Just the fact that I am on a plane headed for Houston right now tells you all you need to know about this band.

I am a fan. One of tens of thousands. I’ve purchased about 15 of the 1 million albums that have been sold. Yet right now I’m 37,000 feet above middle America on their dime. And not only are they financing my dreams, they’re the ones dreaming them for me.

This was not my idea. This was way out of my league, even for a dreamer like me. Traveling to a third world country with the band I’ve devoted hundreds of hours to over the past 7 years to experience the creation of their next record? That’s the kind of dream you wake up from at 3am, laugh at yourself, and go back to bed.

But no matter how many times I pinch myself, the view doesn’t change. Wispy clouds, blue sky, and the occasional winding river.

I’m not in bed, I’m in a 737.

I’m not sleeping, I’m wide awake.

This isn’t just any band, this is Caedmon’s Call. (–> Day 2)