Ode to the travel guitar

 

Goodbye old friend!

I've had my Martin Backpacker guitar for 21 years and it's served me well throughout my life. It's traveled the world with me, at times providing me with companionship in isolated living conditions, or providing a tool to connect with people whom I do not share a language with. Sometimes, it's simply been vibes, the ability to bust out the guitar and provide the main entertainment or have someone sing or play another instrument with me. There have been sing-a-longs of world wide classics like Wonderwall and there have been quiet fingerpicking instrumentals in the background. 

The guitar has seen less and less use as I've gotten older. I think there are a few factors leading to the reduced use. The first is that I am less inclined to take many items with me while traveling. I used to pack the soft carrying bag with clothes and it would serve as a kind of backpack. A second reason is that I've become accustomed to a nylon string guitar and finger picking. The third, and probably biggest reason, is that over the years the guitar has become battered and bruised, and the action is no longer very comfortable nor is the sound very good. It sounds too bright and there is a slight vibration on one of the strings. In all the years I've owned it, the guitar has only suffered one injury. I loaned my friend the guitar and the body cracked. I repaired the crack, though at that stage it was more for sentimental reasons as the body is delicate the sound was compromised since that repair. Years of varied environments from hot and humid rainforest to dry savanna have led to its current state. 

As I pack up my goods I realize that this guitar is no more than a sentimental piece of wood for me. I haven't played it in years and it's not in a playable state so I will say good bye to this guitar when I leave Tanzania. I want to maybe cut out a small keepsake, carve a piece of the wood into something so the memory of the guitar can live on 

On the right, signs of rocking from having no pick guard. One the left, signs of sweat and grime from my arm!

 

Lots of curious onlookers in India

In Jamaica there were dancehall beats and freestyles

In China I took our student group to the wrong train station in Beijing and we missed our train. I don't remember exactly what went down but the guitar came out and we started a party