We found this fellow in Pyrgos on the Greek island of Tinos. It was giving us the look. “Why are you interrupting my nap time?” Cats, as everyone knows, enjoy their naps— 12-16 hours a day, or even up to 20.
Unlike Ancient Egypt, where people had a cat god and mummified their pets, domestic cats weren’t around in Ancient Greece. Now it’s different. We found them everywhere we travelled this past month: Athens, the island of Tinos, Nafplio, Olympia, and Delphi. We even had temps, cats that volunteered to be our pets, to hang around and meow at us— assuming that we kept the food coming.
This skinny female didn’t mind us waking her up. She had adopted us at our Vrbo on Tinos and persuaded me to feed her while we were there for a few days. Our appearance meant the it was time to jump down and start rubbing against my leg.
From research on past posts I’ve done that included cats, I learned that the leg rubbing business is the way a cat marks you with its scent to claim ownership. Other cats need not apply. I also learned about the kneading business where the cat sinks its claws into your leg or stomach while purring. That apparently comes from when they were kittens and kneaded their mother’s teats to encourage milk flow. Even grouchy old toms seem to take comfort from this activity.
There was no leg rubbing from the cat in Pyros however. The message was “Go bother another cat. Preferably a big one.”Uh, I think we’ll let that kitty sleep. (Photo from our Southern Africa safari.)Actually, lions once roamed throughout Greece and the surrounding area with the last being recorded in Macedonia in the first century CE. I think every Greek ruin we visited had at least one sculpture of the large, scary animals. A few were chomping down on something… or someone.Ouch. Scary didn’t involve chomping in most of the sculptures, however. Looks were enough.This lion was having a hard time keeping it together. No wonder it was angry. “Where did my body go?”I introduced this kitten in my last post. She was fascinated with a bird up in the tree. We were down on the Peloponnesian Peninsula at Mycenae, which includes one the world’s most famous lion carvings. Her brother appeared to be off on an adventure. I imagined it saying, “Can I see the Lion Gate again, Mom? Please, please, please.”“If you are a good kitty,” Mom admonished.Kitty wasn’t alone in his desire to see the Lion Gate. I also promised to be good. Mycenae had been the center of Greek civilization between 1600 and 1100 BCE. I had been waiting to see it ever since I took World History in High School. While that wasn’t 3000 years ago, it was awhile. The Gate features two lionesses flanking a central pillar.A close up. The lionesses are missing their heads. It is thought that they may have been made out of metal and been facing outward to warn any potential invaders.This lioness that Peggy and I took photos of in Southern Africa would have served as a great model for the missing heads. Invaders wouldn’t have to had known that the lion was simply yawning.This lioness would have worked.Shortly after leaving Mycenae, we came to the town of Nafplio where we stayed for a week. The lion sculptures there had wings! We had seen them before. In Venice. Their presence in Nafplio was due to the fact that Venice had once occupied the city. The winged lion is the symbol for Saint Mark the Evangelist, who was the patron saint of Venice. A close up.Another example of a Venetian winged lion in Nafplio. In case you are wondering about the round things around the lions’ heads, they represent halos, a required accouterment of saints. (“Don’t forget to put on your halo, honey.”)The halo is solid here. Judging from the looks on the lion’s face, he was not having a good day. Is pissed a good word here? Sort of how one might look if you had spent your day being dragged through the streets of Alexandria, which is how St. Mark met his maker and gained his wings. But, now, back to kitties.We found this cat ensconced on its chunk of wood in Ancient Pisa, a small community about two miles away from Olympia, Greece where the Olympics were founded. To us it symbolized the fact that cats can sleep almost anywhere. Chairs are quite common in Europe but we have also found cats on the backs of motorcycles, tombstones, all sorts of stone ruins and even on the ground, if nothing else is available.The ground seemed okay to this cat outside our Vrbo in Delphi, Greece…The challenge was getting comfortable…Here’s a hint if you are looking for a little kitty companionship in Greece. Sit down at any of the innumerable outdoor tables you find throughout the country. The odds are a cat will be by to visit in minutes, if not immediately. It’s how they make their living and seems to be universally acceptable to restaurant owners. A bite of whatever you are eating, followed up by another and another will guarantee you have a companion for the whole meal. Unless someone makes a better offer. This pretty little calico had just issued an inquiring meow. It was joined by two other cats while we all had lunch.Including this handsome fellow.I’ll conclude today with one final lion sculpture. My question is does having a bad hair day make you look scary? Or does it just make you look silly?That’s embarrassing. (Photo from Peggy’s and my trip through southern Africa.)
Peggy and I have been back in Virginia for a few days, but tomorrow we head out again, this time for the Scottish Highlands and Northern Ireland. Once again, I be choosing tales from UT-OH to fill in while we are traveling.
First up: I’m going to start with bear tales from the years I lived in Alaska. This is large grizzly that was self-entertaining with the bone of a moose that it kept throwing up into the air. “Come a little closer, you will get a much better look.” Yeah, right.
Every couple of years I update Bone’s travel history because he continues to wander the world.
Bone has travelled to the base of Mt. Everest. Twice.
Sometime in the 1900s Bone started his life as part of a horse wandering through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The horse was allegedly eaten by a bear. Bone ended up in a high mountain meadow practicing Zen and being nibbled on by a miscreant rodent.
1977: He was ‘discovered’ by two lost backpackers (Curt Mekemson and Tom Lovering) on the Tahoe Yosemite Trail south of Lake Tahoe and launched his career of wandering the world.
Normally, Bone likes to hang out in Curt and Peggy’ library in Virginia. His favorite section is travel.
He also has a fondness for George, the Bush Devil, who is on the cover of Curt’s book, “The Bush Devil Ate Sam.” Here, the two of them share a laugh.
1980-81: Bone commenced his first World Tour with Tom. He visited Asia including Japan, Hong Kong, Bombay, Delhi and Katmandu where he trekked to the base of Mt. Everest. He then wandered on to spend spring and summer in Europe stopping off in Greece, Spain, Portugal, France, Italy, Austria, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Germany, Belgium, England and Ireland. Getting cold, Bone headed south and hitched a ride in the back of a truck through Algeria, Niger, Chad, Nigeria, Cameroon, Central African Republic, Zaire, Sudan, Kenya (where he crossed the Equator), Tanzania, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana and South Africa. He signed on with Tom as crew of a sailboat in Cape Town and headed north to Mallorca, stopping off on the islands of St. Helena, Ascension, Cape Verde and Madeira. Back in Europe he explored his possible Viking roots in Sweden, Norway and Finland.
1983-86: Bone assumed Cheechako status and moved to Alaska with Curt where he was stalked by a grizzly bear on the Kenai Peninsula, explored Prince William Sound by kayak, learned to winter camp in 30 degree below zero weather while listening to wolves howl, backpacked in the Brooks Range north of the Arctic Circle, and discussed the finer points of eating salmon with Great Brown Bears in Katmai National Park. He escaped briefly to the warmer climate of Hawaii and participated in the New Orleans Mardi Gras.
One look at this fellow and Bone decided that he wanted to be elsewhere.
The big guy was playing with a distant cousin of his.
