DESERT DINAH. I played fiddle one night up in a canyon for a bunch of hippies. Afterward, bouncing down the dirt road in the dark I told my wife, “write this down!” I’m convinced real western music has nothing to do with loving horses and that sunburnt desert bohemian communities lie hidden throughout the silver state. Albeit remote and hard to find. Probably why I don’t have official cowboy singer status in Elko.