Caledonian Cowboy

Name: Caledonian Cowboy
Address: Glasgow, G784AA, GB
Telephone: +447920804171
Price range: ££
Rating: 4.9

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Caledonian Cowboy

Caledonian Cowboy promotes the various written, performance and craftsman works of Johnny Gauld. He's part Huckleberry Finn, part Oor Wullie.
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Johnny 'Caledonian Cowboy' Gauld is the enthusiastically humorous and engaging piper/poet, writer, adventurer and all round Scottish raconteur, whose tales songs, stories and poems are the perfect antidote to whatever ails you! A cross between Bill Bryson and Indiana Jones. A modern day Burns with a hint of McGinn...H. Rider Haggard meets Moses! As well as as being a well seasoned performer of the

works of Robert Burns, Caledonian Cowboy has a massive repertoire of his own hilariously honest poems, songs and tales to entertain every size of audience. Whether it be his one man show or with his army of performers with 'Wee Jock's Big Braw Scottish Nite', Caledonian Cowboy is more than able to bring laughter and entertainment to every type of event. He also regularly hosts whisky and rum tasting events at numerous venues, and has also hosted steak tasting dinners. With an ever-growing roster of ceilidh and folk performers, Caledonian Cowboy regularly performs with a vast array of qualified and professional musicians capable of entertaining any corporate or private party. Caledonian Cowboy Collective is a full time 15 piece professional pipes & drums band who have performed at many of the finest venues in the country. The Collective can tailor it's numbers to suit, from a solo piper to a full 30 piece Collective. Speaking and performing are only a small part of Caledonian Cowboy's career and he is also a successfully published author of original poems and songs, as well as works in both fiction and non-fiction.

***

As a piper, he has performed at all of Scotland's major music festivals such as T in the Park, Rockness, The Wickerman, Live at Loch Lomond and Belladrum. He has also performed on many of Glasgow's famous stages i.e. The Barrowland Ballroom, the 02 Academy, The S.E.C.C., The Hydro, The A.B.C., Glasgow Green, Hampden and The Tallship. Other venues in Scotland include The Edinburgh Festival Fringe, The Picture House, Corn Exchange and Liquid Rooms in Edinburgh, the Caird Hall, Motherwell, The A.E.C.C. in Aberdeen, amongst many more. Some of the well known singers and bands that Caledonian Cowboy has performed with are - Ian Brown, Madness, The Alabama 3, The Aliens, Steve Mason, The Enemy, Deacon Blue, The Horne Section, The Stone Roses, Bill Drummond, The Amphetameanies, The Lee Thompson Ska Orchestra, Ruts D.C., Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott, and The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu. Caledonian Cowboy was also the solo piper to launch the Queen's Baton for the Commonwealth relay/Glasgow 2014.

***

01/12/2025

As previously promised, so continues…

Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet # 17

Wake up in very hot Motel 6 in West Virginia…it’s still muggy outside…has been for days….feel parched…shower…hear the end credits of the 60’s Batman telly show…loved that programme when I was wee…the theme tune is still forever brilliant…especially the last vocal of - BATMAAAN!…getting ready…see what’s next on telly…end up dying with laughter…it’s the opening credits for Lynda Carter in the New Adventures of Wonder Woman…it’s dead funny…I can also see the appeal!