1986: He backpacked the Western US for five months with Curt exploring the Grand Canyon, the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico, the Rockies, and the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming before returning to his beloved Sierras.
1989: Bone joined Curt on a six month 10,000-mile solo bike tour around North America visiting 18 states and 4 Canadian provinces. He ended his journey by meeting Peggy in Sacramento.
1990: The International Society of the BONE was formed at Senior Frogs in Mazatlan, Mexico, where Bone spent the afternoon being pickled in a pitcher of margaritas and being kissed by lovely senoritas.
1991-97: Various members of International Society accompanied Bone on numerous adventures. Highlights included a White House Press Conference with Bill Clinton, being blessed by the Pope in St. Peter’s Square, visiting with Michelangelo’s David, going deep-sea diving in the South Pacific and Caribbean, doing a Jane Austin tour of England, and exploring the Yucatan Peninsula. A group adopted him as a good luck charm and took him back to visit the base of Mt. Everest one year and to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro another.
Bone loves high places. Here he is on top of Mt. Kilimanjaro in East Africa. (He’s with MJ, fourth from right, standing.)
Bone went diving in the Pacific in 1997 with Jose and Barbara Kirchner, visiting a Japanese ship sunk during World War II and receiving his diving certificate.
1998-99: Bone embarked on 40,000-mile journey in the van, Xanadu, through the US, Canada and Mexico with Peggy and Curt, visiting over 30 National Parks, driving the Alaska and Baja Highways, checking out Smokey the Bear’s and Calamity Jane’s graves, kayaking in the Sea of Cortez, leaf peeping in Vermont, jetting to the Bahamas, pursuing flying saucers in Roswell, New Mexico, and completing his visits to all 50 states.
Bone was quite impressed with the size of his ancient relatives. Here he rests on dinosaur toes at the Dinosaur National Monument Visitor Center.
2000-02: Bone journeys up the Amazon, returns to Europe, cruises to Belize, Cancun and the Cayman’s, and goes to New Zealand where a misguided customs agent tries to arrest and jail him as animal matter.
Bone, who likes strange things, insisted on having his photo taken with a mudstone concretion in New Zealand.
2003: Bone undertakes a 360-mile backpack trip in celebration of his discovery and Curt’s 60th birthday. They begin at Squaw Valley near Lake Tahoe and end by climbing Mt. Whitney. Various friends join them along the way.
Bone got a little high when he helped Curt celebrate his 60th birthday, which isn’t surprising considering he is a California bone.
2004: Bone visits Hemingway’s grave in Idaho, goes horseback riding with Australians and Bahamians in Montana, and makes his first pilgrimage to Burning Man in Nevada, a very Bone like type of place. He also jets off to Costa Rica.
Bone has a love for anything ancient. Here, he perches on a Mayan sculpture in Costa Rica.
2005-2007: Bone returns to Burning Man twice and revisits Europe twice including special stopovers in Portugal, France, Holland, Germany, and Belgium. He also revisits Mexico.
2008 – 2011: Bone commences another exploration of North America. This time he travels in the van, Quivera, along with Curt, Peggy, and Eeyore the Jackass. His journey takes him over 75,000 miles of American Roads. Along the way, he barely escapes the hangman’s noose in Tombstone, Arizona. In May of 2010 he helps Curt initiate his blog, and rafts 220 miles down the Colorado River with Tom, Curt and friends through the Grand Canyon.
Bone barely escaped the hangman’s noose after being a Bad Bone in Tombstone, Arizona.Bone, wearing his PFD, scouts a major rapid on the Colorado River before rafting though it.
2012-2017: Bone goes into semi-retirement in Southern Oregon. Please note the semi, however. He continues the exploration of the West Coast ranging from Big Sur to Vancouver Island, where he kayaks for a week in search of Killer Whales. He wanders through England and Scotland helping Curt find his roots and spends a week traveling by Canal Boat. Later, he returns to Europe again, traveling through the Mediterranean visiting Turkey, Santorini and other Greek Islands, Dubrovnik, Venice, Rome, Pompeii, Florence, and Barcelona. He returns to Burning Man several times. On one trip, he is married to the lovely Bonetta, who he met while exploring a swamp in Florida. Rumor has it that it was a shotgun wedding. This past year he traveled with Peggy and me on our 10,000 mile trip around North America retracing Curt’s bike route. He made a very special trip with fellow blogger Crystal Truelove to visit with Native Americans of the Cherokee Nation in Oklahoma.
Burning Man is one of Bone’s all-time favorite activities.
Bone and Big Nose Bonetta are married in a temple at Burning Man in 2013. Bone’s kilt was made for him by an 80-plus year old woman from Kansas. Bonetta is wearing a designer wedding dress with very expensive plastic jewelry to match.
Bone got a wee bit jealous when I snuggled up to this mammoth of a bone when Peggy and I were re-visiting by van my 1999 10,000-mile bike trip.
2018: Bone joins Curtis in celebrating Curt’s 75th Birthday by backpacking 750 miles in Oregon and California. Highlights include the Rogue River Trail, Three Sisters Wilderness and the Siskiyou Mountains in Oregon. In California, Curt and Bone more or less follow the Pacific Crest Trail through the Klamath Mountains, Marble Mountains, Trinity Alps, Cascade Mountains and Sierra Nevada Mountains— taking detours whenever the mood strikes, including revisiting where Tom and Curt found him in 1977! Along the way, Bone meets and chats with numerous through-hikers on the Pacific Crest Trail who are hiking from Mexico to Canada. He also spends a lot of time dodging horrendous forest fires. Peggy joins Curt and Bone for three sections of the journey and provides welcome backup for the rest of the journey.
Bone had a privileged position on the front of Curt’s Backpack during the 750 mile journey down the Pacific Crest Trail.Bone met many through-hikers making their way from Mexico to Canada including a hiker whose trail name was Bone! Here we have Bone and Bone.As we arrived at Bone’s home south of Lake Tahoe, he entertained Peggy with tales from his childhood.
2019-2020: He joins Curt for a trip down California’s beautiful Highway 395 among the Eastern Sierras and visits the Alabama Hills where cowboy movies of yore were made with the likes of John Wayne, Hopalong Cassidy, the Lone Ranger and a host of others— voices from the past that have echoed down through time. “Hi-yo Silver away.”
Bone and his traveling companion Eeyore donned covid masks for 2020 RV trip to the Outer Banks of North Carolina to celebrate Peggy’s 70th Birthday.
2022-2026 “Is that a bone in your suitcase? Hand it over.” Worried about being confiscated by the TSA or some similar organization overseas, Bone decides to limit his travel to the US with a 10,000 mile road trip each year. Highlights include 3-month trips where he explores the Pacific Coast, the Southwest, the Northwest, and New England. Taking different routes to get to these locations, he also spends time in the South, Midwest, East and West in general. Along the way, he manages to visit most of the National Parks, travels Route 66, and goes to Burning Man again. He also goes backpacking and kayaking. He now lives in Virginia with Curt and Peggy, who have moved there from Oregon to be closer to family.
