Sky’s first Dead show was in 1987 at Red Rocks and for many years after, she traveled around this diverse country as a Deadhead, living on a bus and traveling to Dead shows, Rainbow Gatherings and other festivals. She made her living by sewing and selling homemade hats. In between tours her and her bus mates would live in the woods, creating art and living a magical, but in many ways challenging (aka hungry), life of whimsical freedom. 

Always a sentimental soul, Sky saved most images, artworks, scraps, letters, and other random items from that time. After a serious injury kept her homebound for an extended period of time, Sky began organizing her work and writing down her memories. She quickly realized she had a treasure trove of images and stories that captured a rarely seen side of this underground culture. 

Being a huge fan of The Family Acid, Sky recognized that her collection would work well in the same format—and Dead Narratives was born. In order to support the project, Sky has returned to creating hand-sewn hats and other Grateful Dead inspired artworks, which can be seen in the Dead Narratives Shop. 

With so much more content still to publish, Dead Narratives is an ongoing homage to every Deadhead who has ever known the freedom and joy of a Grateful Dead show and those who love the music.

Stay tuned for the adventures to come!

Before 2018 Dead & Co Summer Tour started, I received several messages from young Heads asking how I survived on the road back in the day. I loved getting these messages and passing on road survival tips to the next generation. Here are a few key ones... 

• Don't expect to eat 3 times a day. Or shower on a regular basis. 

• It’s imperative to have something to sell or trade with. I learned that lesson early on and started to sew hats. While I was traveling on Abby Van, Shona and Uncle Stinky would wrap crystal necklaces and I would sew my hats. We would sell these where we could—Dead shows, music festivals, rest areas, and the local sidewalk corner. 

• People who didn't have anything to sell would be put on spare change duty… they would offer to wash people windshields for $ or simply beg on the corner. 

• When pulling into a town we would look for the flower shops in order to dumpster dive old flowers and then try to exchange them for spare change while spare changing. 

• We would also dumpster dive for food. A LOT. If things were bad we visited the local food shelter to stock up.

• We would always carry an extra gas can and at gas stations ask people if they could round up a dollar’s worth of gas into our tank. (You would be amazed how many people would do this—and throw in extra ½ gallon.)

• It was different on the Greenhouse bus because we were way less mobile, the bus ran on propane and got 4 miles to a gallon so we had to be strategic before running around town. We dumpster dove and visited food shelters a lot more. I was much more prolific with my hats by then and Joppa started sewing too. We would stay in one place longer and the locals would get to know us and we would trade with them.

• We tried to never travel with anything illegal as we were ALWAYS getting pulled over and searched.

• Expect to get the stink-eye and be told to scram on a semi-regular basis. 

• And on the other hand, at every turn—often when we were completely beat down and hungry—a total stranger would walk up and just hand us money or bring us groceries. It was beautiful and would usually be the difference between eating that day or not. There are so many kind people in the world. 

• And lastly, trust your instincts. My intuition was my best friend on the road.

The Bus. It’s looking pretty rough here but this is the best photo I have of it. It is funny that for all the photos I took I only have a couple of the bus, and not a single one from when it was in its prime.

It was called the Greenhouse Bus. It was a converted ¾ length old Army Bus that Joe built it with his own two hands. You cannot see it because it it covered in tarps, but the middle roof and side are built with open bars, like a cage. Over that lay frosted swimming pool plastic, so the ceiling let the light in… it was like being in a greenhouse. On the sides there was heavy canvas over the bars, which could be lifted and lowered as needed. When the canvas was lifted, it was like being in an open air cage, and we could drive that way, which was a trip!
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There was a six burner wood stove on board, that used to belong to Rita Hayworth and Orson Welles as the story goes. Joe owned a junkyard in Big Sur for several decades, which is where he built the bus. Anyway, it was a beautiful stove, but we had to be very careful because the bus ran on propane.

There was a loft that could sleep four people comfortably, and you climbed up a built-in ladder to get up there. A sun roof was over the loft, which you could stick your head out of, although you had to be careful of wires and branches if driving. There was a kitchen area, with a sink and counter, and large shelves in the back area that opened up for storage and doubled as beds.
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And there were so many little details that cannot be written down. I have a reoccuring dream that I am in the woods and I come across the bus in pristine condition. Inside it is clean, with candles lit and the tarp sides open to let the breeze in, with the last of the evening light filtering through the ceiling. The huge wood stove is blazing and the evening meal cooking on it. Someone is playing guitar up in the loft. I am filled with joy to see it again, to be in its space and soak up its energy… full of mystical adventures and esoteric stories.
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And then I wake up and it becomes just fading memories again. It seems like all this life was just a dream...