What I Pack for Tour

After six tours I have got packing down to one suitcase and one guitar. It took a while. On my first tour I brought two giant duffel bags, a backpack, a garment bag with three stage outfits I never wore and a box of vinyl that took up half the trunk. By the third week I had mailed most of it home from a post office in Kansas City. Every tour since, the pile has gotten smaller, and the shows have gotten better.

Here is the list, and the reasoning behind it. If you are heading out on your first run of shows, or just packing for a long road trip with an instrument, I hope it saves you a few headaches and at least one trip to the post office.

The rule of one bag

Every item in my suitcase has to earn its place. On tour you are loading and unloading constantly: into the van, into the venue, into a motel, back into the van. Anything you carry more than twice a day needs to be worth the effort. If I did not use something on the last tour, it stays home on the next one.

My suitcase is a medium-size carry-on with soft sides, so it squeezes into tight spaces in the back of a van. Inside, I use a few zip pouches to keep things organized: one for cables and small gear, one for toiletries, one for the voice kit and one for clothes that need washing. Packing cubes might sound fussy, but at 1 a.m. in a dark parking lot you will thank yourself.

For the guitar

Two sets of strings, a capo, a tuner and a cloth. That is the core, and it fits in the small pocket of my guitar case. I change strings about every five or six shows, more often in humid places like New Orleans or Savannah, so on a long tour I restock along the way at local music shops. It is also a nice excuse to meet people in each town.

Beyond the basics, a few small extras live in my cable pouch:

• A spare instrument cable, because the venue’s cable will crackle at the worst possible moment.
• A string winder and small clippers, which make changing strings in a green room much faster.
• A humidifier pouch for the guitar in dry winter months and high desert towns.
• A few picks, even though I play mostly with my fingers. Someone always asks.
• A small screwdriver and a roll of gaffer tape, which can fix almost anything for one night.

The guitar itself rides in a hard case, always. Soft gig bags are lighter, but vans are rough on instruments, and I have seen what happens when a speaker cabinet slides into an unprotected guitar on a sharp turn.

Pack light, sleep well, sing every night like it’s the only one.

Juno

For the voice

Ginger tea, honey and a scarf for cold venues. My voice is the one instrument I cannot replace at a music shop, so I protect it like it is fragile, because it is. Twenty shows in a month will wear down even a strong voice if you are careless.

I carry a box of ginger tea bags and a small squeeze bottle of honey, and I make a cup before every soundcheck and after every show. Most venues have hot water somewhere, and if they do not, a gas station usually does. The scarf is for the green rooms and backstage hallways that are always mysteriously ten degrees colder than the stage. I keep my neck warm until the moment I walk out.

I am not a doctor, and every singer’s voice is different, so if you are having real trouble, see a professional. But the basics that work for me are simple: drink lots of water, sleep as much as I can, skip yelling over loud bars after the show and rest my voice completely on days off.

Clothes and everything else

Clothes take up the least thought and, honestly, the least space. I pack for about seven days and do laundry once a week, usually at a laundromat in whatever town we are in on a day off. I stick to a simple color scheme, mostly black and dark denim, so everything goes with everything and nothing shows coffee stains under stage lights.

Two pairs of shoes: comfortable sneakers for driving and walking, and one pair of boots for the stage. A warm layer, a rain jacket, a hat. That is it.

The rest of the bag holds small comforts that make a long tour feel human:

1. A paperback book, for long drives and quiet mornings away from screens.
2. A small notebook, for lyrics, set lists and the names of people I meet.
3. A refillable water bottle, because dehydration sneaks up on you on the road.
4. A sleep mask, for motel curtains that never quite close.
5. A phone charger with a long cable, since outlets are always on the wrong side of the bed.

The list

If I could only take five small things, beyond the guitar itself, these would be the ones. They live by the door at home, ready to go, and they are the first things I check before we leave.

• Spare strings
• Capo and tuner
• Ginger tea
• A good scarf
• Earplugs

Earplugs might seem like an odd addition to a singer-songwriter’s bag, but they might be the most important thing on the list. I use high-fidelity musician earplugs during loud opening sets, in noisy bars and sometimes in a snoring bandmate’s motel room. Hearing does not grow back. Protect it.

Key takeaway: pack for function, not for every possibility. Most towns have a store, but nobody sells you a second chance at a lost voice or damaged hearing.

What I stopped packing

It is just as useful to know what to leave behind. After six tours, here is what no longer makes the trip. Extra stage outfits, because nobody remembers what you wore on night twelve. A laptop, since my phone handles email and set lists. Big bottles of anything, because travel sizes refill easily in any town. Backup pedals and gadgets I never actually use on an acoustic set. And the box of merch I used to carry in my own luggage, which now ships ahead to a few key venues instead.

Every one of those cuts made load-in a little faster and the van a little roomier. More importantly, each one removed a small worry. When you only have one bag, you always know where everything is, and you never have to dig through a mountain of clothes in a dark motel parking lot looking for your capo.

Packing light, playing better

There is something freeing about living out of one bag for a month. You stop worrying about stuff and start paying attention to the places you pass through, the people who come to the shows and the songs you are singing every night. Every tour, I try to bring a little less and notice a little more. Next spring, I am aiming to leave the extra hat at home. We will see if I can manage it.