Deserts can have great beauty. The Burning Man festival is fortunate to be located in the remote Black Rock Desert of northwestern Nevada where it is surrounded by dramatic mountain scenery.
Situated on a flat playa that stretches out for over 100 miles, Burning Man is dwarfed by surrounding mountains and a vast, flat, desert floor. Once, the playa was filled with a huge, glacier fed lake that was over 500 feet deep. Wooly mammoths and Native Americans lived on its shore and called it home. Like other Great Basin Lakes, there were no outlets. Water that flowed into the lake stayed there and sediments carried in from the surrounding mountains sank to the bottom. As the climate changed, becoming hotter and drier, the lake dried up and the sediments became the base for today’s Playa.
By the 1840s and 50s pioneers and gold seekers from the young United States of America made their first forays into the desert heading for the goldfields of Northern California and Southern Oregon. The Applegate brothers created a trail through the Black Rock Desert that bears their name. I live in the Applegate Valley of Oregon beside the Applegate River, all named for the family. I also have family connections. Applegates and Mekemsons intermarried in the early 1800s.
Today, I am going to post several photos that place Burning Man in its Black Rock Desert surroundings.
I like this photo because it emphasizes how flat the Playa is. You can barely see the fence that marks the outer boundary of Burning Man. Art can be found even in this remote section but it takes a bit of effort to get there. The flat playa has enabled some land speed records to be set here. It has also provided a good base for launching rockets.Of course, I like to spend time out there given my love of wide open spaces, desire to escape the crowds, and interest in the art. Here I am on the outside looking in. It was shortly after this that the Black Rock Rangers, the Border Patrol of BMO, came roaring over in an official truck. I hopped the fence and zoomed off on my bike. (Photograph by Peggy Mekemson.)The Border Patrol is wise to be vigilant on the outer edges of Burning Man, however. Aliens are known to hang out there.Some even resemble cats. This doesn’t surprise me. I’ve always thought that cats have a taint of alien blood. It may be more than a taint. Have you ever found your cat staring at you in a strange way and wondered what alien thoughts were passing through its mind?Another perspective. Note the rain clouds. The Black Rock Desert receives less than 10 inches a year, which is the definition of a desert. At times, it seems like the majority falls during Burning Man! All traffic is stopped. A thick, caky mud clings to vehicle tires, bike tires and shoes. A small garbage bag worn on the shoes helps feet avoid the worst of it.We’ve seen some spectacular rainbows accompany the storms.Another example.My friend, Ken Lake, caught a photo of this double rainbow hanging over Black Rock City.The first rays of the morning sun touch the mountains surrounding Burning Man. Early morning and evening are the best time to photograph the scenery.A few minutes later.This sunrise photo is an example of how the large event is dwarfed by its surroundings.Another example.The sun sinks into the west, signifying that life at Burning Man is about to be seriously ramped upward. While many Burners think party as night approaches, others pause to enjoy the beauty.And beauty there is.As the sun sets, the moon rises.With a beauty and drama of its own. (Photo by Don Green.)I’ll conclude with this photo of the moon hidden by the clouds— a contrast in light and dark.
NEXT POST: I was reading Walter Isaacson’s book on Leonardo Da Vinci this morning and Isaacson was discussing how incredibly observant Da Vinci was. This led me to look up at our house from a slightly different perspective. I was struck by some of the weird things we collect and decided it would make a fun post. The next post: A Home Full of Whimsy… What’s in your House?
I drove into the Pleasant Valley Campground near Tillamook, Oregon and there were bunnies everywhere, including this magnificent creature.
With Easter having arrived, I couldn’t resist re-blogging/modifying a post I did on some really cute bunnies a while back.
I had stopped over in Tillamook, Oregon to visit the cheese factory. It sends out tons of the stuff annually. I assume all over the world. I watched women whip around 50 pound blocks of cheese like they had been working out with Arnold Schwarzenegger. This made me hungry, so I ordered a sample plate of Tillamook ice cream. Bad idea. It’s really good. I mean really, really good. But eating all of those calories made me tired. It was time to find a campground.
And this is where the bunnies came in. I pulled into Pleasant Valley Campground, a few miles south of Tillamook, and was greeted by (drum roll please) RABBITS, dozens of them. There were black ones, and brown ones, and white ones, all of whom seemed to be chasing each other around in a glorious romp to make more bunnies. After all, isn’t that what rabbits do beside deliver Easter eggs?
Ignoring the obvious, for the moment, I asked the owner where all the rabbits came from. “Oh they used to live across the street,” she informed me. “One day, a few moved over here. They didn’t do any harm and the campers seemed to like them. So I let them stay.” The rest is history, as they say. Anyway, here are some photos I took of the rabbits. Enjoy.
I am going for the “awww” factor with this baby bunny.
This was only a few of the rabbits, but it makes the point.
This furry gal was napping when I snuck up on her, but then, her eyes popped open…
And she was all wiggly ears and twitchy nose.
It rained hard that night. I discovered I had several rabbits using my van as shelter. The step is my doorstep. My flashlight caught their eyes. Scary. Was it a case of when good bunnies go bad?
Nah. I’ll finish off with another baby bunny. It was cold out and this tyke looks cold. I almost invited it into my van to warm up.
I don’t know how many of these bunnies participate in delivering Easter Eggs, but any of them would be welcomed here! A very Happy Easter to our friends throughout the blogging world— Curt and Peggy
The point about wandering through Black Rock City is that you never know what you are going to find, such as a goat with purple hair wearing a sagging tutu and a bear necklace.
