Sour Bridges



Somewhere up on Cripple Creek, there’s an old log cabin where the gang used to gather to pass the bottle and trade tall tales. Sometimes, a back-porch pickin’ party would break out, and they’d spend hours strumming country-rock classics, drivin’ that train through the Band, the Byrds, Buffalo Springfield and various Burrito Brothers, and even entering ex-Beatles territory on “Crippled Inside.” (Yes, dogs did howl along with their lusty harmonies on that one.)