***

Drive to Harper’s Ferry…have wanted to visit here for a long time…and the time is now…a glorious morning…blue and bright and braw…hadn’t realised it was listed as a National Park…somewhere on my head I had just thought you drove up…parked…got oot an’ aboot…but no way, siree!…drive slow through the old town…original buildings and sidewalks…wide streets…all in a stunning setting…at end of Main Street turn left…find a small carpark at train station…it’s full…so hang around…drive slowly round and round…finally nab a wee narrow space after a grey granny and her horde of a family leave…it’s a paid space…but where to pay cash is a total mystery…a small sign says to go to a store down on main street…so scribble a note and stick it in windscreen…tune up my bagpipes…saddle my hat…sling my pack…and set off…along and through the old streets…soaking up the history…and what a history to soak in…this wee town is steeped in so much importance…John Brown's raid against slavery…the struggle for freedom, education, civil rights…close to the Blue Ridge and dotted with dozens of Civil War battlefields…she’s a cracker…but for me it’s something older than that…deeper…the ancestral lands of the Shawnee and Tuscarora…the original people of this land…but deeper still…just as the river Sark fascinates me in Scotland…and when I was a wee boy I once set off to go find the source of the Levern Burn in the town I grew up in…all because I learned about the mighty Nile river in Egypt…so too, it’s the magical confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac rivers…there is something truly magical about nature…so much so, it’s sometimes easy to forget people…as the land is more often than not the true source of stories…head down to river’s edge…strike up my pipes…and play for the South…a small crowd gather…heading over from all directions…I just wanted to play in peace…but bagpipes are like a magnetic to many…I’m not and never rude…so answer everything directed at me…head up onto bridge…it’s the railway across the waters, but you can also walk it…it’s exciting…it’s exactly how I want it to be…the surroundings spectacular…stunning…just absolutely brilliant…fire up bagpipes again…and march along bridge…hundreds of feet above the river…Scotland the Brave…a medley of jigs…plus my own theme tune - Regards, Good Luck & Keep on the Sunnyside…unsurprisingly I’m shot, filmed, questioned, applauded…invited to be in photos…absolutely obliterated with questions…everyone so happy and engaging and enthusiastic…I’m just grateful I had first managed to play interrupted…walking and piping from West Virginia across railway bridge into Maryland…stunning…absolutely stunning…if there was one place I’d want to be on this particular adventure…it’s here…I knew I was right…especially when yet another Kaiser Lud story falls fully formed into my brain…head back across bridge…over scrappy ground…return to small town…almost immediately meet Tommy, his son Jordan and a friend (I can’t remember his name)…all from Pennsylvania…dead excited to see a piper…especially a Scottish piper…ask me to play…so I play…the trio look so happy…exploding with smiles…go to give me tips…I refuse…they demand…still I refuse…the money notes are crushed into my palm…I don’t cause a fuss..just thank them kindly…we talk for a while…give them badges…then ask them to follow me to my car…we laugh the whole 5 minute walk…give my last copy of my debut album to Jordan…he is near flattened by the present…he offers to pay…I refuse…say their tips were far too kind…felt I had to give them more than some live bagpipe music…they are so appreciative and humbled…we blether more…and laugh just as much…they go to buy ice cream cones…a Manchester family come say hello…ask for photos…tell them I have family in their city…and I’m the piper for two of their homegrown artists…Ian Brown…and The Stone Roses…they are bowled over…I sing Brown and the Roses praises…everybody happy…bid them farewell…reflect for briefest moment on my own career…thus far…it has been broad, colourful and exciting…magic…just braw…a beastie lands on my leg…no idea what it is…it doesn’t look aggressive…watch it for a bit…it certainly isn’t a good looking beastie…beasties seldom are…gentle brush it away…it flies off…take some more time exploring…look out across the Shenandoah…she really is beautiful…head back to car…in all the afternoon’s excitement…forgot about parking ticket…only realise once driving away…ah, well…sometimes you win!

***

Drive for 10 minutes…cross into Virginia…only a couple hundred yards from the state line park at a wee petrol station…there’s nothing else nearby…just the station, the road and the river…pull out pipes…march down the edge of the road playing…from Virgina into West Virginia…folk cheer out of trucks and cars…waving…smiling…some nearly skidding…as brakes are slammed on…suppose it wasn’t the best place to play…but…you have to do what you have to do when on adventure…return back over stateline into Virginia…two bikers ready to leave nod over at me…one looks mighty impressed…the other salutes and waves…then smiles like a madman…I wave back and say thanks…feeling a wee bit disappointed I didn’t get to climb the hill earlier I had hoped to climb…but it was closed for construction above the railway line and bridge…that’s why I only played on the bridge…hopefully there will be a next time…buy a couple of gas station dogs…not the best for you…nowhere near the worst…at a dollar thirty-nine each how can you refuse a hot dog or two…’We be fine living!’…ask for a cup of hot water…eat hotdogs and make tea in the parking bay…vehicles shuttle up and down highway heading North and South…a big tall man from West Virgina says hello…I get speaking with him…his name’s Reggie…he’s cool, calm and steady…’Steady Reggie’…conversation strikes up naturally…the usual - Where are you from? Why are you here? What’s your name?…I ask if he was an athlete …Reggie shyly smiles…says once upon a time he was…he’s got the build and tall frame of someone who is lean, fit and strong…I play Reggie some tunes…he’s gets emotional…has a wee bubble…we shake hands and speak some more…tells me it’s his 76th birthday today…so I play Happy Birthday To You for him…followed up with Amazing Grace…and When the Saints Go Marching In…I felt those three would mean the most to Reggie…I was right on the money…

‘Man! You something else. An absolute gentleman. Why you here?’

….so I tell him…he’s amazed and smiles…

‘Johnny, we need more like you in this crazy old world.’

…now my turn to get awkward…that shyness I’ve explained previously.…like properly awkwardly shy…

‘Some more Reggie’s wouldn’t be too bad either.’

…he smiles a massive smile…we both laugh…some other time…some other place…we’d be pals…and to rubber stamp my thought…

‘Johnny, you a gentlemen. We’d be friends.’

…and with that…it’s over…Reggie and I shake hands with warm honest words to each other.

…and that, people, is why I love my adventures so much…just meeting strangers and folk…laughing…talking…sometimes making a person’s day…or they yours…or just both together…we have it all…but we’re just too stupid to know it…if I was told right there and then that my piping for Reggie was the final time I’d play the bagpipes…

…then what a gig to end on!