I spend the majority of my ‘out and about’ time at Burning Man on the Playa. That’s where the major art pieces are displayed, and seeing them is my primary reason for going to the event. Some, I return to several times to admire and photograph in different light. And there is night, where they take on a totally different personality.
Peggy and I always reserve a day for walking around Black Rock City, however. The same creativity found in the creation of art, mutant vehicles, and major camps is found in BRC as well. In fact, you never know what you will find, such as the goat above. In addition to the fun and curious, there are things to do, food to eat, more art, and camps to admire. People watching is also fun, as it is out on the Playa and at the Center Camp cafe.
I’ll let today’s photos reflect our walks over the years. Most of them were taken by Peggy and me, but some were taken by the two other photographers in our camp, Tom Lovering and Don Green.
Joy riding isn’t encouraged at Burning Man. This was an exception. (Photo by Don Green.)Safety on bikes is critical with 60,000 or so running around in BRC and out on the Playa. Bike crashes do happen, however, and it’s amazing there aren’t more. One year, bikers were invited to crash into empty boxes on the Esplanade.This guy welcomed Peggy and me with open arms..This fellow, not so much.And this creature stuck its tongue out at us. Looking at it now, I’m sorry I didn’t pose Peggy sticking her tongue back out at it.Hungry? The PB&J camp had a solution. Lots of peanut butter, several different types of jam, and bread! It was all free and is an example of Burning Man’s gifting philosophy.A close up.The Kentucky camp developed a Kentucky Fried Chicken theme one year and offered fried baloney sandwiches with a shot of bourbon— for breakfast. That woke me up…Restrooms, as it turns out, are a major focus at Burning Man. The reason: the restrooms are the modern version of an outhouse, the porta-potty. If you have ever used one, you know they are not the epitome of having a pleasant bathroom experience. There are banks and banks of toilets, hundreds of them. This is a view of the back side.Veteran Burners wait until they are cleaned. A whole fleet of trucks is kept busy.Another view. You want to camp close enough to the porta potties for convenience, but not too close!Humor is the best approach when it comes to outhouses. There was actually a bowling alley set up next to the toilets! As I remember, I rolled a strike.I’ll drink to that!In addition to large trucks running around emptying the toilets, water trucks are constantly watering down the roads to reduce the dust. Nothing stops the dust storms, however. One’s coming. Burners used to run along behind the trucks getting their daily bath and washing their clothes at the same time, assuming they wore clothes. I saw more than one naked person running by, giving a new meaning to streaking. Today, Burning Man claims the water is recycled from sewer operations, effectively putting a stop to the showers.Lest you think that Burning Man is a lawless party in the desert, there are police everywhere including the feds, DEA, state police, BLM rangers, and local sheriffs’ departments. It’s best to behave yourself!I am assuming that Burning Man is not a favorite event of the present administration in Washington, although Ivanka reputedly has a Burning Man photo in her office. Let me report, however, in my 11 years at Burning Man, I have never once seen an illegal alien cross over. I did once, however. How could I not, given Burning Man’s iron clad rule that no-one is to cross the barrier. Within seconds an official BMO truck was bearing down on me. A Black Rock Ranger yelled at my departing back: Do Not Cross the Fence! Be that as it may, bear with me and I will move on to more officially acceptable Burning Man activity you can see when you walk around BRC.Such as stacking blocks.Or playing a trumpet in drag…Or getting married on top of a bus…Or checking out Burning Man in a hot air balloon…Or riding a fish…Or having a free nipple covering business. Pastie Dan is close to a legend at Burning Man.Or checking out a Barbie Doll camp.Or reading the messages on a large birdhouse. Most had to do with being forgiven for something. Burners, apparently, have lots of regrets. Or wondering why the grinning dinosaur bit the woman’s head off.It’s hard to get bored at Burning Man, but if you do, there’s always a lending library of some type or other around. Books are free and there is never a requirement that you bring them back.The book mobile.Checking out people’s homes is an honored activity just about anywhere. Apparently, it was moving day for this Burner. You don’t have to be a large camp to have an interesting residence, even if it is only for a week. This gypsy type home was right across the road from us one year.And last, but not least, is Zsu Zsu’s Home. There was a suggestion on the side that you might want to give her a kiss. (Photo by Tom Lovering.)
NEXT POST: A look at the Black Rock Desert, home to Burning Man and Black Rock City.
A view of Black Rock City looking across the Center Camp Cafe at the distant mountains. The 70,000 plus people who arrive here for Burning Man each year make the city the third largest city in Nevada for its one week of existence.
Black Rock City is laid out using a semi-circular grid system. The main roads are numbered and are oriented toward the Man, which is at the center of Burning Man. The circular roads are in alphabetical order with names based on the theme of the year. Say the theme was Wildlife, A street might be Aardvark, B street Baboon, etc.
A view of how Black Rock City (BRC) is laid out. The X in the center is the Man. The small circle above it is where the Burning Man Temple is located. The large circle below the Man is Center Camp and the smaller circle within it is the Center Camp Cafe. The Esplanade, where most of the larger camps are located, provides the boundary between BRC and the Playa. The length of the scale below is 5,000 feet, close to a mile. We normally camp between 5th and 7th Avenues, 7-9 blocks out from Center Camp.