Monday’s Post: The Beaver’s Revenge. Having left Alaska in 1986, I returned to the lower 48 states. To help with the transition I took my first six month off backpacking in the West. This week I will feature three tales from the time: 1) A trip into the Wind River Mountains of Wyoming where I encounter the beaver, 2) An exploration of the Gila Wilderness of New Mexico where a herd of elk charges me, and 3) A backpacking trip into the Grand Canyon.
Peggy and I are off journeying through Greece, Scotland and Ireland over the next several weeks, so there won’t be much time for blogging. Initially, I decided to put the blog on hold, but I’ve decided to republish some of my favorite posts that may eventually make it into UT-OH!.
In today’s post our group of five splits up and Lynn and April hike out to South Lake Tahoe to care for April’s sprained ankle while Tom, Terry and I backpack on to Lake Aloha through the Desolation Wilderness.
Tree blazes were an important way to mark trails through wilderness areas in the past, and still can prove useful today. This is an old tree blaze in the Desolation Wilderness.
I watched regrettably as April and Lynn headed out. I would miss the inspiration. Soon, however, my mind was more than occupied with route finding. The trail had disappeared under the snow.
Tom pulled out his map and compass to establish our general direction. We searched for ancient tree blazes cut out by axes and left behind by early foresters, cattlemen and sheepherders.
We also watched for ducks where the snow had melted. I’m not talking about fowl that quack and taste good in orange sauce. Ducks, in backpacking terminology, are piles of stone set up to show the way. With a little imagination, they can look like their namesake. Caution is advisable. The people creating the ducks may have had a different destination in mind, or perhaps they were lost.
This is what a duck looks like. I used this form extensively on Sierra Treks. I had my rear guard kick them over to avoid confusing other hikers.
An hour later we found ourselves more or less where we supposed to be, on the edge of the Rubicon River. A student of ancient Roman History undoubtedly named the stream. Like Julius Caesar, we were faced with crossing it. In a month or so it would be a tame creek inviting a refreshing dip but now it was a roaring river filled with icy water from quickly melting snow fields.
Not carrying a camera with me in those years, I asked AI to generate a photo of what a stream filled with raging snow-melt looks like. It did a good job! While our crossing was on a flatter portion of the Rubicon, the river was still daunting.
I entered with trepidation and was almost washed off my feet. Facing up-stream, I used a walking stick to give myself a third leg. Water crept up to my knees and beyond. I have short legs. The force was incredible. I set each foot carefully and moved crab-like, searching for solid ground between slippery rocks.
I’d undone my pack belt so I could shuck the pack if I was knocked over. Swimming in freezing water with 50 pounds on your back is hazardous to your health. In a few minutes, that stretched out forever, I was across. Tom and Terry also made it without incident.
We plopped down on a convenient log to catch our breath and munch down on GORP (good old raisins and peanuts). It was a quick meal. A thick swarm of mosquitoes dive-bombed us with kamikaze abandon. Slap one and five more landed, gleefully licking off our bug repellent before plunging in their beaks. Snow melt time is primetime for mosquitoes!
We were driven to put on our packs and scurry up the trail. Fortunately, Rockbound Valley is relatively flat and we were able to escape. Stopping was not an option as we hoofed it for the next four miles, crossing the Rubicon two more times before we begin our labored ascent up aptly named Mosquito Pass.
Life slowed down immediately as we began climbing. The blood sucking hoards caught up. Near the top, we were confronted with a different challenge, more snow. Eight hours of hot sun had turned it to mush. We spent as much time sliding as we did climbing. It was slow, hard, slogging work. And it was dangerous. Running water, partially exposed boulders and tree trunks melt snow from the ground up and create hidden cavities. More than once we plunged through up to our knees.
Ignoring the danger, Tom and I laughed our way down the other side, skiing in our boots (glissading). Control was minimal. Camp was in sight. Terri came along at a much more sedate and careful pace.
There was nothing about Lake Aloha that made me think Hawaii. It was a strange Dali-like creation with a convoluted shoreline and innumerable Rorschach type islands. What’s more, mini-icebergs decorated its surface. Bright white on top, they turned an icy blue under the water. All I could think was cold. Plowing through snow on our way around the lake to camp added freezing to my thoughts.
That night, we built a small campfire to fight off the chill. Terry wandered off to bed. Tom was slightly melancholy. He looked off into the distance over my shoulder.
“I was married on that peak,” he announced to the night. I turned around and stared across Lake Aloha at the towering Pyramid Peak, the centerpiece of the Crystal Range. It was bathed in moonlight.
Several years earlier, Tom had met and fallen in love with Hilde, a slight, attractive blonde who shared his love of the wilderness. They decided to get married on the mountain. Mom, wedding party and friends were invited to share their 9983 feet “I do” in the Desolation Wilderness.
A photo of Lake Aloha on my 750 mile trek on the PCT. It was in August: No snow, no icebergs. (Grin) Tom was married on the farthest peak.
The marriage didn’t last long and Tom was reluctant to talk about it. The fire burned down to glowing embers. We shared the silence in memory of lost love.
Next: Bone Is Found… but not before the naked ladies jump.
Peggy and I are now on the Greek Island of Tinos. This is a sunset view from our VRBO.
Living in the forests of the Western United States is subject to a constant threat of forest fires in the summer. This is a photo from our deck when we lived in Oregon. Fires raged throughout the area a number of times while we were there, and once we had to evacuate when the one came within a mile of our home. The forest fire I fought as an 18-year old near Georgetown, California would have looked much like this.
I was a senior before “love” hit me: That starry eyed, loop de loop feeling which has little to do with rational thought and one hell of a lot to do with hormones and ancient instincts that go all the way back to the beginning of life. It had all of the subtlety of a sledge hammer. Nature has a myriad of ways to assure we pass on our genes. A mere sniff works for some. For humans it’s more complicated. We are expected to hang out and help raise kids, a process that takes 18 years, or longer— at a minimum. That takes a lot of incentive.
Falling ‘head over heels in love,’ is just the beginning.
I met D in speech class. She was blond, bright, sexy and interested in me— an irresistible combination. Somehow, she ended up sitting in my lap as a joke when the teacher was a few minutes late. And bam! I was in love. We started dating and decided to ‘go steady.’ I even gave her my class ring. We became an item in the lingo of the day, a couple to be invited out together, a future with a question mark. We even had matching shirts, the ultimate in commitment.
But my question mark was bigger than D’s, or at least it came to fruition sooner. I was graduating from high school while she had another year. There was a big world waiting out there and I wasn’t ready to limit its horizons. So, with a degree of sadness, I ended the relationship. D was not happy. She had our future planned, even down to naming the babies.
That summer, being a ‘free man,’ several young women attracted my attention, one was Kathy Truax. She had large brown eyes that consumed and a sharp mind that challenged. She seemed sophisticated, almost exotic to me, and came from a very different world.
Her father, Robert Truax, was one of America’s premier, pioneer rocket engineers. He had kicked off his career prior to World War II when a childhood interest in Robert Goddard led him to build rockets at his home in Alameda, California. He had then gone on to work with the Navy on rocket development during World War II, and later helped build both the Thor and Polaris missiles. By 1959 he had left the military and was heading up Aerojet-General’s advanced rocket development division in Sacramento, California.
