And the sun sinks over Maldon...

Another thigh-slappingly brilliant Maldon Folk Festival has come and gone. A great, fun time was had by all and we all return with trunks of memories to spare.

The Cornhuskers hit their straps with an 8.00pm debut at the Maldon Hotel, the main venue in town. They acquitted themselves well, considering they mounted the stage cold from a workaday week and a three hour effort to travel and settle in at the camp site and Coates’ Gracelands on Reef Street.

Saturday was filled with camp site sessions, wandering town, looking after the family. Slim got to play with his new toy – a studio quality digital podcast recorder that fits snugly in the top pocket of a cowboy shirt. Stay tuned to the Shack for some of the snippets of Maldon music, in venues and on the street.

The day’s proceedings ended with a fine and highly entertaining set from Slim’s Tassie friends Coyote Serenade playing the best of the 40’s cowboy songs and laid-back western swing. The most elegant collection of frocks, boots, hats, instruments and horses you ever saw this side of Montana and Arizona.

Early Sunday the Cornhuskers arrived at the railway station for a photo-op with a festival photographer named Brian. They posed in all their sartorial splendour from one end of the station to the other. Spying the salubrious buffet car at the end of the train, replete with carpet and wicker chairs, they thought they were on a winner. Until the guard came and informed them that it was reserved and they had been assigned a special carriage – a luggage van or guard’s van, depending on your perspective. At least they got to feel like regular train-hopping hobos, although only a few punters could actually get into the carriage to hear them. No mind.

The sublime moment of the weekend occurred as the steam train was at the end of its return run into Maldon from Castlemaine. The Cornhuskers were ripping into a blistering rendition of Johnny Cash’s Orange Blossom Special to the accompaniment of a very tuneful roaring steam whistle. Ah, you wouldn’t be dead for quids!

Sunday afternoon the weather was made in heaven. Slim wandered around, soaking up the atmosphere and snapping a few shots and recording a few street sessions. Magic! The High & Lonesome boys honoured the sinking of the sun below the yard arm with a medicinal ale on the street verandah of the Kangaroo Hotel. The ensuing session raged on for over three hours as the sinking sun surrendered the sky to a gibbous full moon.

Sunday evening was mostly wind-down night, with everyone relaxed enough to chatter and laugh away the hours over dinner and wine to the sound of old-timey tunes played outside the open window by a middle-aged american woman on a lonesome fiddle with sensational accompanists on french accordion, dobro, guitar, bass and whistle. Ah, you wouldn’t be dead for quids!

By Monday, any sane person begins to question just exactly why they are still in Town when most folks have left. The Cornhuskers, however, had the honour of being the last act at the main site, Mt Tarrengower, playing in the Troubadour Wine Bar to a sizable audience of die-hard old-school enthusiasts and lovers of loose arrangements. A fine performance it was, despite not really waking up until about the fourth number in the set. Some punters were up and dancing in the dust in front of the stage. Magnificent!

Come along to High & Lonesome's next Irish Murphys gig on November 23 and you may hear some Cornhuskers reprise.