The well laid out street system makes it easy to get around— in the beginning— during the day. The story changes at night when lack of light, stolen signs, liberal doses of free alcohol and mass chaos seems to rule, especially later in the week when the full 70,000 plus people are present. Then, it’s easy to get lost. Throw in a zero visibility dust storm and it is almost impossible not to. Common sense and Burning Man tell you to stay put.
I was lost for an hour once during such a storm. We had gone out to watch a burn, which was scheduled at dusk in the far reaches of the Playa near the apex of the map shown above. As the fire burned down, a huge dust storm hit, leaving Peggy, our friend Beth, and me— along with a few thousand other Burners and mutant vehicles to find our way home. It bordered on scary, made more so by large mutant vehicles appearing out of nowhere. When the storm cleared enough to get our bearings, we found we had walked in a huge circle out on the Playa. We returned to camp caked in dust and exhausted. Now, I carry a compass.
Street signs set up by Burning Man help people find their way around. This is at the corner of 6th and D. 6th runs into Center Camp and then out to the Man and the Temple.A dust devil attacks bicyclists on the Esplanade. Dust storms can range from a location specific hassle like this…… to event wide brown-outs. Our neighbors across the road, about 100 feet away, disappeared as a massive dust storm roared in accompanied by high winds.
You don’t need a dust storm to get lost, however. Here’s a story I related earlier this week in one of my comments: A young man drove up from San Francisco to Burning Man. He was a first timer, a virgin Burner eager to get out and explore. He parked his car, quickly set up camp, and headed off to play. When he returned to his camp later that night, he discovered that someone had stolen his car, his tent, his food and all of his gear. He reported his situation to the Burning Man staff and they found the unfortunate fellow a ride back to SF. End of story.
But not quite. A few days after the event, he received a call from BMO. His car, his tent, his food, and all of his gear had been found— right where he had left them. That was how lost he had been. If this seems a bit far-fetched, consider the following photos.
The week before Burning Man, this was vacant desert. A week after it will be vacant desert again. But during the event, it becomes wall to wall people. It is easy to see how someone might become confused about where they live. Think about leaving your car in a large parking lot filled with several thousand vehicles and not paying close attention to where you left it. Another view of the people clogged Black Rock City.
After the above story and photos, it might seem that it would be impossible to get away from the crowds. Actually it’s easy, assuming you are willing to head out into the Playa. Even the area surrounding the Man is relatively unoccupied unless a major event is taking place. Very few make it to the outer boundaries. Showing up early in the week or leaving late also reduces the crowds that peak on Thursday, Friday and Saturday.
Black Rock City as seen from the Man. Main avenues run out to the Man from 3 o’clock, 6 o’clock and 9 o’clock. As you can see, the number of people drop quickly, even in the more heavily trafficked part of the Playa.From far out on the Playa, Black Rock City with its crowds appears even more insignificant. Peggy, Beth and I were out here when we got caught in the dust storm. Here we are setting up the Horse Bone Camp with Quivera, our van, and Walter, Tom Lovering’s Trailer. We came early to assure we would have space in a desirable location. Within three days, this area was totally packed with tents and vehicles.Hanging out until Monday also assures that the majority of Burners will be gone. (Photo by Don Green.)I’ll conclude with this shot of the sun setting over Black Rock City on a dusty day.
NEXT POST: I’ll take you for a walk through Black Rock City.
The creativity that goes into making the mutant vehicles I have featured in my last several posts about Burning Man also goes into most other elements of of the event. For example, the Burning Man Organization, BMO, requires commercial media operations to check in and obtain credentials. BMO could put up a nondescript building for this purpose. Instead, this is what they built in 2015 to reflect that year’s theme, A Carnival of Mirrors.As I recall, the mouth opened and served as the door. I wondered if a person with a fear of clowns would go through the door.
If you have been following my Burning Man posts over the past couple of months, you now have a fair idea of what mutant vehicles look like. Today, I am moving off of the Playa and into Black Rock City, starting with a look at the structures built by large camps (villages). A camp is usually made up of people who share a common interest or background. All of these photos were taken during the 11 years I have attended the event: 2004-5-6-7-9-10-12-13-14-15 and 17. It is interesting to note that these structures are built to last one week, going up at the beginning of Burning Man and coming down at the end.
I never did find the name of this particular village, so, I called it Camp Bubbles. Note how the mutant vehicle at the right follows the camp’s white theme.The NOLA Camp recreates a bit of old New Orleans. There is even a cafe where free beignets and chicory coffee is offered to Burners.This structure provided shade for the Sacred Spaces Village at Burning Man one year.The entrance. Inside a variety of meditation options were featured.One year, a Burner who wanted to get married at Burning Man built this church for the purpose.The ceremony after the wedding. For those of you who follow the Bone story, Bone was also married in the chapel to Bonetta. Bone and the lovely Bonetta are married at Burning Man 2013.The Elvis Wedding Chapel offered an option. And no, I didn’t see Elvis wandering around Burning Man. But I wouldn’t be too surprised…Many camps build facilities that double as lounges or bars where free drinks are disbursed to Burners. This is the Shipwreck Tiki Lounge.I was particularly fond of these Teepees that were set up on the edge of the Playa along the Esplanade. The Esplanade serves as a division point between Black Rock City and the Playa. Most major camps are located along the Esplanade. Looking out from Center Camp across the Esplanade and out into the Playa.Vamp Camp was located within the city.As was the Firehouse with its burned out graffiti look.A number of camps along the Esplanade located on the outer edges of the city offer music venues, very loud music. Those are speakers. The DJ for this music venue had the nose of a 747 to spin his tunes.Celtic Chaos had a castle.Another music venue.Looking for a mystic experience? Camp Mystic is the place to be. Numerous classes were offered throughout the week.This was its mutant vehicle.This giant fellow (who may be familiar to you, except for his pink Tutu) was found lurking among the buildings. Maybe Kong was in disguise, or drag.I don’t know whose camp this was, but I liked the eagle with a large heart. Again, massive banks of speakers. I conclude with this jolly devil whose mouth provided an entry into the Kostume Kult.