Kathy had transferred to El Dorado County High School as a senior when her dad had gone to work at Aerojet. She was on her way to Occidental College in Los Angeles in the fall and I was on my way to the local community college. They were a long way apart, and miles weren’t the only measure. Still, I thought a date would be fun.
The only drawback was I had to pick up the phone and call. There was a very real chance that Kathy would say no, and I am lousy at rejection. So I practiced something I am good at, procrastination. When I finally worked up the nerve to call, she picked up the phone on the first ring. “Oh, hi Curt,” she answered cheerfully. No, she wasn’t totally tied up in getting ready for Occidental and, yes, it would be fun to go out. So much for all of the time I’d spent anguishing. Our date would be a visit the California State Fair in Sacramento the following Saturday evening. I hung up with a loud ‘YES’ to myself. The rest should be easy.
Except it wasn’t. When is it ever. Time slowed down to thwart me. Weeks later, Friday finally arrived. Fortunately, pear season was at its height, and I had a busy nine hours swamping out 50-pound boxes of pears from the orchard and bench pressing them onto a fruit truck. That night, my friend Hunt Warner was hosting a beer party that killed several more hours not to mention brain cells. Midnight and Saturday were thirty minutes away when the phone rang.
“Hey Curt, it’s your mom,” Hunt announced over the din.
I had a sinking feeling that there was a family emergency. And yes, it was, just not family. The forest around Georgetown, a small community in the Sierra foothills, was burning down. The United States Forest Service had called seeking a few good men but was willing to accept anything that walked on two legs and could swing a mattock (a heavy tool with a pick on one side and a hoe on the other).
I had signed up to fight fires at the beginning of summer and had gone through a one-day training, which apparently qualified me to go out and risk my life. It was one of those things you do on a lark and later wonder why. I was definitely at the wondering stage when my mother gave me the phone number I was supposed to call. Normally, my better judgment would have kicked in. The date was looming, and a good party was roaring. But I was eighteen and had three (or more?) beers down my gullet. Fighting a fire seemed exciting. It was an adventure not to be missed, an Ut-Oh moment for sure… Stay tuned: Part II of today’s post will be next Wednesday.
The Main Street of Placerville looks pretty much the same today as it did in 1961. The Chief of Police pulled our car over on the right hand side of the street here. The incident took place near the red hotel building, a block or so down the road.
If I was going to base my future on my organizational skills, I had to practice, right? So, I organized a protest my senior year. As a 60’s issue, it wasn’t a biggie. The Administration had axed our Senior Ditch Day and we wanted it back.
I drew up a petition and Patti Foley, who had great calligraphy, made it fancy. Almost all of the seniors signed. (I still have it.) A student strike was organized. I’m sure it was the first time El Dorado Union High School students had even considered such an action, Mabe even the last. Some of our rowdier students even lit trash cans on fire.
It wasn’t the issue that got me threatened with jail, however. The school administration called me in and asked if we couldn’t work out some type of compromise on Senior Ditch Day, which I readily agreed to. The strike was called off, the rowdies stopped lighting trash cans on fire, and we switched our Ditch Day to one more agreeable to the Administration. Everyone won. My civics teacher was impressed.
My problem with the law took place on Graduation Day when I inadvertently (or is that idiotically) crossed paths with Mike De Natly, the Placerville Chief of Police. Few of my UT-OH! moments can hold a candle to this one. As one might expect, our last day of high school was a goof off day. All the tests were over, yearbooks signed, and caps and gowns fitted. There really wasn’t much to do except revel in the fact that we were through and to say goodbye to friends. Lunchtime meant a final cruise of Placerville’s Main Street to check out girls, to see and be seen.
What happened was out of character for me. I normally keep my comments on other peoples’ driving habits to myself and car-mates. The horn is for really bad infractions, and, on very rare occasions, a single digit comment is appropriate. I would never stick my head out the window and yell at someone. That can get you shot.
But we were hot stuff on graduation day. When a blue car decided to stop in the middle of Placerville’s crowded, narrow downtown street right in front of us and forced us to hit our brakes, it irritated me. And then, the driver nonchalantly got out to have a conversation with the driver of the car in front of him. It pushed me over the edge. Out went my head as we edged around the two cars and I had an attack of uncontrollable Y chromosome aggression.
“You SOB,” I yelled, “get your F-ing car out of the way!”
So what if I didn’t recognize the Chief of Police out of uniform in an unmarked car. So what if he had stopped to offer help to a guy who had managed to stall his car on Placerville’s busy Main Street. So what if I had suggested he had canine parentage in a voice that half of Placerville heard. It was an innocent mistake.
“That was Mike De Natly you just cussed out,” our driver managed to stutter with mixed parts of fear and awe.
As a teenager, I had pulled some fairly dumb stunts. Teenagers have a responsibility to push the envelope. It’s the rather awkward method evolution has provided for growing up and developing unique personalities. Mistakes are bound to happen and that’s okay. But I was carrying my responsibility too far; I had gone beyond dumb and plunged into really stupid.
“Keep driving,” I uttered with all the hope of the irrevocably damned, “maybe he is too busy and will ignore us.”
Sure, like maybe the sun won’t rise tomorrow. The poor stalled guy could still be sitting in the middle of Placerville for all of the attention the police chief paid to him after my little admonition. De Natly jumped in his car, slapped his flashing light on his roof, hit his siren and sped after us. Not that he needed to speed fast or far. We were creeping up Main Street in sheer terror about one block away. I am sure my car-mates were wishing fervently that Curt Mekemson hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning, had never made their acquaintance, and was, at that very moment, facing a group of starving cannibals in some far-off jungle.
We pulled over with De Natly literally parked on our rear bumper and resigned ourselves to the firing squad. Luckily, for my friends, the Chief had no interest in them. He appeared at my window red-faced and shouting about five inches away. Under the best of circumstances, he was known for having a temper and these were not the best of circumstances.
“Get out of the car,” he yelled. “Get out right now!”
I moved fast. This was not the time for bravery and stubbornness. It was a time to be humble— it was groveling time. And I groveled with the best. I blathered out apologies and managed to work “sir” into every sentence, several times. I trotted out my friendship with his stepson, I threw in the City Treasurer who was a mentor, and I even brought in Father Baskin, the Episcopal minister, as a character reference.
“Get in my car,” he ordered. My groveling seemed to be having minimal impact. At least he hadn’t handcuffed me.
We drove up to City Hall, and I had visions of being booked and thrown into a cell with some big hulking giant who either didn’t like young men or liked them too much. I thought of having to call my parents and explain how their son had become a common criminal. But De Natly had an even more diabolical plan in mind. We slowly made a turn through the jail parking lot to give me a sense of my future fate and then, to my surprise, hopped on Highway 50 to Canal Street and drove up to the high school.
I was going to have to explain my actions to the principal. My chances of graduating that night slipped down a notch. I doubted that he would have much of a sense of humor about one of his students cussing out the Chief of Police. But explaining my inexplicable actions to him would have been mercy in comparison to what happened.
