accidental occidental

After our harrowing descent from the Bighorn Mountains, in our quest to locate sustenance after a long day on the road, we dropped in on the historic Occidental Hotel in Buffalo. The plan was relatively simple; eat and return to basecamp for some well-deserved rest. Other happenings would have it another way. We found a table easy enough, in spite of how busy it seemed on this particular Thursday night. I commented as much to my partner in crime and a lady at the table next to us told us there was a reason for that. She went on to tell us that we had picked the perfect night for our first visit. In about 20 minutes, "the jam" was expected to begin. Our eyes turned quickly towards the corner of the room behind us identifying a makeshift stage with multiple microphones and string instruments. Our new friend explained how this weekly Bluegrass tradition went all the way back to the year of our lord two-thousand-six. She did ...