Adam Clayton kept a tour diary in early 1982 and provided extracts to Hot Press magazine
Hot Press, August 14, 1982
February 14th Valentine's Day
Today is St. Valentine's Day and where is my Valentine? On the drive from Austin to San Antonio we stopped off at a snake farm/amateur zoo. It was very depressing. Lots of caged animals not looking very healthy. The high point was a mad monkey which had epileptic fits accompanied by blood-chilling shrieks. It was really quite a scream because Bono started singing. This infuriated the creature even further -- its shrieks grew louder. Bono matched its volume until the deranged creature started to beat his head against the wall. Eventually a very brusque woman ran over and dismissed us, complaining how cruel it was to drink sodas in front of our friend as there was nothing it liked more than a glass of Coke.
On to the gig. During the show, Bono handed out flowers to girls. Wish I'd done that. He's got friends for life. Afterwards we spent a long time with the punters. The Texans are a nice simple people, consequently conversation lasted long. 3.15 a.m. back to the hotel via the Alamo, which received the dubious accolade of consecration with Ozzy Osbourne's urine.
Fort Apache, The Bronx was on the HBO cable. Great film and Paul Newman's best performance in years.
Friday
Up too early with everyone looking wrecked. Arrive in Denver and Edge discovers a ski resort 50 miles up country. The four of us head off. It had to be hushed up as a broken leg at this stage of the tour would not be welcome. Stories were fabricated and changed so that no one had any idea where we were. It was a lovely drive through the Rockies to the resort. Once there, Edge organises the activities, as he is the experienced amateur. We get our skis on and Bono falls over immediately. We potter about on the nursery slopes under Edge's instructions. I eventually feel confident enough to try my luck on the mountain. I wish I hadn't. I've never been so frightened in all my life. To reach the top of the mountain we have to hang on chair lift, hundreds of feet above the ground with no safety bar. I was so hysterical I would have gladly thrown myself off had Edge not kept me talking.
At the top it soon becomes obvious that I had been over optimistic. I tell Edge to go off and enjoy himself, I'll walk down. The mountain very nearly claimed me. Edge goes up and down twice in the time it takes me to walk. Then he did a black slope. As you might know black slopes are very serious. And then some, like black holes and black belts. We retire to the bar for the only bit of ski I like -- apres ski and Gluewein. We make the mistake of ordering Irish Coffees, which are barely coffee and certainly not Irish. The cream comes from one of those aerosol jobs and there's a nasty green mint liqueur to boot. Once back in the hotel we decide to go and see Reds. It's a good film but I felt it lost its punch in places, but maybe that's because I was so tired.
I love the way he writes.
