski, you become addicted to the forecast. And that’s all we had back then, the TV forecast. Which was imprecise and more of a guess than truth so when they said it might snow in northern Utah and southern Idaho I got in my car and set off for Sun Valley anyway.

What a mistake. About two hours later it started to blow and snow and I got that anxious feeling inside, I was gripping the steering wheel like a lifeline and I decided to turn around, I’d been in too much bad weather in my life, one year at Middlebury I was in two accidents in two days. I wasn’t driving, but it made a big impression upon me.

My roommates in Sandy were surprised to see me return. And I waited for forty eight hours thereafter to resume my journey. And although the forecast was still unclear, I went. And everything was fine until I crossed the Idaho border and started driving west and it started to snow and it turned into a blizzard and it was every man for himself out there in the middle of nowhere.

Nevada’s the desert, you’re psychologically prepared. But you think of Idaho as having trees and lakes and… But really, it’s endless highway with Indian reservations barely visible on the horizon, it’s incredibly creepy. And I’d say you don’t want to stop, but there’s nowhere to stop. I was past the point of no return.

Now this was before the days of four wheel drive. Sure, you could buy a Wagoneer or a Power Wagon, both Chrysler products, but they were few and far between. We relied on snow tires. Two of them. In the rear. And if you made one mistake…

You were in the ditch.

Accidents in Little Cottonwood Canyon, on the way back and forth to Snowbird, were de rigueur. Every car seemed to have a dent, some primer. You were slippin’ and a slidin’ in that snow.

But it was only a handful of miles from Salt Lake to the ski area and vice versa. I was still hundreds of miles from Sun Valley. And if I turned around now it wouldn’t be worth it. I was going to visit my parents, who were only there for a week. Actually, there were only three days left.

So I soldiered on. Driving fifty, sixty, because the sun was setting and otherwise I never would have made it.

And there was a cassette in the dash, Loggins & Messina’s "Mother Lode".

I know, I know, you’re tuning out.

But back before "Your Mama Don’t Dance", Loggins & Messina had issued a dynamite debut. Listen to "Same Old Wine". Hell, I’ll do a whole first album playlist in the future, "Sittin’ In" is a forgotten gem.

But the follow-up had the hit. It was too lighthearted, playing to the audience, the album made me wince. Except for "Angry Eyes"… A west coast "Whipping Post".

Bad analogy maybe…

Anyway, I took a risk, I bought the third, "Full Sail". It was kind of a return to form.

So I insisted my sister buy the fourth, "Mother Lode". There were no hits. But it’s the best.

I was staying with her in Brentwood before I went to Salt Lake. I told her the albums to buy. And then I transferred them to cassette for my future travels, for the drive to Salt Lake and other adventures thereafter.

And by this point, I knew ELO’s "Eldorado" by heart. Same story with Randy Newman’s "Good Old Boys". So maybe that’s why I was playing "Mother Lode" in the blizzard. I wanted to know it, learn it, experience it. I’d been disappointed at first. But now…

I couldn’t change tapes.

One false move and…

You see I kept the cassettes in the passenger seat, in cardboard Maxell boxes. And I had a whole technique, picking them up, perusing the titles while I soldiered on down the highway. Only at this point, I was afraid to take my eyes off the highway. So I kept on playing "Mother Lode", over and over and over again.

It was in the Blaupunkt. For hours. The driving conditions were just that bad. My headlights were on. There were at best two ruts in the road. The funny thing about driving in snow is if you go too slow, you lose traction. Go too fast, and you skid off the highway. Actually, once I did a 360. Got out on the middle of the Interstate, convinced myself I hadn’t hit anything, got back in my car and continued on. But that was two years later. And that storm was completely unexpected. But yes, I did walk around my car on the highway, sounds ridiculous, but I was the only one out there!

So I got to know "Mother Lode", it’s in my DNA. I think I can convince you to love it too.

"Growin’"

This is the opening cut. Not as cheesy as some of the stuff Kenny Loggins did when the band broke up and he went solo, but knowing what we know now, it’s hard to get excited about this album opener. But then…

"Be Free"

That acoustic opening. It brings me back to the highway.

And the change is magical…

I want to get away and live my life
In the rivers and trees
I want to spend the days making rhyme and be free
And be free
And be free

That’s what we were doing. Not only me, but my entire generation, we’d forsaken the city for the country, we were going back to the land. This cut is not made for everybody, just you. Hang in there, there are so many changes, "Be Free" endears itself to you, without banging itself over your head.

"Changes"

This is my favorite. Another Jimmy Messina cut. It’s about the life of a musician, being on the road, trying to make it. And once you do…

You finally save enough
And you’re thinkin’ that you’re gonna advance
Turn around, there’s Uncle Sam
He’s got his hand down in your pants

There’s got to be a backstory here. Unexpected taxes, maybe Messina’s a closet right winger, but it’s the best part of the track.

"Move On"

This is the long dreamy, drifty number. Fire up a joint and let your mind go free.

"Get A Hold"

This is Kenny at his best. Energized without being saccharine.

"Keep Me In Mind"

So intimate as to creep you out. It was like I was driving getting  a telephone call from God.

"Fever Dream"

This has got that island feel, which Loggins & Messina did so well before Jimmy Buffett.

"Mother Lode" is an album, an experience. It’s sans gloss. It’s not the girl with fake boobs made up by Rachel Zoe, it’s that real woman, who you ignore at first but get into conversation with and can’t let go.

Used to be the album was enough. You didn’t need hits to sustain a career.

Then again, it wasn’t so long thereafter that Loggins & Messina broke up. They did a covers album, searching for a hit, and one more studio album and they were done.

Today everybody’s so into image, everybody’s got such narrow tastes, but back then you could like Zeppelin AND Loggins & Messina. You were open to everything, we were all in it together.

I don’t think this music is going to be remembered, there’s not going to be a Loggins & Messina renaissance, but "Mother Lode" holds up. Play it on a long, dreary drive, you’ll see your whole life unfold in front of you.

P.S. By time I got to Twin Falls the storm stopped. The highway was clear all the way to Sun Valley. Where I lay on the floor reading about Joe Walsh’s "So What", but that’s another playlist…

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