It’s a random Friday, Saturday, or Sunday—one of the many “weekend days” I spend away from home (all but four or five a year, in fact). I usually wake up around 9:30 or 10:00 AM. The sound of the engine is either completely gone, replaced by the low hum of the generator, or the bus (coach) engine is still running, meaning we’re still moving. Alternatively, we’re stopped, but something isn’t working right with the generator, so we’re relying on the coach’s built-in air conditioning.
For context: a typical coach has two air conditioning systems. One is built into the vehicle itself, and the other is powered by a generator that supplies electricity to the rooftop units.
If the bus is still moving, I know we’re not far from the venue. Most appearances are scheduled for 6:00 or 7:00 PM, and our “report time”—when setup begins—is about four hours prior. That varies a bit from artist to artist, but for us on the Tribute Quartet bus, the start of the day is pretty routine.
First, I check my phone. Along with the time, I look for any urgent texts—especially from my wife. Then begins my daily dialogue with the Lord. I pull back the curtain and climb down from my top bunk, which is one of three stacked on the driver’s side of the coach. The layout of most buses looks something like this (front to back): the Driver’s Area, the Front Lounge (a combo living room/kitchenette), the Bunk Area (with doors at both ends—when closed and with the lights off, it can feel like 2:00 AM at 2:00 PM), and finally, the Back Lounge. The location of the bathroom(s) varies by coach.
Nine times out of ten, when I open the door to the Front Lounge, Gus Gaches is already up and has a pot of coffee brewing. I say “Good morning” and start my day. Now, I love coffee—but I don’t drink much of it. Not because it hypes me up, but because it can make me jittery and irritable. I’m not a fan of either. So, I’ll usually opt for hot tea or make a healthy hot cacao concoction of my own (I’ll spare you the details).
When we park, it’s typically in one of three places: a Walmart (lots of space to park and always a reason to go inside), a truck stop (if there’s no Walmart nearby), or directly at the venue. If the weather’s good and we’re not in the middle of nowhere, I’ll find a brunch or lunch spot nearby just to get a walk in—and I really enjoy those walks.
Whether I walk or not, I often pop in my headphones and listen to Scripture or sermons I’ve missed. It’s also when much of my heart-to-heart time with the Lord happens.
Now, people often assume—because I love what I do and express myself freely—that I’m this infinite ball of wild, chaotic energy. They imagine me as loud, obnoxious, mischievous, and even a little unsettling. But here’s the truth:
Loud: Fair. My voice carries, and I’ve been known to be a bit of a bull in a china shop.
Obnoxious: Nope. I don’t have the bandwidth—I’m too busy silencing the voices in my head to be a bother to anyone else.
Mischievous: Not really. I hate consequences too much to be mischievous. Besides, I’m not that creative.
Unsettling: If anything, I might be the most boring person you’ve ever met.
Now, I know what you’re thinking—“Do you guys even have fun?” The answer is: Absolutely! If I had to describe the Tribute Quartet bus in one word, it would be fun. We truly have a blast—it’s one of the best buses to be on! But yes, we also have daily routines and the usual quirks. To pretend otherwise would be… odd.
Gary often jokes from the platform: “He wakes up that way and goes to bed that way.” And he’s right—I genuinely enjoy what I do!
If I don’t go for a walk, I usually spend my time eating something, replying to emails, texts, and calls, creating social media content, or working on outside production projects. Gary or Branson (our sound engineer) is usually the next one up. Branson tends to stay quiet and keeps to himself. Gary and Gus will chat about everything under the sun. Unless it turns into a brainstorming session for new ideas, I’ll usually stay focused on work.
By the time “report time” arrives—if we aren’t already at the venue—we’re all hands on deck, ready to go.
After an evening spent with some of the greatest people on the planet, the trailer is loaded, and depending on the circumstances, we may or may not grab food. We often sit in the lounge to chat about the night. I’ll usually wrap up any work I started earlier, and by 11 or midnight, I climb into my top bunk, close the curtain, shut off the light, and fall asleep within five minutes.
That’s a typical day on the road with Tribute Quartet—from my perspective.
Thank you, Josh, for sharing your road perspective with us this month — stay tuned for the next installment as we keep rolling through the stories behind the miles. ■
