This must be the place: ‘You could’ve been anyone, you’ve come along like a setting sun’

A&E Columns

This must be the place: ‘You could’ve been anyone, you’ve come along like a setting sun’

The Burger Bar in Bristol, Virginia. Garret K. Woodward photo

Hello from Room 304 at the Delta Hotel in Bristol, Virginia. Sitting here at the desk, I can hear the hustle and bustle of nearby Interstate 81. Right outside my window, the howling of tractor-trailers zooming by into the unknown night, either heading south over border into Tennessee or the depths of the Shenandoah Valley going north.

The sounds of the highway lull me into a peaceful sleep, truth be told. Every single time. Especially from all those years catching a quick wink of sleep in rest areas and truck stops from coast-to-coast over the decades of wandering and pondering this country, this life. And I cherish those memories on the open road, which continue to serve as fuel for the fire on my intent each time I bolt for the horizon.

This morning, I woke up in Chattanooga at the annual International Bluegrass Music Association gathering after several days of melodic chaos and incredible interactions. I’m falling asleep tonight in Bristol, here for the Rhythm & Roots Reunion. After seeing so many great sets this evening, including my brothers from another, Futurebirds, it dawns on me that this wild-n-out summer is now coming to a close.

Time flies by when you’re having fun, eh? Assignments from North Carolina to Montana and back again from June through September. Interviews with countless musical artists that I deeply admire all along the way: Alison Krauss, Peter Rowan, Wynonna Judd, Billy Strings, Red Clay Strays, Kelsey Waldon, The Wood Brothers, Goose, Sierra Hull, Dawes, Houndmouth, Mike Campbell and so forth.

The work never stops. And I remain grateful for that. This is all I’ve ever wanted to do with my life, happily. I’m living my dream in real time. And, for me, it’s always been about those random moments while on the road that justify why I do what I do. Like tonight, sitting at the hotel bar a few minutes ago, where rising country star Shane Smith walked in following his headlining set here at Bristol. I’ve interviewed him a few times over the years, including earlier this summer, backstage at the Under the Big Sky festival in Whitefish, Montana.

The hotel bar and lobby was empty and silent. And there Shane and I were, just chatting about the road, comparing notes about the industry, simply catching up. And I don’t take any of those encounters for granted. They are the mementos of my everyday existence which I hold close to my heart and soul, each placed carefully on the shelves of my memory — the spiritual souvenirs of a life in continual motion.

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For me, I kicked off this summer at the Telluride Bluegrass Festival in Colorado in mid-June and ended it here today at the Bristol Rhythm & Roots Reunion on the Tennessee/Virginia line. In between all that? Under the Big Sky, RockyGrass, Park City Song Summit, Earl Scruggs Fest, Mountain Song, IBMAs, etc. Also, too many other concerts and sit-down interviews to even count, let alone remember.

In truth, I’ve only been actually home a total of two weeks or so since Telluride, mostly those Tuesdays when it’s “all hands on deck” putting together this newspaper each week and kicking it out the door to the printer. I spent most of the last three months on the road, a majority of it out West. The gratitude to do so remains.

Coming into the summer, I wanted to again wander around the Rocky Mountains. And I did. I put a lot of the last year behind me, in the rearview mirror, physically and emotionally. It was a rough fall and winter coming into 2025. In all reality, the roughest year of my adult life, thus far. Cleared my head. Found balance. A good chuck of those unforgiving highway miles were spent just lost in thought, usually during one of those seemingly endless Rocky Mountain sunsets.

And I met new, lifelong friends. Big bear hugs to my dear old ones all along the way: Montana, South Dakota, Colorado, Wyoming and beyond. Trips to Nashville and jaunts all over the Southeast, too. What a whirlwind. What a melodic blur. “And the road goes on forever,” as they say. I’m a die-hard road dog. It’s in my blood. And it’s just who I am at my absolute core. And I’m an eternally curious human being for all of what life has to offer. Keep seeking out wisdom and experiences.

To note, as I was walking down Main Street in Bristol earlier this afternoon, amid the circus of humanity and music at the festival, this lady I’ve never met stopped me in the middle of the beautiful chaos. She goes, “Are you Garret?” Yes, I am. “Well, I follow you on social media. I read all your stuff and your adventures this summer. I just want to say I love your outlook on music, people, and life.” It put the biggest grin of appreciation on my face. It really did.

Onward to fall. To that, this past week has been extremely heavy for all of us who call Asheville and greater Western North Carolina home: the one-year anniversary of Hurricane Helene. So, please keep us in your thoughts and hearts. It’s hard to believe it has been a full year since the utter destruction of our mountains overtook our former sense of reality and flung all of us into the abyss — days, weeks and months of searching for clean water and food, searching for answers to the madness.

And I’ve been diving into deep reflection on “all that,” all while the recovery continues. But, my head is held high. As I’ve stated many-a-time before, the biggest takeaway from Helene, for me at least, was seeing humanity come together. Finding solutions to enormous problems. Helping out family, friends and strangers alike. Selflessly offering yourself into whatever any situation required from you.

That genuine unity and sincere love amongst you and me (and you, too) in the midst of the darkest of times experienced during Helene is the prism I peer through as I try and make sense of this current juncture of history — the good, the bad, the ugly. It’s all so wondrous and horrific at the same time, isn’t it? I focus on the good in people and aim to mitigate the bad as much as a I can. Don’t forget, kindness breeds kindness (as does hate). I strive for peace in our modern world.

Life is beautiful, grasp for it, y’all.

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