You wander into the farmers’ market, boots a little muddy, your jeans so far from their last wash they’ve forgotten that Tide isn’t just something that happens to the ocean, and a feeling of serenity comes over you. You didn’t shower this morning, but who cares? It’s Sunday and you’re here, back where you belong, at your neighborhood farmers’ market.

Perusing the tent stands, you test the ripeness and texture of produce, sniff at things, chat with vendors, laugh bemusedly when genius Border Collies and mutts alike invade your space. Being here, among the farmers and the jam-makers, the hawkers of embroidered leather garments and hand-carved, natural wood servingware, is as familiar and welcoming as that time-softened flannel shirt you’re wearing.

Yet on this morning, something new is going on. There is music. Actual, performed music, not simply the music of two hundred adults and children half-shopping, half-at-work and half-at-play. You round the corner into the next alley of tents and see two folk singers performing a song you don’t recognize, but which brings a smile to your face nonetheless.

Meet Coco & Lafe (pronounced as in ‘waif’). Two friends who have shared the better part of a lifetime and who, nearing retirement age, opted to embark on a musical adventure that would take them back and forth across the country for the past 3 years, performing covers and originals everywhere from the sidewalks of Boston to private house parties in Southern California.

Coco Kallis, a lifelong performer who has worked with top folk talents as both a backup singer and songwriter, sways pleasantly from side-to-side, tapping the tambourine against her leg. Lafe Dutton, his spindly form almost obscured behind his acoustic guitar and the harmonica holder around his neck, croons into the microphone. A small crowd has gathered and some seem to have lost interest entirely in the farmers’ market itself.

Coco Kallis & Lafe Dutton

Coco & Lafe just wrapped up their Get Fresh Tour, where they performed at 100 farmers’ markets  from coast-to-coast. They play standard folk and country covers and have also found success with original tunes such as “I Love You More,” “Let’s Get Away” and “Endless Fishes.” Their fan base is growing and their brand of down-home, fun-loving performance and sound has been recognized on nationally syndicated folk radio programs such as Rich Warren’s “Midnight Special.” I caught up with the troubadouring duet in Tucson, Arizona at the Santa Cruz River Farmers’ Market, where they had a small crowd singing or nodding along to the beat. Their fifth studio album, entitled “Big Bang,” will be out soon.

As fellow road huggers, we had plenty to talk about, including traveling with canine companionship. Their beagle, Lilla, is the official tour manager.

HTR: Okay, before I ask the superfluous stuff, let’s cover the essentials. Being on the road with a dog is tough, isn’t it?

C&L: Yeah. There can be drawbacks. Finding lodging takes more research and is usually more expensive. We can’t leave Lilla in the car when it’s hot. Since we follow the harvest playing farmers’ markets, it’s always hot! But we always travel with our dog. If they don’t take dogs, we don’t take the gig. I’m trying to get her certified as a “service” dog so everyone has to allow her presence. She can tell when we sing out of tune: that’s service!

HTR: Funny. My dog can’t even do that. Or maybe he can, but he just keeps it to himself.

C&L: And people often tip Lilla directly at farmers’ markets. One person went to a store and bought a 5 pound bag of dog food. I guess they thought we were begging. Didn’t realize we had a 3 thousand dollar sound system and I was playing on a 4 thousand dollar guitar.

HTR: What would you say is the most scenic farmers’ market in the country?

C&L: Woodland Park, Colorado. Hands down. We stood in a forest of evergreens, surrounded by 80 or 100 vendors at 8,400 feet facing Pike’s Peak: 14,400 feet of looming, forested beauty. We also played this gorgeously crazy one in Kennebunkport, Maine. Vendors were arranged in squares within one large square, the open street running through the market. Tomato tasting on three long tables with a beautiful presentation and always a line, benches for people to sit on and listen to the music. Like one big drive-through restaurant.

HTR: What’s the most memorable stretch of road in America you’ve encountered?

C&L: Asking that is like asking who has the most memorable face. There isn’t just one. That said: Santa Fe to Taos in New Mexico you travel through 70 miles with canyon walls on both sides of you and the river below. We did it at sunrise on the way to Taos Farmers’ Market. Also, Durango and Wolf Creek Pass in Colorado. But I’m also partial to any dirt road in Vermont. And, of course, route 1 in California through Big Sur.

HTR: Yeah, that last one is something. What’s it feel like when you reach the coast again after a long haul?

C&L: Awe. Excitement. Giddiness. Laughter. Satisfaction. I have a couple pictures of Coco on the Atlantic beach and a celebration lobster dinner at a seaside cottage. We can die happy with memories like that.

HTR: Are there other countries’ coasts you find equally awe-inspiring?

C&L: Mexico. And Scotland. Coco likes Scotland the best. If we’re not talking America, that is.

HTR: What is it about hitting the road? I mean, what is it that makes it so…

C&L: Heavenly?

HTR: Yes.

C&L: Like sex, it’s a combination of factors. Being in the moment. Totally present. You’ve given up all external responsibilities: no appointments, no shoulds, no to-do’s. You’ve surrendered the busy mind to one activity; relax and enjoy, or explore and adventure. There’s a feeling of freedom. You can Zen in and out. Feel without thinking, be surprised by the unexpected: other travelers, wildlife, calendar art in the landscapes, the mysteries of the next town, the rock or roadside picnic table that begs a visit with our without a guitar or harmonica.

HTR: I don’t think I could’ve put that any better myself.