NEXT POST: A view of Black Rock City outside of the large camps, out in the boonies where I lived.
If you have watched the movie Stardust like I have 20 or so times (it’s one of Peggy’s favorites), then you will be familiar with an airship. The dreaded, ‘whoopsie’ Captain Shakespeare played delightfully by Robert DeNiro used it for gathering lighting. This rendition at Burning Man was quite impressive. .
The Burning Man Organization, BMO, works hard to insure that the mutant vehicles that wander across the Playa and through Black Rock City are both creative and safe. The process starts with an application from Burners who want to bring a mutant vehicle to the annual event. A photo or detailed drawing of the vehicle must accompany the application. A committee then reviews the applications for originality and safety. Numbers are strictly limited. Burning Man is primarily a walking/bicycling event. Upon arrival the mutant vehicle must check in with the Department of Mutant Vehicles, DMV, and pass a safety inspection before receiving a license. Vehicles that shoot out fire must pass even more stringent requirements.
Here’s where the mutant vehicles have to check in upon their arrival before venturing out on to the Playa or into Black Rock City. I was amused by the infinite clearance. Some of the mutants, like the sailing ship and El Pulpo Mechanico, do reach quite high into the sky!
I am wrapping up my series on Burning Man’s mutant vehicles today. There are, after all, another 14 categories of photos from my 11 years of attending the far-out happening in Nevada’s remote Black Rock Desert. Being last, however, does not mean least. Most of these simply didn’t fit into the groups I created. Take this eye, for example.
An eyeball moving across the Playa was one of the most unique mutant vehicles I have seen.Given all of the local, state and federal law enforcement agencies that show up at Burning Man, I could’t help but wonder if Big Brother wasn’t watching us. (Not seriously, but what a clever disguise it would be.)While focusing in on body parts, this fellow seemed to have a hand out. The question: was it offering help or looking for spare change? I think I recognize him from the street corner. And what about those ears. On the other hand (so to speak), and more likely, there may be a more serious Hindu or Buddhist reference here. Or maybe it’s a Hare Krishna recruiting effort.Pucker up, sweetie. There’s a chance that this cutie wanted more than a kiss, however. There’s a good chance that she wanted your blood.Bounteous would be the description I would apply here, with a slight touch of Egypt. I’d think sphinx except for the duck up on top of her head. Or maybe its a seahorse. (Photo by Don Green.)
Well, enough on body parts, already. I’ve written a fair amount about steampunk at Burning Man, especially as it applies to mutant vehicles. Here’s a couple more.
As I recall, I found this vehicle hanging out near the rhino and the octopus. It struck me as a Capatin Nemo type vehicle.A front view.At night.The requisite gears apparently required on all steampunk vehicles.My friend Don Green captured another great example of steam punk.
Burning Man constantly throbs with the sound of heavy metal music. I always carry sound makers to reduce its impact on my beauty rest. A number of large venues are found throughout Black Rock City. Mutant vehicles carry on the tradition out on the Playa. Whenever one stops to whip out the tunes, Burners gather around to dance. There’s no question about the intention of the boom box mutant vehicle. Large speakers are another sure guarantee that loud music is about to happen.
One year, this mutant vehicle was for sale, minus its sound equipment. Tempting, I thought. But I would have turned it into a blues mobile or a jazz jalopy.There were enough speakers on this puppy to send any city council into paroxysms of angst or at least anxiety. The police chief would be called. At Burning Man, it was only a medium sized player.
With music rolling across the Playa, it’s not surprising that there was also a bar. This one was hauled by an old tractor.
You have to admit that there is a bit of old fashioned charm here. The aluminum roof reminded me of my childhood.Tom and I had to try out the bar. Potent moonshine was being offered. I stand out like a pink something or other. The barmaids came with boots and not many clothes.The mutant was more than a bar. however. The other side was a circa 1950s type kitchen. At one point, I think I remember them cooking chocolate chip cookies. But maybe that’s a memory from my childhood. Peggy is checking out the kitchen, but she wasn’t offering to cook…Maybe she needed some Crisco. Is this an example of canned entertainment?
What if Picasso made it to Burning Man. The first mutant vehicle below might be what he would create. The second would be more likely to be found among the ‘primitive’ painters who were inspired by the South Pacific and exotic tropical islands.
Definitely shades of Picasso here and other modern art themes.And here we have a Tiki God with thoughts of Polynesia. Is that a Polynesian maiden to the right? I’m pretty sure that she would capture Paul Gauguin or Rousseau’s attention.
Big things come in small packages, as the diamond merchants like to remind us, over and over.
Would it be humanly possible to cram one more thing onto this mutant ATV?A close up showed a dog…And a strange kid.
My final three…
A king who reminded me a bit of Larry Harvey, the creative genius behind Burning Man who passed away last year.A big wheeled horseless carriage. (Photo by Tom Lovering.)And the mutant vehicle I would build! It could be my office. (Photo by Tom Lovering.)