It was a beautiful late spring day, this last day of school, and it seemed like half of the student body and a significant portion of teachers were enjoying their lunches on the expansive lawn in front of the school. De Natly pulled up to the sidewalk beside the lawn and ordered me out. The Chief of Police arriving with me in tow was enough to capture the attention of several students sitting close by. Then he made sure that everyone was aware of our presence.
“Do you want to spend the night in jail or graduate, Curtis?” he asked in a voice that was easily equivalent in volume to the one that I had used in suggesting he move his car. Conversation on the lawn came to a dead halt. Every ear in the place homed in on us with the intensity that a cat reserves for a potential mouse dinner. And I was the mouse. This was a Kodak moment, not to be missed.
My answer was easy: Of course, I wanted to graduate, SIR. And so it went, De Natly barking questions with the voice of an army sergeant and me responding as the lowest of recruits. Finally, after a few minutes that felt like eternity, the Chief got in his car and drove away.
I was left to deal with the not so gentle humor of the students and faculty plus a principal who wasn’t quite sure whether he should take over where De Natly left off or laugh at my predicament. At least he had the grace to wait until I left his office before he chose the latter. I could hear his laughter echoing down the empty hallways. And yes, I was allowed to graduate that night.
Today I am reposting a blog that I originally posted on the 50th Anniversary of Earth Day. I’ve made modifications to reflect what is happening now. (All photos displayed in this post were taken by either my wife, Peggy, or me.)
The world is full of incredible beauty that is worthy of our love and protection. This is a view of the Grand Canyon National Park on a beautifully clear day.
I was on the Davis Campus of the University of California on April 22, 1970, 56 years ago. For those of you not familiar with the date, it was Earth Day I, and UC Davis was hosting an event to celebrate. At the time, I was running the Peace Corps’ Public Affairs office for Northern California and Nevada out of Sacramento. Curiosity pulled me away from my recruiting duties to check out the event.
UC Davis puts on great fairs. It probably has to do with an event it calls Picnic Day, a rite of spring with roots as deep as humankind. The birds are singing, flowers are blooming, and the snow is melting in the mountains; let’s have a party! All of the departments become involved, put on shows, put up displays, and do silly things.
The flowers were blooming. Poppies grow extensively throughout California’s Central Valley in the spring.
Earth Day at Davis was similar, but it incorporated a vitally important message.
Somehow we had forgotten where we had come from in our rush toward progress and the good life. And in our desire to maximize profits. As a result, we were chopping down our forests, polluting our streams, poisoning our air, destroying our last remaining wilderness areas, and saying goodbye forever to innumerable species whose major evolutionary mistake had been to get in our way.
We had forgotten that birds can make music as beautifully as any symphony, that peace and balance can be found in the wilderness, and that somehow, in some yet unfathomable way, our fate might be tied to that of endangered species. It seemed okay that the last brown pelican was about to fly off into the sunset forever so we could squeeze one more bushel of wheat from our crops, and that it was appropriate for the great redwoods, silent sentinels who had maintained their vigilance for over 2000 years, to die for our patio with a lifespan of 20-30 years.
Brown pelicans, once near extinction because of DDT used on crops, have made a dramatic comeback since the use of DDT was banned. We took this photo south of Santa Barbara, California.
Rachel Carson, in her landmark book Silent Spring, had sounded a clarion call to a Holy Crusade: saving the earth. Others, too, were raising the alarm. Earth Day I was an expression of growing concern. Its message struck a deep chord with me. The years I had spent wandering in the woods while growing up, my exploration of the rainforest around Gbarnga, Liberia during my Peace Corps assignment, and my hiking in the wilderness as a backpacker, all came together in a desire to join the environmental movement and help protect the wilderness I had come to love.
Some of my happiest moments as a Peace Corps Volunteer in West Africa were spent hiking in the rain forests surrounding where I lived. Here I am crossing a native bridge on one of the many paths I explored.
I wandered between booths on campus, talking to the representatives of various organizations and picking up materials. There was information about the redwoods, water and air pollution, recycling, land-use planning, mass transit and the protection of valuable farm lands. I learned about all the species that had become extinct because of our activities— and that many more were threatened.
How could one not feel awe when confronted by giant redwoods in their cathedral like setting. It seemed terribly wrong to me that the life of a 2000 plus year old giant should be ended with a chainsaw to meet our short-termed demand for wood products.
I went home that night inspired, concerned, and more than a little frightened about what we were doing to our planet— the only home we have. Three weeks later, I had left the Peace Corps and become Executive Director of Sacramento’s first Ecology Education/Environmental Action Center, working 50-60 hours a week to help establish a massive city-wide, volunteer driven recycling effort. I would continue to devote a significant amount of my time to supporting environmental causes for the next 20 years of my life, working beside some of the most dedicated, selfless and talented individuals I have ever known.
Our efforts, and those of hundreds, even thousands of others, made a difference. The majority of people in the US as well as in numerous other countries around the world became convinced that protecting the environment was a worthwhile endeavor. Air pollution was reduced, waterways were cleaned up, wilderness areas were saved, and a number of endangered species were brought back from near extinction. Once again, eagles soared, buffalos roamed and wolves howled.
The progress has never been easy, however. Powerful economic interests and their political allies have often fought against environmental change that they felt would reduce their bottom-line profits. Our individual life styles have also played a significant role in hindering positive environmental gain.
By Earth Day 1, we were becoming alarmed about the impact of air pollution on heath and were beginning to develop an awareness of the impact of greenhouse gasses on global warming. Efforts were made to slow down and even reverse the impact. But we moved inches when feet, and even yards, were required. All too often, our three steps forward involved the proverbial one step back.
For example, acting under the pretense of removing Federal shackles at the behest of the automotive and oil industries, the Reagan Administration halted efforts in the 80s that had been established in place in 1975 requiring manufacturers to produce vehicles that got higher gas mileage— a law that would have significantly reduced the amount of gas being consumed and pollution put into the air, not to mention potentially saving consumers billions/trillions of dollars in fuel costs.
The results of actions like this and numerous others by politicians, corporations, and individuals, have resulted in modern humanity facing one of the most difficult challenges it ever has: Global Warming. This was dramatically brought home to me when I backpacked 750 miles down the Pacific Crest Trail in 2018 to celebrate my 75th birthday, dodging huge fires in Oregon and California. A drought created by climate change had killed millions of trees and those trees were burning.
The massive Carr Fire near Redding,California sent fire tornadoes shooting into the air, reduced visibility dramatically, and filled the air with health-damaging smoke for hundreds of square miles. (New research released this week suggests that wildfire smoke may emerge as a key driver of lung and other cancers.) This was the view I faced on my hike down the PCT near Chester, California.
Earth day 2026 is an excellent time to take stock of where we are in our efforts to protect the environment. The news is not good. Instead of the three steps forward and one step back of our past history, it feels more like we have taken four steps back to a pre-1970 status.