***

Pass a bridge called Big Gunpowder Falls…what a terrific name…the another one…Big Elk Falls…no’ bad…but Big Gunny still wins it for
Me…heading North…back to whence I came…choose to take a longer route to avoid tolls…only 30 minutes longer…plus it goes through a small place called Rising Sun…another smashingly brilliant name…after hills and forest and valleys…back to rolling countryside and corn fields…sun blazing…skies a-blue-ing…radio settling down for the first time in over 2 days…it’s picking up a country channel…unfortunately all modern country…the sort of stuff that folk like when they say they love country music…but mention Flatts and Scruggs, Hank Williams or The Stanley Brothers…they look at you blankly…or say -

‘Oh, not the kind of country!’

…as is what always happens when I’m driving across the States, it nearly always takes me between half an hour and hour later to get anywhere…all because I keep stopping to look at things…mooch about…take photos…there have even been times I’ve been a day or more late…just because I went walking into trails and/or the wilderness…the previous year I was an incredible 5 days later getting on with things…just because wee Pinkie and I vanished into the Smoky Mountains on an adventure…and ended up staying there longer than planned…if there hadn’t been two top drawer and very great gigs in Boston and Manhattan with the mighty Madness…we might yet still be in Tennessee!…stop at stateline for a brief pipe across from Maryland into Delaware…a couple
of houses nearby…nothing else…a man came out and waved enthusiastically…then vanished back into his garage…other than being the first founded state in America…and that it was mentioned briefly in the comedy film Wayne’s World, I know nothing of Delaware…find another Motel 6 again…after a quick dodge into Delaware for an 11 minute drive…before exiting back into Maryland…a quick Google Map route shows the journey like a flower…4 loops all entwined to travel a couple more minutes…it looks complicated, but it isn’t…check in….it’s decent enough…head straight out…find a gap in the perimeter fence…always a win for anyone…so much so, that I think everyone should always search for a gap in a fence…it’s the wee win of the day…go eat in a roadside trucker place…obviously popular with everyone…as it’s jam packed…the Golden Corral…a buffet type thing…y’know, it wasn’t too bad at all…chicken (with or without batter…I went without), braised brisket, hush puppies, big prawns, an endless bowl of salad…and definitely the best bbq baked beans I’ve ever had…

…to be continued…

(*Due to an unbelievable run of unique and exciting gigs for Caledonian Cowboy, an ***INTERMISSION*** was called on Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet.

The reason being, we returned home from that 3 week long adventure - for all of 3 days, which were filled to the brim with gigs in Scotland - before heading back to America to commence with the next block of shows that became - Br’er Braw & the Thunder Trumpet.

We literally just ran out of time to post everything up, but not to worry, and for your pleasure, we have now re-commenced Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet.

It’s good to be in demand!*)

30/11/2025

In high demand for his enthusiastic storytelling and original verse, Caledonian Cowboy makes sure he always has his pipes handy too…as a prop…a piece…and to play!

A wonderful one man Saint Andrew celebration at Òran Mór, Glasgow this evening.

Braw!

30/11/2025

This is the final card we will all see, when it is indeed THE END, so what are you waiting for?

Caledonian Cowboy has long told his audiences - go climb that hill, paint that picture, explore that place, form that band, write that book…cos nobody is guaranteed a tomorrow, and why should we, for we are lucky to have today!

29/11/2025

Written at the time, as Caledonian Cowboy played the pipes at Gettysburg National Military Park…

For, the Unknown Gray

First, they come and meet you,
With smiled promises and plans,
Then taught you how to march, son,
With a rifle in your hand,
As the little drummer boy -
sets the beat, as boots did fall,
With your brothers, you proudly answered,
When the bugle - sounds it call,

To that field they led you onwards,
Beneath a tattered flag,
And so began, a choir of chaos,
Filled with screams - triumphant laughs,

Cannonballs, soar and target,
Soon the dead are envied so,
Once smoke clears, the rifles loaded,
Both North and South, have another go,
With a yell - swords drawn and pointed,
By those appointed to lead their charge,
A clash of opposing factions,
Recruitment of the innocent - young lads,

And one, whose name is now forgotten,
Lost to a history, long since passed,
At Devil’s Den was slain,
That young Gray, he breathed his last,

And there - now lying,
For this, his final time,
Soon unknown in this civil war, so raw,
As a flashbulb makes a dime,
Another nameless soldier,
Leaking red upon the field,
Someone’s beloved son -
whose soul, no longer yields,

People back in a hometown,
His safety they be yearning,
Wonder, pray that he’ll be home soon,
Cabin fires, brightly burning,

As the fighting ebbs,
‘least ‘til lead is fired, again,
Brother set upon brother,
Whether man, boy - children,
That sliver of rare peace,
As the warring, it gave way,
Someone still remembers,
Aye…the forgotten Gray,

Dragged in his tattered -
uniform an’ torn flesh,
Laid close to where it seemed,
He might look his best,
As flashbulbs exploded,
To magic image onto page,
No one, would ever care again,
For that young, unknown Gray,

That sliver of rare peace,
As warring, might give way,
Someone forever remembers -
that young, forgotten Gray.