We met Jeanine (center) when we backpacked into Seiad. She had just hiked in from Castle Crags. In addition to being a PCT hiker, she is a ‘Trail Angel’ providing support to through hikers. Here, she makes Bone’s acquaintance.
The Trekker Telegraph
There were times that communication with Curt was critical. For example: Circumstances sometimes required that I change my location from where we had agreed to meet. That’s where the trekker telegraph came in handy! Curt was hiking north to south while most through-hikers were traveling south to north. This meant that the majority of hikers I met at the trailhead would pass Curt along the way. Much to my delight, I could send messages with them. They had a true appreciation of just how difficult the hike was and were more than supportive of Curt’s adventure. They were also used to sharing information with fellow hikers. (It didn’t hurt that I bribed them with apples, apple juice, fresh water, peanut butter, scones and beer.) I’d give them his card with his photo and away they would go. The more worried I was, the more hikers I gave the message to. Curt laughingly told me when he came out at Burney Falls that he had heard I was in a new location some 13 times! Good thing, since I was several miles away from where he was expecting me. Laugh all you want, Curt.
I truly enjoyed getting to know the through-hikers. I was amazed at the variety of ages, genders, nationalities, repeat trekkers, segment trekkers, first timers, and seasoned hikers. They all had stories to tell and were glad to share. They also wanted to hear about Curt. We had a sign on the back of our van that featured his adventure.
The sign on the back of our van often led curious people to ask me what the story was. These included through-hikers as well as people in campgrounds and towns along the way. Here the tale is a bit different. The photo includes our friends Tom and Leta. Tom helped Curt create the first Sierra Trek in 1974 and they have been causing mischief ever since.
More Support
The sign also drew people in at campgrounds and in the small towns where I shopped along the way. They would stop by to visit, ask questions, share personal or family stories about the PCT, and often ask how they might help out. I distributed lots of Curt’s cards.
Trail angels are people who volunteer to support trekkers by providing water, food, lodging, and transportation along the way. We met a great one in Seiad Valley. Jeanine had hiked the PCT, as had her son. She lived near Burney Falls and regularly supported through hikers on the 30-mile section south of the Falls where there wasn’t any water. She immediately offered to help Curt, becoming a friend to be cherished! I saw her again near Burney Falls where I had a fun lunch with her and her friends. Later, she and her husband joined both of us for pizza in Burney. Her information about the trail was invaluable. The lack of water combined with 105 F temperatures ultimately persuaded Curt to save the Burney section for another time, however.
Other people jumped in to help whenever help was needed. My friend Barbara and her husband Carl, long time hikers, gave us a ride to Mt. Ashland where we started the TMT. Tim and Sandra Holt in Dunsmuir, friends from Curt’s past, offered to let our nephew Jay leave his car at their home when Jay joined Curt for a 100-mile segment. My own trail angel activities paid dividends. One couple I had given a ride to, drove all the way to Sonora Pass just to check on me and to see if there was any news from Curt!
RV Angels is a new category! I made that one up but I have a few stories of campground hosts and RV Park hosts who helped me out. I was traveling without reservations for most of the trip as I needed the flexibility to be where I was needed most. The challenge was finding space. One host (in Chester) who had no open spaces heard my story, told me to wait a moment, made a call, and then returned to tell me she had a spot. That night she returned and said I could stay as long as I needed! Another host (in Burney Falls) offered her private phone number for emergencies and her private internet server so that I would have consistent service. Another host (Lake Tahoe/Truckee) squeezed me in between some big rigs and said she would find a spot for me if I needed to stay longer.
Several friendships were made. Some will continue to grow over the next few years. A favorite story is about Linda. I had just returned to Quivera (the van) and saw Linda with her quilting supplies, sewing machine, and materials spread out over the picnic table. Yes, I love quilting so, of course, I had to introduce myself and rave about her skill! Next thing I know we are sharing a glass of wine and just having a great time talking a mile a minute! She and her husband Pete were part of a local group that RV together. The men would go fishing and the women would quilt. Then all would party in the evening. Turns out she grew up in the Lassen NP area and still had a summer home. We agreed we would tackle Lassen Peak next summer. When we finally returned home in September, Linda had sent me the quilt that I had so admired. What a gem!
Then there was the homemade coconut cream pie. Jeanine and her friends had recommended a restaurant in Falls River. It was known for its coconut cream pie. Curt was excited; he loves coconut cream pie. Bad news, they were out. Good news, when the baker heard Curt’s story, she headed into the kitchen and made another pie!! Little things mean a lot. Curt claimed it was it best he has ever eaten. (I wonder if that had anything to do with eating backpacking food for weeks?)
The Falls River Hotel where Curt got his Coconut Cream Pie.
Other Thoughts
Family connections:Yes, I worried about Curt on the trail. That is who I am. Our kids were great about checking in regularly. They were also receiving the evening messages from Spot, the GPS tracker, letting them know where Curt was and that all was well. What was best, though, was that our 13-year-old grandson Ethan joined Curt for one segment and Jay, our 30-year-old nephew, joined him for another. Now I could relax. A bonus came along with Ethan. Our daughter Tasha and her other son, Cody, joined me and we were able to play for a week.
Jay and I just before he and Curt took off to hike the hundred miles to Castle Crags.Here I am with my grandsons Cody and Ethan and my daughter Tasha above Emerald Bay Lake Tahoe after Ethan had come out from his hike with Curt due to a sprained ankle.We had introduced Tasha to backpacking several years earlier. She’s shown here just north of Yosemite on a trip we were on.