Under President Trump’s insistence, our national government has withdrawn from international efforts to combat global warming, and worked to eliminate many of the environmental protection laws that we fought so hard to enact over the last 56 years. It has backed away from supporting science designed to measure the impact of pollution and global warming, and discouraged federal agencies from monitoring and reporting on such impacts. It has also systematically worked to dismantle the EPA, weaken efforts to protect endangered species, and opened public lands set aside for our use and the use of future generations for mining, drilling, and logging operations. While the President has done everything he can to support oil, gas, and coal interests, he has simultaneously withdrawn support from more environmental friendly solar and wind energy development. The list goes on and on.
Continuing down this path will once again lead to air filled with pollution, waterways poisoned, wilderness areas eliminated, and species exterminated. It may well lead to millions of human lives lost as well as global warming continues unchecked. This isn’t an exaggeration; it is reality.
But it doesn’t have to be. The time to renew our commitment to the Earth is today.
Each of us can act on the personal level to reduce our own negative impact on the environment, support positive efforts on the local, state, national and world level, encourage businesses to think beyond the maximizing of profits to acting responsibly in terms of the social and environmental costs of their efforts, and demand that our political leaders take a strong stand favoring a healthy Earth and a healthy future for humanity and all of life, regardless of which political party they represent.
There may yet be a beautiful world for our children and grandchildren, and future generations to enjoy.
Art comes in many forms at Burning Man— from massive sculptures, to mutant vehicles, impressive buildings, costumes, performances, photography, murals, etc. There is no other place in the world that inspires as much creativity for a one week period.Today, I am going to consider some of Peggy and my favorite sculptures from our 12 years of visiting The Black Rock Desert. Where else could one find oil tankers welded together?Or Medusa.Not a ‘do’ you could get (or want) from your local hairdresser.Can you imagine the amount of work that goes into putting these creations together?While Medusa may give you nightmares, many of the sculptures are created with a sense of humor. Meet the Queen Bee with enormous boobs.Or join me as I photograph the nostrils of the sphinx…You probably didn’t see this coming.A 20 foot tall goofy rabbit. (Tom Lovering took this photo.)As I recall, these colorful characters were outside the Silicon Valley Village. Was there a message for us? The one on the left looks a bit like Elon.I really liked this dog.And these cats.It isn’t surprising that a flying saucer crash landed at Burning Man. It is located, after all, in the Nevada desert and all the ETs wandering around have to come from somewhere. This baby flying saucer, on the other hand, was a bit surprising.Was the Man keeping an eye on Junior from his flying saucer perch? There is plenty of mischief one can get into around Burning Man. Adult supervision is required…(Photo by Tom Lovering)Like dancing to this wild rabbit fiddling away at Center Camp. It’s not the dancing that would impact baby flying saucer, it was dancing into the wee hours as Burners do. Babies need their sleep. (Photo by our friend Don Green.)This guy, listening to the rabbit, came close to losing his pants while getting down to boogie.The little fellow might run into a dragon.Or, worse, a dragon guarding its egg! That’s one ferocious momma.Best to pass by when it’s sleeping.Then, there is pitchfork man who was seriously unbalanced…And monstrous bugs hatching and spreading out over the Playa. (Photo by Don Green.)One certainly wouldn’t want to run into this horny spider with crossed swords after dark.Or a Texas longhorn emerging from the Playa.The little guy needn’t worry, however. There is plenty of love at Burning Man.The key is letting go of your ego…And believing. For example, this monster robot was just out walking with his dog and carrying a flower.The large pink rabbit let a little kid run up and hug its leg.And the giant butterfly invited folks to relax and enjoy the view. (Photo by Don Green.)A 50 foot tall couple was willing to share hugs…And the ferocious looking Coyote was only howling at the moon.Babies (inner children) reached out to each other, providing hope…And lots of aliens cleverly disguised as topless Burners were available to look out for baby saucer. (Otherwise, they might be stuck on Earth, which they had serious doubts about at this time.)A lighthouse was available to provide guidance…To wherever in the world the little guy might want to travel…There were plenty of bicycles to borrow for local transportation (some fixing required).And a rocket ship to provide a boost into outer space if needed.Woohoo!And now that the baby flying saucer has been taken care of, here are some of our other favorite Burning Man sculptures…These blocks seemed to be reaching for infinity…A head made of bricks was Earthy, according to his forehead.A mask with glowing eyes stared out at passing Burners. Not sure what this was meant to signify, but it has always been a favorite of mine. One wonders where all of the Burners are. But if you get far enough out on the Playa, they are few and far between. Big feet, big heart? Yes, there is a person up there. A general rule at Burning Man is, if it can be climbed, it is climbed.Ghost tree made out of bones. No climbing this. A sign told Burners to stay off. But….no guarantees.Mirror image. Every time we passed by this sculpture, someone was taking a selfie. Usually posing. I took a photo of myself taking a photo of myself while sitting on my bike. Flight.Lotus flower with a distant view, which brings us to…Giants. This was from 2006 Burning Man. Several giant male and female statues were facing an oil derrick. The oil tankers shown at the beginning were from the same year. “Hope and Fear: The Future” was the theme.The human body has fascinated artists forever. Burning Man was blessed with these sculptures. There were three in the series. This was known as Truth Is Beauty.And she was beautiful at night as well as during the day. The sculpture was constantly changing color.R-Evolution was another of the three giant sculptures by Michael Cochrane. A close up. Note the internal structure, which also shows up prominently in the two photos above.And finally, Bliss. My favorite because she is obviously having fun.I’ll conclude with this close up. I had fun playing with both the form and colors. Like much that happens at Burning Man, these sculptures rightfully received world-wide attention. I was surprised to find that one of my photos even showed up in a French poetry magazine. (They didn’t ask, but they did give credit.)Next in the Burning Man Focus Series, we’ll take a look at the striking and unusual Temples of Burning Man.
On Thursday, I’ll post the next in my UT-OH! blog-a-book series: The tale of how MC the Cat barely avoided having his danglies cut off, which, much to his dismay, would have ended his tomcatting ways.
Burning Man’s theme for 2026 is Axis Mundi, Latin for axis of the world. Above, is an artist’s rendition of what the base of the Man of Burning man will look like this year.
Each year, Burning Man (BM) asks artists to submit artistic designs for what the Man might look like based on the theme. The winner for 2026 was submitted by Alexander (Zander) Rose, a Burner from the Bay Area with BM roots that go back all the way to 1996. His design is based on Japan’s national tree, Cryptomeria japanica, a cedar tree that can live to be over 2000 years old. An outer spiral staircase will take Burners 60 feet up to the base of the man. An inner spiral staircase will take them back down, creating the double helix of DNA, representing our past, present and future.
Every year at Burning Man (BM) is different. That’s what creativity is all about— and creativity is an important part of what makes BM special. The theme helps drive the creativity. Artists bringing their work to the event and tribes, people camping together who share a common interest, are asked to consider the theme when creating their works and designing their camps.
A rendition of what the 2026 Man will look like at night. The lights in the distance represent Black Rock City, a community of 50-70,000 people that surrounds the Man in a semi-circle. Axis Mundi represents a cosmic connection between Heaven, Earth and the Underworld in mythology. In more modern terms we might think of earth, our atmosphere and the universe, or our inner-connectedness with each other, nature, and the universe. For a number of cultures, and BM 2026, it is symbolized by a giant tree. Note the Man peeking out from the lower limbs.