(C) Johnny Gauld/Caledonian Cowboy - 27th September, 2025

28/11/2025

As previously promised, so continues…

Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet # 16

Pennsylvanians remind me of Okies…don’t get me wrong, I understand they are distinct…but the people of both these States, in my opinion, seem to fly steady and calm…nothing is overly or needlessly dramatic…either upwards or downwards…just straight forward…in this current World of madness, it really is quite pleasant…I enjoy talking with everyone I meet…especially strangers…but some things stick out more than others…hence my thoughts on the Pennsylvanians and Okies…it’s morning…nearly an hour drive to Gettysburg…reach the town…wish I had more time to explore…as it is old and quaint and hinting at stories to tell me…hmm…hope I can return…stop at a building with wee armies of Confederate and Union doll soldiers stood behind a pumpkin each…Hallowe’en is looming…but also representing what the place is most famous for…go in and tell the lassie in the store it’s the greatest display I’ve seen in recent times…she is so chuffed…add that I’m not just saying that…it really is incredible…drive straight to the battlefield…how naive of me…I sometimes forget I’m not in wee Scotland…but in big America…without giving it any real consideration, I thought Gettysburg’s battle site would be mostly a big field…Jings!…it’s absolutely massive…bigger than many big villages/smaller towns back home…I’m well aware it was a decisive and devastating battle…but, man…it’s a ginormous area to try and cover…head immediately to Visitors Centre…need to get my bearings…then make a loose plan…go daun’er round centre…peruse the artifacts…the armoury…read boards…apparently there are some other spectacular pieces to see in museum…but you must pay separately to view them…also…the crusher of all plans, time, isn’t freely available…so see what I see…readying to go tour the site…get caught up looking at stump of a tree riddled with shrapnel…it had been removed from the field…the crude lumps of iron stuck in the stump being fascinatingly cruel instruments of warfare…a guide comes up…showing off a cannonball he carries in a special bag…I ask to feel the weight…unsurprisingly, weighs a lot…he hears the accent…asks where I’m from…doesn’t really listen to my reply…as goes straight into a story about canister shot…becomes all too obvious this is his ‘thing’…I politely listen…it is fairly interesting…but he starts to get too boringly technical…suddenly -

‘Yeah, it was invented for the war. You guys ever hear of it?’

…hmm…don’t want to sound facetious…or come across rude by not saying what I know…plus I’ve been asked a question…so it would only be good manners to answer -

‘It was called grapeshot in Scotland.’

‘Huh! Yeah, that’s what common soldiers would call it. When d’you guys start using it?’

‘No idea, but probably the most popular account is at the battle of Culloden. Devastated the Jacobites fighting in 1746.’

‘Yeah! You Scotch must have imported it from us.’

…I say nothing…I’m not a fan of obnoxious or smug fact correctors…yet, facts should be corrected…but only in the proper manner…so still I say nothing…then I see the numbers birling round in the man’s eyeballs…he’s doing the sums between the date I gave and 1863 when the battle of Gettysburg took place…

‘What year did you say?’

‘1746.’

‘Huh!’