Birthday at Castle Crags:Believe it or not, I have never spent my birthday alone! I LOVE birthdays and have turned mine into a day per decade celebration. So, this summer was a bit different. However, there were a few surprises. Of course, the kids called. Then I received a phone call from Jay and Curt who stopped on top of a mountain and discovered a cell signal. I had answered concerned about an emergency and was greeted by a stirring rendition of Happy Birthday to you! What fun! To celebrate, I then called our friend Sandra Holt and invited her to join me for train-car dining at the Railroad Park where the wait staff spoiled me rotten. OK, I really was not alone.
On being by myself:One afternoon I was enjoying a beautiful spot at my campsite in a forest campground about ten miles from Sonora Pass. Shaded by pine trees and enjoying incredible mountain views, I pulled out my guitar and softly sang and played my favorite folk songs (Think 60s-70s.) I noticed a father and daughter standing behind the van and listening discretely. When I picked up some artistic word searches I had been designing, the two of them approached. The father said his daughter had a question: Was the TMT sign on the van true? Yes. Then what did I do with myself each day?
It was a good question. I had never really traveled on my own in the RV. There was plenty of down time while I waited for Curt. My day included reading (lots), playing the guitar, writing a daily journal, creating artistic word searches (the daughter got quite excited about this and offered to test them for me!), following the news, keeping the RV resupplied, researching campgrounds, hiking, and supporting Curt. I used social media when I had an internet connection to keep up with friends and my responsibilities as President of the Friends of Ruch Library.
Hiking alone in the woods by myself was also a first. Walking 2 to 3-miles daily on local trails wasn’t a problem. Longer hikes presented a bit more of a challenge. First, I had to get used to the quiet. Then there was the expectation of encountering large, furry animals on my own. Deer fine. The mama bear and her two cubs was another story— especially when they decided to walk toward me. Being directionally challenged, I am always concerned about getting lost. I paid real close attention every time the trail split, carried a whistle, and loaded up with water and snacks. My conclusion, I love hiking but I prefer to hike with Curt. (Grin.) We finished off our adventure by backpacking together in the Three Sisters Wilderness of Oregon.
While waiting for Curt I hiked up the trail toward Castle Crags. It was one of several longer hikes I took.
This wraps up my observations. I was reminded that being back in nature does rebalance the mind. The think time and quiet time when wandering in the woods cannot be matched. There is a good reason that Curt and I are soulmates. So, here’s to our next adventure. I am thinking the PCT in Oregon deserves much more of our attention!
Here I am on the PCT in the Three Sisters Wilderness of Oregon.
Curt’s extensive experience backpacking, didn’t prepare him to deal with the smoke and fires along the PCT last summer. This photo was taken near Chester, California.
Curt knew I would be nervous without detailed planning of trails, mileage, rendezvous points, and alternatives. With 50 years of backpacking experience including planning, organizing and leading backpack treks for 30, he is something of an expert on the subject. Having a GPS/Spot Gen 3 tracker along was a new experience for him, however. He could upload his location each night via satellite and I could track his progress on my maps. He could also use Spot to signal for emergency help if needed and carried a cell phone, which he could use in the rare times he had cell service or if he had to hike out for some reason.
Then there was the unexpected— lack of water, smoke, fire, and possible injuries on the trail plus my challenges on the road of finding campgrounds and spaces near trailheads, power outages, limited cell service, and RV repair issues.
The first part of the trek introduced us to water shortages! Following mountain ridges over much of its length, the PCT is noted for its limited supply. The mild winter of 2017-18 with its lack of snow fall in the Siskiyous, Cascades and Sierras made it worse. Streams that would normally have been running through July were dry. Springs were sometimes a mere trickle. Even though we had downloaded the most recent information from the PCT site on water sources, the situation was changing rapidly. Our first day on the trail from Mt. Ashland proved the point.
We had planned a 10-mile day since it was our first day out. There had been sufficient water over the first seven miles. It wasn’t the case when we came to our planned camp site. Curt parked me in a pleasant location and took our water bottles down into the canyon where a stream was located. And came back empty. The stream was dry. “The map shows that there’s a spring in about a quarter of a mile off on a side road,” he announced. “We can camp there.” I loaded my pack and away we went. The spring was also dry. Have I mentioned that I was getting grumpy? Our options now appeared to be hiking three miles back or three miles ahead on the trail. “Let’s try farther down the canyon,” he suggested as a third alternative. I dutifully followed along. Fortunately, we hit water in a half mile. Curt’s experience with all-things-woodsy had paid off. The creek, by the way, was the headwaters of the Applegate River, which runs past our front yard.
We had just set up our tent when crashing thunder announced a deluge. I made it inside dry. Curt came in soaked. Mother Nature was having fun at our expense!
The greatest surprise and challenge was fire and smoke. The thought of making a fast exit ahead of a fire was always on our minds, but smoke was the main problem. Curt’s many years of working with the American Lung Association had educated him to the danger. “Wildfire smoke can be extremely harmful to the lungs, especially for children, older adults and those with asthma, COPD and bronchitis or a chronic heart disease or diabetes,” ALA warns. “I resemble one of those categories,” Curt said. Older people are to stay inside and avoid strenuous exercise. Ha!
