Deepstep Rocks the Country Club - Atlanta Country and Western Bars

Deepstep Rocks the Country Club - Atlanta Country andWestern Bars

It's taken me more than two years since I first heard of this place, but I'm finally here at the CountryClub in Augusta. Even with the address in hand and a Google map printout, I almost missed theplace, tucked in an old shopping center behind a Hooter's on Washington Road. The signs are faded,so it doesn't show up well while the sun's setting on a Saturday evening.

The policewoman at the door checks my ID(a move always appreciated, although at myage, I doubt they think I'm under-age). I paymy $5 cover charge - accompanied by achorus of "honey" and "darlin'" and anapology that I have to pay extra becausethere's a live band tonight - and walk inside.It's a typical cowboy-themed honky tonk:wooden walls, a wooden fence around thepolished dance floor, three bars and the

typical Western motif touches on the walls.

It's 8:15 and weekend dance lessons are still in progress. Less than 20 folks are on the floor - mostlywomen, mostly 40s to 60s, but all trying to learn the steps through all the repetitions. I hunt for myfirst beer of the evening. The bartender says it's $3 for a Miller Lite (luv that!), but cash onlybecause she doesn't have change or a credit card yet. So I take my first frosty bottle of the night andtake a position along the rail next to the dance floor, close to the where the band is tuning theirinstruments. After the lesson ends, the Electric Slide brings out the jail bait.

Like most places, it's still early here, but Ilike to come in before the crowds so I cancheck out the setting and get a feeling forthe mood of the place. There's maybe 50people here and lots of tables, but morefolks are filing in as show timeapproaches. There must be a promtonight; limos pull up outside, and pimplyboys in tuxes and blonds in sundressespile in. (Aren't they too young for this?)But the crowd is mostly hairless GIs fromnearby Fort Gordon or big ole Georgiaboys, all sharing tables with their ladies.

The band is called Deepstep (named for the town in Washington County that some of them callhome, I learned later), and their repertoire is amazing. They open with "Honky Tonk Woman" and gostraight into "The Race Is On." Any band that can open with Stones and Jones is all right with me.There's a bluesy version of Conway Twitty's "Goodbye Time" that really blows me away. The girls inprom dresses crowd the stage for "Redneck Girl" and "Little More Country than That." An older baldguy with a Confederate battle flag for a shirt comes out for the oldies. But everyone in the CountryClub - which is standing room only by 11:00 - finds something they can dance to.

Everyone except me. I've made the fatal mistake of coming without a dance partner, and this place ispacked with couples - college kids, GIs or big bubbas who I'm not going to cross. I usually comehonky tonkin' with a crowd but it's worked out that none of my usual Honky Tonk Angels can join metonight.

When the band takes a break, I hit the wall. I'd love to stay, but I've been on the road in Arkansasand now Augusta for seven days, and I'm exhausted. And a little lonely. Even with a friend inLouisiana emailing me and another sending Facebook messages while she huddles in the bathroomto avoid tornadoes, it hits me that I'm the only one here solo. So I head back to the motel for somemuch-needed rest.

But I'll be back to Augusta later this summer - and I'm giving notice now to my friend across theriver in Edgefield, S.C., and my new acquaintance from the next morning that my third trip toAugusta is 2010 will not pass without us dancing at the Country Club!

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