…that’s the only noise he makes…thank him for his time and go mooching about…I want to be outside…in the open…at 6000 hectares, have no idea where to start…or what you do to tour the site…turns out you get in your car and drive over miles of well maintained and marked roads…you can organise being in a bus with others…or book a private car with driver, who will tell you what you want to know…or just make it up as you go along…I chose the latter…smart natural wooden fencing…just simple long logs stacked atop at each end…often in a loose zig zag pattern to stop them falling over…no nails, dowels or dooks…just as natural as can be…very rural and I love it…verge grasses and other areas well mown…dozens of monuments…in fact, over 1300 of them…that’s not a typo…one thousand three hundred plus…local stonemasons and cutters must have been inundated with monumental work…drive around…getting out car often…trying to cram in as much as I can with hardly a pocketful of time...the markers range from beautifully carved stones of actual sized soldiers - from both Confederate and Union sides...to dozens of statues…busts…memorial markers…and absolute massive memorial halls…cannons dot the entire site…placed in the positions where the originals aimed from…pipe atop a modern watchtower…started out just me…letting the pipes play for peace…time I’m done a small audience had climbed the steel tower to watch and film me…Gettysburg’s field is massive…I thought it would just be a near open expanse of ground…maybe some low hills and woodland…kind of just like the aforementioned Culloden Moor in Scotland…but no…Gettysburg is immense…climb to the top of the gigantic Pennsylvania Monument…play bagpipes out on the walk round balcony…only one tune seemed right - Amazing Grace…met with tears, applause, handshakes, a couple of salutes, a cuddle, a few nods, some hand praising gestures…and dozens of questions…stacks of thanks and appreciative comments made…invited to join family photos and more…on way back down the stone stairs and to my car…thanked another 17 times from other folk…go keep exploring…agree with myself to return here in the future…speak with some folk who visit every year…more than a few some 3,4,5 times every year…and have done for decades…that may sound excessive…but maybe it’s for history…interest…remembering the fallen…regardless…they enjoy it…and it’s not just folk who lived nearby…visitors flew or drove across the country…from hundreds of miles away…to come back and back again…go looking for Devils Den…I thought it might have been more difficult to find…it was easy…read many years ago the history of a photo taken here during the battle…a young Confederate soldier lying dead on the ground…nobody knew his name…but the photo became widely known…turns out the photographer moved the body from somewhere close by to make the shot he was taking look better…celebrating and advertising war is not a new thing…but can’t think of many more things as cold as that…if it was a serial killer or garden variety murderer taking photos of the dead, then there would be outrage…but because the photographer was probably regarded as a ‘professional’ they were allowed to do what they wanted…cold, cruel…all for a dollar and a piece of fame…how balanced would it have been if the soldier’s friends got hold of the photographer…battered and tortured him…took photos along the way…then dragged him out to be displayed like a bloodied attraction…I’m more than sure the outcome would be different…climb up on the rocks…play the Dark Island for the unknown Gray…a verse from a new poem falls into my head…people stop what they’re doing in the surrounds…I let the tune drift out…then stop…quietly climb down…a lot of solemn nodding towards me…it wasn’t for show…the photo bothered me then…still sort of does…not the image…the casual callousness behind the display of death…

‘Excuse me sir, can I ask why you played. I enjoyed it very much, but have to ask.’

…tell the wee tidy lady, with her husband and friend, why…

‘Thank you. Thank you, so much. That means a lot. You are a kind soul.’

…and off I go with a quiet thanks in reply and a nod…hike further up to the Big Round Top…and Little Round Top…following the trail through the woods, then up on the small hill…the remaining verses of a new poem fall into my skull…need to write it down quickly…otherwise I might lose it forever…scores of people visiting…all head to a place of interest…take photos…hang about for a bit…then head to next place of interest…meet David and Davie (aka Dave junior) and their wife/mum…they ask me many questions…the usual…amazed and so happy someone from Scotland is here…who was also playing the pipes…then meet Rock, a bluegrass player from Virginia…we end up talking a lot about Appalachian music and bluegrass…he is absolutely fascinated with the ties to Scotland’s fiddle music and more…even down to some of the old timey dancing…and many words…

‘Man, I could talk to you all day. Gotta get you over here to talk with the young ’uns. They gotta hear these stories, man. It’s important.’

…at top of Big Top Tower meet two teachers…and one of their sons and daughters…they hit me with a tsunami of questions…somehow I get them laughing a lot…they batter me with more questions…I’m surprising myself that I don’t struggle for an answer…play pipes again…every soul in the entire stretch of open land between the tower and Devil’s Den stop to look towards the sound…I’m too far off in the distance for many to even make me out…but the skirl plays loud and proud across Gettysburg…for them all…and those still there.

***

Back at visitors centre meet Steve Lock from near Consett, Northumberland, England…tell him I have a pal from there..he asks who…turns out he knows a Dixon a too…shoot a video of him saying hello to my pal Dicka aka Darren Dixon…he tells desk security to give me a Gettysburg badge…I give them a Caledonian Cowboy badge each…Steve and I end up talking about stottie cake and pease pudding…have a good laugh blethering about home…he wears a small velcro Union flag on his uniform…says his boss found it important and respectful that he fly his flag…I agree with the sentiment…take one last photo of my pipes with a big bronze statue of Honest Abe…been spitting rain since 1pm…it’s now 6.15…the day had just totally vanished.

***

Head straight to Harpers Ferry, West Virgina…stop in the way for a cup of hot water at a service station…stick a teabag in it…make a big decent brew for the rest of the drive…not long left Gettysburg…cross into Maryland…been through here many years before…avail stunning…dusk settling in…cross the Potomac River…a heavy mist coming down…but still just bright enough to witness the beauty of Shenandoah…wooded cliffs and natural unmatched beauty…she is an absolute stunner…a true beauty to behold…quickly becoming dark…immediately want to stop…it’s beautiful eerie and beckoning…cut deep into the geography…screaming to be adventured…hope I get the chance to return…but have to go find digs…weary and needing a break from myself…let alone anything else.