Fires started to impact the plan as soon as Castle Crags and smoke changed the trail plan totally in Chester when we couldn’t see a hundred yards into the forest. As Curt has shared on his blog, he had to alter his journey to avoid the worst of smoke and fire. Was I worried? Yes! The most difficult situation encountered was at Sonora Pass. I awoke the morning I was to meet him there to learn that a new fire had started on the far side of the pass. As I waited, I watched the smoke billowing from the fire grow larger and larger. When Curt hadn’t arrived several hours after I expected him, I became quite concerned. Fortunately, a long skinny fellow with the trail name of Bone came hiking up to our RV.
Sonora Peak as seen from Sonora Pass where I was waiting for Curt. He’d be coming around the peak to the right. I hiked up the trail for a couple of miles hoping I would meet him along the way. No luck.My worry about Curt being late increased substantially as smoke from a new fire filled the air.
“You must be Peggy,” he said. When I responded yes, he told me that he had passed my missing buddy on the trail. Curt had asked him to pass on the information that he was fine and should be along in an hour or two. Much relieved, I settled in to wait and invited Bone to charge his cell phone in our van and have a cold beer. After Curt’s safe arrival (he tells the story in his blog), we drove to an RV campground for the night and learned that the pass and the PCT trail had been closed after we left!
Bone wearing his Portland Blazer T-shirt with a small guitar attached to the back of his pack. Note how skinny Bone is, thus his trail name.
While Curt was facing challenges out on the trail, I also had my share doing back up. As I mentioned earlier, I’d had lots of experience in camping with the RV. But I was a newbie at camping alone. Fires and lightning caused outages at campgrounds and RV parks, cell phone service was often spotty, And Quivera, our RV, demanded attention. Internal lights, the awning, and the air conditioning unit all had issues.
Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. We’d just find a shop that serviced RVs. But the local shops had a common response: “If you have a problem, call 30 days in advance for a reservation.” Does anyone else see a problem here? Repairs were up to me. Fine. The awning jammed, my solution? U-tube! I fixed it. Internal lights out? I read the manual, rewired the one I needed to read by and decided to let the other three go. AC servicing: well, other than pumping out playa dust from Burning Man— a forever problem— it was still working. Why worry?
There was a good ending to my efforts to find an RV service shop. I stopped by Camping World in Rockland near Sacramento and talked with the service staff. One of them walked out with me, confirmed that I would need to replace the awning eventually but told me bungee cords were a great temporary solution. He then replaced all the lights for me. Last but not least, he told me how to flush the AC with a hose. There was no charge for his good advice and help!
Next up: I will talk about the help that was generously offered to me along the way and a unique way of communicating with Curt: The Trekker Telegraph. Bone was a good example.
Curt and I had just started down the PCT when we came across this sign near Mt. Ashland
In the beginning: lots of questions!
When Curt first shared that he wanted to celebrate his 75thbirthday hiking on the Pacific Crest Trail, I was not surprised. He has 50 years of backpacking experience and loves wandering in the woods. Then he added the 1000-mile goal. That surprised me! There were so many questions. Reading about the challenges faced by Bill Bryson in A Walk in the Woodsand Cheryl Strayed in Wildadded more. Their combined ages when they started their adventures was less than Curt’s. The conversations and planning began.
The first question was, can we (yes, we) physically do this? I had every intention of joining Curt on the trail whenever possible. He had introduced me to backpacking in 1980 and I, too, had fallen in love with the sport. But there was this age thing— for both of us. I’m 68, a child bride perhaps from Curt’s perspective, but not in the reality of miles traveled in life. Off we went for a week’s backpacking trial run on the 40-mile Rogue River Trail. Other than Curt falling down a cliff (well, only 20 feet head first) after his trekking pole collapsed, suffering minimal damage to his arm, and bouncing back on the trail, it was a beautiful adventure and a confirmation that we could still backpack longer distances with a bit of practice and preparation.
Here I am in the late 90s above Lake Tahoe. When Curt introduced me to backpacking by hiking through the Desolation Wilderness, he brought his 87 year old friend Orvis Agee along for inspiration. Plus, how could I complain?We trained for our trip by backpacking along the Rogue River Trail in southern Oregon. Not 30 minutes after this Curt’s trekking pole collapsed and he went off the cliff. I thought he had a heart attack and charged over the edge myself. Ten minutes later we had washed the blood off his arm, slapped on antibiotic cream and were back on the trail.Usually, our backpacking adventures have us wading across fast flowing streams or balancing precariously on logs. The Rogue River Trail provided beautiful bridges. My kind of river crossing!Hiking down a steep, narrow trail covered with loose rock to reach camp at the end of a long day was not my idea of a picnic, however! (“You, want me to hike down there!?”)A ranger cabin along the way provided a photo op for us.
The next question was how much could I backpack with Curt and still provide support along the way? I was to be his ‘trail angel’ in PCT lingo. I’d be driving our 22’ Pleasure Way RV/van as the support vehicle. We had been traveling in it for years sharing driving responsibilities, so I was confident I could manage. It was to be my first solo trip, however! My job included carrying three months of food and other backpacking necessities and resupplying Curt between trail segments. There was the fine print of course— and other duties as required (grin).One was that I’d greet Curt with a big smile, a hug, and a cold beer when he came off each segment. Given that my young/old husband had survived another 70 to 100 miles of backpacking through the wilderness over challenging terrain, the smiles and hugs were really easy! My presence would also offer a comfortable break from the trail and provide the flexibility of changing mileage, timelines, and length of breaks if needed. It was an advantage that few PCT hikers have. Curt is spoiled rotten, what can I say.