The Burning Man Journal notes that the event will demonstrate the relationship by “celebrating the interconnectedness of our global community, the new social realities we are creating together, and our enduring ties to the natural world.” While the statement relates primarily to the Burner community, a quote from Albert Einstein was added that broadens the concept to all of us:
“A human being is a part of the whole, called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.”
While Einstein gives us a seemingly impossible task given the world of divisiveness we now face and the powerful people who profit politically and financially from it, Peggy and I believe that the kind of unity implied by Burning Man and Einstein is a goal we must never give up striving for. Darkness lies on the other side.
This focus series has several purposes. For newbies, or Virgin Burners as they are known, it will provide an overview of some of the things they will find at Burning Man, for veterans (and some of my followers) a nostalgic look back, for all others who find their way to this series for whatever reason, some insights into the magic that has given the event its world-wide renown. My focus will be on art, mutant vehicles, the Man, the Temple, people and activities, the desert setting, Black Rock City, and Burning Man at night.
Today I will be using 2023, the last year Peggy and I went, to introduce the series. Going forward, each post will include one to two focus areas with photos taken from the different times we have journeyed out to the Black Rock Desert. Starting in 2004, I’ve been 12 times and Peggy 7. Mine have included 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2009, 2010, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2017 and 2023. I began writing about the experience when I joined WordPress in 2010. Since then, I’ve featured BM in over 200 posts.
Now, a few thoughts for first timers. The Burning Man web site is filled to the brim with good advice on what to bring and what to expect. BM has been located in the Black Rock Desert for 35 years. That represents a ton of experience. You will want to follow its recommendations. The desert can be a harsh environment.
For example: Expect massive dust storms. One minute my view at BM 2023 looked like this.And five minutes later the view had disappeared altogether. It was a time for staying in place, donning our goggles, and wearing a neckerchief over my nose and mouth. It usually blows over in a few minutes, but I have been at Burning Man when it has lasted much longer. You can get lost wandering around. High winds often accompany the dust storms. Tents and awnings not well secured may take flying lessons.Just when you think you have mastered everything the desert has to throw at you, something like this comes along: The rainstorm of 2023. Check out their feet. The desert mud acts like Gorilla Glue!BM veteran advice from Peggy. “The mud doesn’t stick to plastic.” Here’s another use for some of those plastic bags you have brought along to carry out your trash.
Having introduced some of the challenges, all in all, Burning Man is an incredible experience. In fact, veteran Burners even talk of the challenges they have faced over the years with fondness. One way to help assure a good experience is to follow the Burning Man credo; It is a participatory event, not a spectator event. Come and join the fun. Bring a costume and something to share. Nothing is for sale at the event except ice and something to pump the poop out of your RV, if you bring one. But everywhere you turn, camps and individuals are offering food, drinks, and a multitude of other things— for free. One year a young woman was passing through Center Camp offering to cool down Burners by rubbing ice on their necks. It felt great! You can attend interesting talks and even learn new skills ranging from pole dancing to twirling a hula hoop, or fire. And you can share the skills you have. Volunteer to help with the event. There are dozens of opportunities.
Individual reactions to Burning Man cover a wide spectrum. As a newbie, you may find you absolutely love it. When you arrive home afterwards, you are excited to share the experience with friends and family. You immediately start planning to go the next year. Or you may find yourself saying “Wow, that was an experience. I’m glad I came but I don’t need to come again.” Or, you may be asking, “Why oh why did I decide to come here? I don’t need dust in my nose, eyes, and mouth. I want my toilets to flush. I don’t need the desert heat and desert cold, mud that sticks to my shoes, people everywhere, and drum-heavy metal/rock/industrial music that blasts away to the wee hours of the morning!”
But even if you hate it, think of the stories you will be able to tell your grandkids. For example:
“Great-great grandpa may have walked three miles through deep snow to get to school, but that was nothing compared to walking to the porta potty durning the Burning Man deluge of 2023! Mud was everywhere. It stuck to your shoes like a tick on a dog. The sewage trucks couldn’t make it in to empty the porta potties. They were filling up with poop. Horror of horrors! Luckily, someone had posted cartoons on the walls to take our minds off of the horror and remind us of civilization.”But enough fun. Let’s move on to some of the things we found special about Burning Man 2023: the kind of things that bring Burners back to the Black Rock Desert again and again.The Man, after which Burning Man is named, dominates the Playa and Black Rock City. No trip to Burning Man is complete without a journey out to the site. Climbing up inside often provides interesting art and always a great view. While the Man himself remains the same every year, the base and surrounding space is changed to reflect the annual theme.The 2023 Man at night. The lights in front are from bicycles. It’s critical that you can be seen at night! The only forms of transportation at Burning Man are bikes, your feet, and mutant vehicles. The vehicle you arrived in must be parked for the week. Most burners travel by bicycle. Decorating them is a Burning Man tradition.Another must see building at Burning Man is the Temple where Burners memorialize loved ones and pets who have passed on, confess everlasting love, and say thank you. When the Temple is burned at the end of the week, the messages go up in flames. While not religious, the Temple definitely has a sacred feel to it and is always, uniquely beautiful.Being partially hidden by a dust storm increased the mystical feeling of the 2023 Temple.Different times of the day present the Temple in a different light. Peggy and I like to visit in the early morning and evening as well as during the day. It’s always located on the Playa behind the Man. It was a four mile plus round trip for us in 2023. Thus the need for bicycles.This is a 2023 map of Burning Man. The Man is at the center above Center Camp and the Temple in the circle above. The grid shows the streets of Black Rock City. The open space is the Playa. As for all the numbers, they represent art installations. As I mentioned above that people come to Burning Man for a variety of reasons. Maybe it is to dance around the clock for 7 days with well-known DJs providing the music through gigantic speakers. We come to enjoy, appreciate, and photograph the art. As you might imagine, it is close to a full time job.The Playa is the central location for much of the art. Most of the pieces are in sculpture form. The creativity is unending. Burners are climbing up into the house/creature. (I’m not sure I’d want to do that if the beast was hungry.) Much of the art is interactive, designed to be explored in various ways.The head of the house/beast.Speaking of interactive, this piece was designed to turn so the creatures could be matched up with the appropriate parts. Roar and Neigh suggest a lion and a horse, neither of which has any of their parts as the sculpture stands now! The Burning Man Theme for 2023 was “Animalia”, celebrating the “animal world and our place in it”. Many of the sculptures, like this one, represented the theme.They could be striking, like Pegasus, whose wings flapped and legs moved…Or something else, as this ancient rain god. I may be making up the rain god part, but something had to bring the rain. Nice tongue.Another rain god, for sure.Burners could walk into this giant bear where mirrors provided opportunities for them to see themselves from a number of different perspectives.This interesting sculpture was built by Ukrainian Burners to reflect their country’s reaction to the Russian invasion of their country. A number of soldiers who died fighting to protect their country from tyranny were memorialized in the photos.Winged victory seen during the day and …And at night. Most of the sculptures shown during the day are lit up at night, some beautifully