***

Check in to a Motel 6…sort of hidden out the way…along a private drive lit up with a series of individual lights fixed to a bright white fence…feels like landing a plane in a strip at night…or mebbe going to Heaven…head straight out…5 minute drive…Walmart…don’t know what I want to eat…meet Wilhelm…he’s serving at the hot food counter…tells me his mother was a Jewish German…father an Armenian communist…his mother named him Wilhelm so that they Nazi’s wouldn’t suspect anything of their Jewish heritage during the war…asks if I’m of German stock…offer my usual - ‘Sprechen sie Deutsch?’…then say I’m Scottish…he looks confused at the German army flags on my shirt sleeves…say it’s my favourite shirt…he laughs…we talk…gives a chicken wing to try…he’s nearly closed for the day…says I look German with my blue eyes…and the baldy head!…I laugh…say I’ve been told worse… then he leans across counter…quietly enquires if I’m a little bit Jewish…reply -

‘Aye, Probably a wee bit.’

‘Yes, so it seems.’

…Wilhelm gives me 15 chicken wings…only charges me for six….turns out he’s a retired scientist…no reason not to believe him…especially when he says - ‘Eat more beef…for the magnesium…it’s good for the brain. Here, they eat too many birds!’…then does a wee oy vey Yiddish type thing with his hands…so I clapped mine and swept my upturned right hand towards him in a similar manner…he knew…I knew…we laughed…back to motel…shower…watch some rubbish telly…always a channel on about ancient alien theories or lost treasure and other secrets…read my book for a few chapters…hear something scuttling…something catches my eye..see a cockroach on ceiling…was just going to leave it…then wonder if it might falll off in my sleep..would I roll over and crush it?…would it burrow into me for a heat?…would it plummet into my mouth?…beasties don’t bother me…but being found choked to death by a cockroach isn’t much of a way to die…get a wee hand cloth and gently catch it…then wheech it out into the muggy night…see The Lost Boys has started…I only barely glimpse it…a better vampire film was released the same year it was released…it was called Near Dark…it’s a classic of the 80’s…nobody talks about that one…and it feels as if nobody has seen it…everyone loved The Lost Boys…lassies because of the main cast…boys because they wanted to be the main cast…it was just - and still is - safe and bland girly to me…go back to reading book…trying to get to page 50 before I close for the night…and I did…plus a wee bit more…brush teeth…think on the forgotten Confederate photo…a piece of music from earlier in the day pushes a few more notes into my skull…and some words…promise I’ll do something with both.

…to be continued…

(*Due to an unbelievable run of unique and exciting gigs for Caledonian Cowboy, an ***INTERMISSION*** was called on Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet.

The reason being, we returned home from that 3 week long adventure - for all of 3 days, which were filled to the brim with gigs in Scotland - before heading back to America to commence with the next block of shows that became - Br’er Braw & the Thunder Trumpet.

We literally just ran out of time to post everything up, but not to worry, and for your pleasure, we have now re-commenced Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet.

It’s good to be in demand!*)

27/11/2025

As previously promised, so continues….

Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet # 15

Morning…quick visit to nearby Walmart…want apples and carrots…only find apples…and a big American sub…must be giving off some recidivist vibes in the States…as asked to present my receipt when leaving shop…this happened because I was saving the World in my own wee way and not using a shopping bag…just trying to do my bit for the environment…funnily enough, I was also about to just bin the receipt at the scan thru …but the wee voice from the ‘dine and dash’ situation last week in Lincoln whispered -

‘Keep your receipt!’

…think the lady checking the proof of purchase was a bit disappointed she didn’t get a bust…or a hearty slap on the back from her bosses…ha!…no crime today, lady!…out to carpark…weather bright and dry…use boot lid of car as a table…nice morning…love a bit of fresh air…take Kamp King penknife from pocket…my favourite penknife too.…cut sub in two…slide half into one side of the package…then into other side of package…to create a loose seal…like a double sleeping bag…eat other half…slug some Coke…take folate and stomach tablets….eat an apple from 4 days ago…a bit soft…but still firm enough to be enjoyable.

