DAY 5
Nashville fiddle camp is over, for good. Mark will still hold his strings conference in NYC and at UCLA, but the Nash version is caput. I have to say that I’ll miss it quite dearly. It was such a beautiful outdoors environment in which you could lose yourself to all things fiddle. Sure, there were chiggers and ticks and the air was thick with moisture and heat, but you don’t really care or notice. Sure, your fingers stick together, your glasses are sliding off your face, and you hope for the best when shifting, but we are all suffering the same perils of the fiddle. Sure, you can’t remember how that tune starts, or you just don’t know that tune, but there’s someone here who does and is more than willing to share.
Fiddle camp really exists, people. I invite you to crash one sometime. Your life will never be the same…
Casey’s Camp Jam Hour
Devil’s Dream (A)![]()
Sweet Georgia Brown (G)![]()
Irish Washerwoman (G)![]()
Cripple Creek (A)![]()
Arkansas Traveller (D)![]()
Angelina Baker (D)![]()
• This is the only tune we repeated. It’s a great simple standard for all…a fine way to close our our camp jam.