We used our 22-foot RV Quivera for back up. (Quivera was a mysterious Native American city that was supposedly full of treasure but was always moving around so no one could find it.) I’ve had plenty of experience driving it. We always take turns, but there is more. When Curt and I retraced his 1989, 10,000 mile solo bike trip around North America a couple of years ago, I drove the whole way so he could take notes and photos.A #10 can of Mountain House freeze dried food. The back of our van was packed to the brim with food when we began the trip. Each time Curt finished a segment of the trail, I would help him put his next resupply together. This will give you an idea of what Curt looked liked when he came off the trail: Skinny, disheveled and sweaty! (Here, he had just covered 16 miles in a little over four hours.) And I was supposed to hug this guy and give him a cold beer? Yep.Ah, the things that love will do to you.In my role as ‘Trail Angel’ I provided many a through hiker with a cold beer, which Curt fully supported… as long as I saved one for him!
Realistically, I would not be able to backpack much of the way without someone moving the van from Point A to Point B. However, we could backpack the first segment together from Mt. Ashland to Seiad Valley which would be a great confidence builder for both of us. The rest we would figure out on the run! Once we hiked into Seiad Valley, 6 days and 60 miles later, I was assured Curt could do anything he put his mind to! (So could I.) Still, waving goodbye to him as he left Seiad Valley on his first solo segment up through the Marble Mountains was hard. “If you don’t come out, Curt, I am coming in after you,” I told him and meant it. He had looked nervous and said, “Call Tony first.” I am geographically challenged when it comes to finding my way around in the woods. Tony is our Coast Guard pilot son who has participated in numerous rescue operations.
Our journey along the PCT from Mt. Ashland to the Seiad Valley brought us to the Oregon-California border. It is a major objective for the majority of through hikers who travel north. For Curt, it was just the beginning of his journey.While we were only hiking 60 miles, there were plenty of challenges. Here, I am hiking up the back of the Red Buttes. We can see the other side of these mountains from our home.A picture of the now snow-covered Red Buttes taken from our patio this morning.Of course there were occasional breaks. I couldn’t resist this convenient chair.Here we are celebrating at the small campground where we had left our RV in Seiad Valley. It appears that I was to get one beer and Curt five. Not.My emotions were mixed as Curt turned to wave goodbye before heading up into the Marble Mountains. For one, I was proud of him, proud of both of us, for undertaking this fantastic adventure. On the other hand, this was the first section of the trail he was hiking by himself. So many things could go wrong out there. He was no longer the 20, 30, 40, 50, or even 60-year old of his earlier backpacking days. Would he come out of the mountains at the place and time he had planned? I smiled bravely and waved goodbye.
NEXT POST: When the unexpected happens along the PCT. Peggy’s perspective: Part 2.
This scary/wonderful creature called Rabid Transit is another creation from the fertile imagination of Duane Flatmo, the same person that brought El Pulpo Mechanico to Burning Man. In fact, Rabid Transit is built on the same Ford chassis that El Pulpo was built on.
Duane Flatmo lives in Eureka California, a short 3 plus hours away from where I live and a million miles away in imagination. Wanting to create a new creature, he struggled with a concept that would live up to his fantastic El Pulpo Mechanico.
El Pulpo
Rabid Transit was his answer. Like El Pulpo, Rabid Transit was created from items gathered at a local junk yard in Eureka. Note El Pulpo’s legs made out of abandoned barrels.
A full view of Rabid Transit. Various animals are situated around the vehicle. Note the sharp toothed fishy hood-head.A side view of Rabid Transit.Rabid Transit in full fire! As you might imagine, you can feel the heat and hear the roar.
Never Was Haul comes as a Victorian home on wheels with a cow catcher on the front. (Cow catchers are what trains use to put on the front of their engines to remove cattle, moose and buffalo from the tracks.) Born in Berkeley as part of the steam punk art movement, Never Was Haul has been to Burning Man many times.
A photo taken of Never Was Haul by Tom Lovering. When Tom first saw the mutant vehicle, it was love at first sight.Another photo by Tom.A close up side view. And a front view.
For sheer fun, I’d have to list the large vase mutant vehicle shown below as a top candidate. I was even more entertained when I discovered it changed colors at night.
Settled into camp, this is what the vase looks like during the day time.And here it is at night.In twilight’s glow.And a final night time view.
Several trains have appeared at Burning Man. There has even been a caboose, the Dust Bus, which proudly claims it is part of the Nor Cal Black Rock Railroad..
One of the trains, complete with cow catcher.A side view…Another train.Here it is at night with its cow catcher lit up.
Before trains, people got across the US in Conestoga wagons. The Oregon Trail passes through the Black Rock Desert not too far from Burning Man and would have seen many of these wagons carrying pioneers west, among them, my Great, Great Grandmother.
This giant rendition also transported many people across the desert, or at least the Playa.A side view.At night.
I’ll finish today’s post with four individual mutant vehicles:
I’d go with Kilroy, here.Needs no introduction for those over 40. It’s a phone. (grin) A brain.I will conclude today with Walter, the giant VW van from Arizona. I think they used an airport firetruck as its base.
NEXT POST: Peggy’s perspective on our hike on the PCT this past summer.
The Bush Devil Ate Sam is an important record and a serious story, yet told easily, and with delightful humor. This is one of the most satisfying books I have ever read, because it entertained me thoroughly AND made me feel better informed. —Hilary Custance Green: British Author... Click on the image to learn more about my book, the Bush Devil Ate Sam, and find out where it can be ordered.
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