***

Get lost following a couple of wrong roads…most I was wrong, was following a road less than quarter of a mile…just sensed something wasn’t right…and it wasn’t…stop…check map…turn round on lonely country road and return…on forest roads and mountain tracks, it is very easy to miss a turnoff…that’s why horror slasher films and backwood maniac tales are so successfully prevalent in these parts of the States…partly due to it not being too much of a stretch of the imagination…the vast wildness of the U.S. must hold thousands of untold secrets…meanwhile…I’m in search of the greatest trail name I’ve ever heard - Shades of Death!…discovered by myself by sheer coincidence…I’d been looking up trails to hike…there may be better, more interesting, endlessly exciting trails..even ones offering more shade…more death…more anything…but none of that matters…because Shades of Death sounds absolutely brilliantly nuts…nobody I spoke to knew why it’s called that…it doesn’t matter anyway…it’s just a terrifically dark invite…and one I’m definitely going to find…further along country road…find carpark…not many spaces at all…but there is a portaloo for those who need such things…apparently there’s a visitor centre some distance further on too…but I see the sign for the trail…shoot a short video of me panning down on the sign…with added - ‘Dah, dah…daaaah!’ - for the drama…trail disappears into trees…saddle my hat and sling my packs…and go…follow the Sand Spring Run…it’s a river…we’d just call it a decent sized burn in Scotland…now flowing freely after yesterday’s downpour…a lot of people have said the State was in drought…other than the obvious lack of rain, I don’t know the technicalities of what constitutes a drought…but is there a timescale?…what measurements of water, pressure, moisture, death and/or growth are involved?…apparently there has been no rain for weeks…and it was very obvious it was dry…but a drought?…I’m still a bit unsure if a bout of good dry weather is truly a drought…but, anyway…as with many U.S. trails, Shades of Death is clearly marked…rectangular painted mark on trees every few yards…almost idiot proof…almost!…cos we can all do something idiotic at times…I should know…cross over a makeshift duckboard bridge…trail follows edge of the burn…often walking on stones up the actual river itself…making it even more exciting…occasionally the sun cuts through the thick canopy…making the place feel more like a jungle…actually…do you recall the opening scenes of Raiders of the Lost Ark?…set in South America…that’s exactly what it felt like…flashes of bright sunlight…just momentarily…until you’re returned to the shade…the shade of Death!….its an easy trail…but quite an exciting wee walk…pass by waterfalls…hike short climbs…come up on a big lovely man made dam…seems a perfect picnic place…if that’s your thing…squeeze through a narrow pass between rocks…steps have been carved out…making the journey more adventurous and rewarding…especially as it adds another element to my ongoing Kaiser Lud stories…had plans to have the rest of my breakfast somewhere on the trail…but don’t feel hungry enough…neither do I want to stop moving…pass a couple…we all say hello…further along meet another couple…but by and large have trail to myself…climb out of glen where the water ran through…into a forest carpark…see a sign /

‘Prohibited activities on the Shades of Death Trail…are…swimming, wading, jumping, climbing, picnicking…and more!’

…feel that death itself would be a good activity to consider avoiding too…fines of $200 if caught doing any of the above…that will kibosh my opinion on picnics I had earlier, then!…carry on hiking along another path for a while…then remember l have to walk back…also remind myself I have tentative plans to drive to Harrisburg…hesitantly turn round after having a mild argument in my own head on whether to keep walking or start returning…on way back something scuttles out from leaves in front of me…take a look…it’s small with a black head…and I think a leg…I immediately delve deep into my rudimentary, yet fully recognised, veterinary skills…and go poke the wee beastie with a stick…understandably it didn’t like being stabbed with a stick…so it scuttled away some more…I only poked it because I was worried someone might stand on the wee lizard…toss aside my medical implement…carry on…a warm day indeed…but terrific walking weather…stuff a wad of tender beef jerky in my mouth…chew it until it’s just beef juice…return to trailhead…had noticed a small church across the road when I arrived…there were people outside earlier…being a piper I can smell a wedding from a thousand yards…and that’s downwind…upwind, easily 2 miles…cross the road and head on to a wooden rickety bridge…then on to a path leading towards the building…a church right enough…plain…simple…whitewashed wood…very of the type seen round much of this part of the Big Country..speak to a couple leaving…ask if a wedding was taking place…turns out it was their daughters wedding…pass on my congratulations…all guests had now left…not a soul around…sit on the decking of the church…in the sunshine and listening to the river run…eat remainder of my morning piece…cut slices of apple with my penknife…drink water…have a Jolly Rancher for dessert…briefly think about Kipling’s famed poem - ‘If’…enjoy the peaceful serenity of the moment.

***

Stop at a place called Manadahill…not far from Harrisburg…pee, plan and tea…well…hot water…charged 58 cents…teabag back in boot of car…sorry, we’re in America now, so trunk of automobile…decide to head straight to Gettysburg…drive straight back onto I81…massive tailback…sun bursting the sky…come up with two new songs..and I think a poem…although it might just become a talking blues number…hit another slow spot on I83…searching for route 15 South…crawl along…mutter and mumble possible rhymes to myself…take a wee unplanned detour…then a U-turn and head back to interstate…a momentary lapse of judgement…finally onto the 15…apparently there’s a Motel 6 coming up…have a vague plan to stay there…but a wee voice in me says to just push the last 30 odd miles to Gettysburg…so I listen to the voice…and glad I did…there was no Motel 6 at my initial place to stop…signage was there as per usual…just no motel…wonder if it had closed or was now called something else…getting dark…a burning orange eye of an horizon off to my right…the West looks on fire…notice in America it gets dull…then suddenly just dark…there’s no real in between…yet the sun still burns long in the horizon…just like the end of a good western…finally get to Gettysburg…see a Super 8…check price…it’s steep…so steep that another possible checker-inner became a walker-outer…I followed suit…I’m not accepting - ‘Cos it’s Friday!’…as a sound excuse to hike up prices…head to Motel 6…but this one is not there either…seems there’s been a purge…or a sell up…or a wrongly notified Google Maps…a building called the Lincoln Lofts is where my Motel 6 should be…it looks recently renovated…an old faded Motel 6 sign stands forlorn in the grounds by the pavement…possibly the last historic marker of what the building once was…drive back towards Super 8…wonder about a place next door to it…ask…its nearly half the price…its spotless…there’s a breakfast…and soap…a bit dearer than the last few days…but its been my longest day on the road yet…and I’m needing to stop…check in…walk along road into the next lot…go to Arby’s…famed chain for beef sandwiches…lassie taking order can’t believe I’m Scottish…or how I’ve ended up in Pennsylvania…then she and four of her colleagues just about melt my nut with questions about Europe, what language I was speaking, do all Scottish people have blue eyes, do you get dogs in Scotland, what currency do you use (‘It’s gotta be dollars…U.S. currency…ain’t it?’…explain it isn’t, shouted back in return - ‘IT AIN’T!!!’)…have a great laugh with my youthful audience filled with so many questions…good food too…only ever had three Arby’s my life…it was the right choice for tonight….

