A lot of soft air up in Dorrigo. The morning after there were lost hats to contend with, vodka memories slinking in, the pack and the Lug. But beauteous hills were rolling away around us and there was that spring high-range glow.

The carnage had been considerable. A vicious melee down by the bar during ‘Motherlode’. Much hilarity and dancing, particularly in ‘Tequila and Methadone’. Three sets of maximum country rock and roll in this mountaintop RSL where The Re-mains had never played before. Fuelled by a particularly aggressive home brew prepared by my fellow columnist ‘The Loon’ and called, appropriately ‘Stupid’, we’d embarked on the night in high spirits.

Afficionados of the band had come from as far afield as Bellingen, Coffs Harbour and even Mackay to hear the latest tunes from the new line-up, comprising recruit Jason Caspen and the return of Uncle Burnin’ Love.

Afterwards we attended a soiree at the house of Danny, who’d provided the PA gratis. There we were provided with a bar of mythical proportions. A mystical glaze filmed over Jones’ eyes.

Things were less convivial in the morning. But it was Sunday, and Hawthorn had won the AFL Final. Not that I ain’t a confirmed Collingwood man, it’s just that I haven’t watched a game in months, and I missed this one too. But I get all nostalgic about the 70’s and that.

This week we head to Sydney and the Hunter Valley for a short tour, culminating at Gibbo-Stock in Nundle, near Tamworth. Here the likes of Jackie Marshall, Swaino, ex-Sydney stevedore/chanteuse and Gibbo himself, a notorious shearer with a voice like Caruso are gathering to rekindle the spirit of wherever we were last time we got together.