Just past Abilene en-route to Austin, we're moving with fair uncertainty. Upon arrival in Austin, apart from a few dimes left on the credit cards and in Megan's purse, we have no amount of cash. We're waiting for a couple of transfers to come through, but need money now for a hotel room, gas and food...you know the small stuff. Don't sweat the little stuff? Not likely. Maybe we can manage the food, we'll split a sub or something. Gas? Well, we use a credit card, it only puts a hold on $1 until the full transaction goes through the system and posts. But the hotel? Crap. We may be making a reservation for our backseat...if only it weren't full of luggage.

We pull over to a hotel along the road somewhere in Brownwood, Texas. Megan pulls out her laptop and checks to see if their wifi is secure. It isn't. We get online and hit Priceline to start bidding on hotels in Austin. It has to come to less than $42 with taxes and fees (which usually run about $12 a night). Our first few tries don't work...the amount is too high and the card is refused. She does some clever workaround that fools the site into thinking we're making a completely new bid. The computer starts beeping, the battery is dying. It's plugged into the adaptor in the car, but it turns out it runs too high a wattage for it to handle. $25? Rejected. Resubmit. Beep, beep, beep says the fading computer. $28? Accepted! Beep, beep, beep. Cut and paste the address into Google Maps from our current location...which is? I dunno, just put the town we're in, quick! Beep, beep, beep. Needs a captcha before it'll send the directions to our phones! Wrong?! Crap! Type it again! Got it right. Hit send. The computer dies. Our phones get the directions just in time.

After a high five and a smooch, we're back on the road to Austin. While driving, we discuss what to do for food. I pull over at an H.E.B. store in the middle of the last town for 80 miles. How much is left on the card? $15. Okay, loaf of bread, chicken dogs, salsa, beer, smokes...$10.48. Phew. Made it. Back on the road.

We have a place to stay, gas in the car and food...for now. But still, we're not out of the woods. We're depending on the money showing up in the account by morning so we can pay down the credit cards and avoid any overages...and cover more of the little things like eat, buy gas and  pay for another night at the hotel. Let's not forget that we also have cell phones to pay, occasional prescriptions to fill, a monthly storage in Chicago to pay for and the always unexpected needs to cover like my boots having a huge hole in the sole and they're my only footwear. Further spinning our tiny tempest of uncertainty is that, other than one show I have booked and a scheduled photo shoot for Megan in a few days, we have no firm hold on work in Austin, as it looks like a couple things we had set up fell through.

The thought of abandoning our original plans, heading back north and regrouping from a family home in the woods of Wisconsin, is not appealing to either of us. We had planned to land in Texas to stay, making Austin our base of operations. This feels like failure.

Our choice to leave Chicago was not made on a loose whim. We weighed our options there and elsewhere, made lists of what we want, like and need, compared them, researched locations...for nearly a year. After traveling to various places during that time and eventually deciding on the Austin area, we made meticulous plans for a 30 day tour that ended at our final destination. Along the way, we saw even our conservative expectations were not being met. We adapted. We kept the faith. We remained confident in ourselves and the strength of our actions.

We've been consistently surprised and delighted by the constant words of support from people all over the country and deeply appreciative of the money that's come in through sales and such from shows, as well as online "tips" through my website. Who would've thought that people would feel compelled to send money to a couple touring around in their blue Honda? It became clear that we were doing much more than that in the eyes of others. People have been commenting that they've always wanted to do what we're doing--throw caution to the wind (even though we actually planned it all out) and travel town to town on luck and a prayer like gypsies. We're reminded that music used to be shared primarily in this fashion and that before recordings, those of some financial standing would provide for the musicians in order that they could have music all the time. Even in more recent generations, musicians would travel in whatever manner they could, and in each town would be welcomed by the locals. They'd be fed and given lodging in exchange for their entertainment. Finding that we're not only keeping this tradition alive, but inspiring people to take greater risks themselves in the search for a better quality of life, has been part of our mental fuel in these on going travels. Things like this make the prospect of being stopped in mid flight that much more upsetting.

Still, we know this trip isn't over and the question of success will be judged after the effects of our work, not by the immediate situation. This is the third leg of a never ending tour, but it is the most poignant stretch, as it marked our final departure from Chicago. Where we go from here may be up in the air, but at least we'll get there. After doing this as many times as I have, I've become used to a certain scenario, much like our hunt for the cheapest hotel as the computer died.

"Cut the blue wire...no no no! The green one!" 9-8-7-6..."Wait!" (Suspenseful pause)..."the red one!" 4-3-2...snip...beeeep..."self-destruct aborted."