…to be continued…

(*Due to an unbelievable run of unique and exciting gigs for Caledonian Cowboy, an ***INTERMISSION*** was called on Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet.

The reason being, we returned home from that 3 week long adventure - for all of 3 days, which were filled to the brim with gigs in Scotland - before heading back to America to commence with the next block of shows that became - Br’er Braw & the Thunder Trumpet.

We literally just ran out of time to post everything up, but not to worry, and for your pleasure, we have now re-commenced Blue Horizons of the Thunder Trumpet.

It’s good to be in demand!*)

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Johnny 'Caledonian Cowboy' Gauld is the enthusiastically humorous and engaging piper/poet, writer, adventurer and all round Scottish raconteur, whose tales songs, stories and poems are the perfect antidote to whatever ails you! He's part Huckleberry Finn, part Oor Wullie. A cross between Bill Bryson and Indiana Jones. A modern day Burns with a hint of McGinn...H. Rider Haggard meets Moses! As well as as being a well seasoned performer of the works of Robert Burns, Caledonian Cowboy has a massive repertoire of his own hilariously honest poems, songs and tales to entertain every size of audience. Whether it be his one man show or with his army of performers with 'Wee Jock's Big Braw Scottish Nite', Caledonian Cowboy is more than able to bring laughter and entertainment to every type of event. Annually his one man Caledonian Cowboy/Robert Burns Celebratory Tour, sells out on every occasion to great acclaim. He regularly hosts whisky and rum tasting events at numerous venues, and has also hosted steak tasting dinners. With an ever-growing roster of ceilidh and folk performers, Caledonian Cowboy regularly performs with a vast array of qualified and professional musicians (billed as Caledonian Cowboy Ceilidh Collective) capable of entertaining any corporate or private party. Caledonian Cowboy Collective is a full time 18 piece professional pipes & drums band who have performed at many of the finest venues in the country. The Collective can tailor it's numbers to suit, from a solo piper to a full 36 piece Collective. Speaking and performing are only a small part of Caledonian Cowboy's career and he is also a successfully published author of original poems and songs, as well as works in both fiction and non-fiction. *** As a piper, he has played live at all of Scotland's major music festivals such as T in the Park, Rockness, The Wickerman, Live at Loch Lomond and Belladrum. He has also performed on many of Glasgow's famous stages i.e. The Barrowland Ballroom, the 02 Academy, The S.E.C.C., The Hydro, The A.B.C., Glasgow Green, Hampden, The Clyde Auditorium and The Tallship. Other venues and events in Scotland include The Edinburgh Festival Fringe, Edinburgh Castle, The Picture House, Corn Exchange and Liquid Rooms in Edinburgh, the Caird Hall in Motherwell, The A.E.C.C. in Aberdeen, The Royal Highland Show at Ingliston, amongst many more. Likewise, Caledonian Cowboy has played at a whole of celebrations and events throughout the U.K and the world with New York’s Tartan Day Parade, Sun Studios - Memphis, Checkpoint Charlie - New Orleans, Hank Williams boyhood home - Alabama, the Comedy Theatre and the Festival Hall - Melbourne, Australia, Heralding in the New Year in Fiji, and the Lady Boy Street Performers of Thailand being some of the highlights. On top of that there has been countless other performances throughout Spain, France, Italy, Dominican Republic, Czech Republic and Ireland. Some of the well known singers and bands that Caledonian Cowboy has performed with are - Ian Brown, Madness, The Alabama 3, The Aliens, Steve Mason, The Enemy, Deacon Blue, The Horne Section, The Stone Roses, Bill Drummond, The Amphetameanies, The Lee Thompson Ska Orchestra, Ruts D.C., Paul Heaton & Jacqui Abbott, and The Justified Ancients of Mu Mu. Caledonian Cowboy was also the solo piper to launch the Queen's Baton for the Commonwealth relay/Glasgow 2014. ***

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