so.Another example: Fish sculpture during the day…And at night from the other direction. The Man and distant lights of Black Rock City provide the background.A chalice with a key hole. Made large…And a tea pot. Peggy and I have dozens of more photos representing the art of Burning Man in 2023 that we were able to catch before the weather went bad. There were dozens more that we never got to. This is simply a small sample of the breadth of what one can find at BM.Another fascinating example of creativity at Burning Man are mutant vehicles. A special permit is required to bring one to the event. They range in size from large, designed to carry a lot of people to…Small personal vehicles. The rule is that they can’t resemble the original vehicle from which they are built.Three more examples from 2023: An elephant…A VW bus that had morphed into a flying green something with antlers propelled by wings and a giant jet engine…A Texas Longhorn. Like sculptures, mutant vehicles are often lit up in interesting ways at night. It’s not unusual to find several dragons— or an octopus— wandering the Playa and blasting out fire.While the Playa may be the place to go to see the majority of the art and mutant vehicles, exploring Black Rock City— a city of that is literally built in the Black Rock Desert prior to the event and taken down afterward— could easily keep you occupied for the whole time. Several large structures like this one, are built by major tribes, to house the tribes along the Esplanade, but also offer a wide range of things all Burners are invited to participate in. This ‘frog-like’ creature with a third eye easily fit into the 2023 Animalia theme. As you might expect with 70,000 people, things can get a little crowded at Burning Man, but free space is provided for everyone. Tribes have designated areas, assuming you jump through the BM hoops and qualify. For everyone else, it’s find your own spot. The later you arrive in the week the farther out from the Playa you will be! Black Rock City’s resemblance to a huge parking lot is obvious, but it’s a well organized parking lot. The map above that featured the art shows the layout. The roads that follow around the semi-circle are given names that reflect the theme. The roads cutting through are assigned numbers. Assuming you have memorized yours road’s name and number, or written it down, you will be able to find your home. Otherwise….A close up of the 2023 roads. How would you like to live on Dingbat and 9:30? The street numbers are below.Walking/biking up and down the roads and streets is an interesting way to wile away a few hours. For example, you might find yourself at the Habitat for Insanity.Or the Gypsy Nebula Carnival. Come evening there will be loads of places you can stop for a free drink. Bring your own cup.You can expect to meet interesting creatures along the way as well. Like Falcor, the Goodluck Dragon of “Never Ending Story.”Or King Kong He’s been to Burning Man many times as his condition suggests. It’s not easy being a giant ape in the desert.In the end, it’s the people who make Burning Man Special. The veterans, the newbies, the artists, the builders, the planners, and your next door neighbors. Everyone. The dreamers and the desert. Here, two of our neighbors take a photo with the world traveling Bone. Even though he has been to 50 countries, Burning Man is still his all-time favorite place.
Here’s hoping you make it to BM2026. My next several Monday posts will continue my Focus Series look at Burning Man, exploring in detail the various aspects of the event I have introduced today. Next week, I’ll start with mutant vehicles.
On Thursday, I will continue my blog-a-book memoir and describe how I hired the family pets to protect me from the ghosts that wandered into our backyard from the graveyard next door. There were pros and cons.
Poor Pat. Living with me did have its drawbacks, especially when I had a camera in hand. Being a rescue dog, however, she was eternally grateful and willing to pose for me. Reluctantly. She was a bit large for the army cot I slept on outside in the summer. But she was great at scaring away the ghosts. A cocker spaniel and at least one cat joined her.
Our blogs each year, for the most part, are based on our wandering ways. We kicked off 2025 with a trip to the Big Island of Hawaii where we stayed in a VRBO 30 miles outside of Hilo for a month, rented a car, and explored the island. Spring and summer found us wandering through the Southwestern US for five months, pulling a small trailer behind our truck, and visiting national parks and monuments. In October/November, we left the trailer behind at our home base in Virginia and traveled for three weeks through New England admiring the beautiful fall colors.
Our next three posts will be devoted to doing our yearly wrap-up of our travels— based on our annual calendar. Each year we select 13 photos from among what we consider our best travel photos for use in a calendar we create for our extended family. This year we created three: one for each of the areas we visited. Family members got to choose which calendar they wanted. The photos for today’s post were selected for our Hawaii Calendar. The orchid above is one of numerous different species found at the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden just outside of Hilo. We highly recommend a visit if you travel to the Big Island. Over 2000 tropical plants are found in the garden.
Big leaves are expected whenever one travels in tropical rainforests. Having served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in tropical Africa for two years, I can speak to this personally. Peggy and I were particularly impressed by the beauty, size, and importance of taro leaves to native Hawaiians. Served as a food staple thoughout the islands, Taro is also important in Hawaiian mythology where Taro is regarded as the ‘Elder Brother’ of humankind.If you are a crossword buff, you will know the name of this bird: Meet nene, the native goose of Hawaii.While we photographed a number of birds, as always, we found this slender golden plover particularly attractive. It hardly looks like it is up to a 3000 mile journey to get here each year, but it is. Breeding and raising its chicks in the arctic each summer, it makes the 3000 mile journey to Hawaii each August/September where it will live and feed until April/May when it will make its return journey to the far north. A couple of other facts we found interesting: It often flies non-stop and it always returns to the same location. We would likely find this same bird here if we traveled back to the Big Island this year!Any discussion of the wild birds of Hawaii almost always includes chickens which arrived in the Hawaiian Islands with the Polynesians around 1200 AD, went wild, and have since interbred with modern chickens brought over in the 19th and 20th centuries. We found this gorgeous fellow wandering around in the forest near us.The anole is another interesting member of the Hawaiian wildlife. We had been shopping at a local supermarket when we came out and found the colorful lizard on the hood of our rental car. I suggested that it might want to relocate but it refused, even when we were driving 50 miles per hour down the road. Turns out that anole lizards have specialized toe pads covered with millions of tiny, microscopic hairs that create molecular attraction with slick surfaces. They are related to the iguanas I featured three weeks ago and even come with dewlaps.We were fortunate to find the Kīlauea Volcano active during our visit in February. We watched as it spewed lava 300-400 feet into the air. By November, it was shooting lava as high as 1500 feet!Isaac Hale State Park was located 15 minutes away from where we were staying south of Hilo in the small development of Seaview on the coast. The park was the end of the road for us. No sign was required. An eruption of a side vent on the lower east rift zone of Kīlauea sent lava spreading out over 14 square miles in 2018, destroying 700 homes, blocking several several roads, and covering a portion of the state park before reaching the ocean. Residents of Seaview watched in fear at the time, hoping that the lava flowing a mile away wouldn’t reach their development. They lucked out.Having destroyed homes and blocked roads, the lava finally plunged into the ocean, sending steam high into the air and adding new land to the island. This is what it looks like today off of Isaac Hale State Park as waves from the Pacific Ocean roll in.With Hilo, Hawaii receiving over 100 inches of rain a year, it isn’t surprising that there are a number of waterfalls in the surrounding country. Rainbow Falls is actually located in the town.Coconut trees are a common sight in Hawaii.As are Banyan trees. This one was located in downtown Hilo.While we spent the majority of our time on the Hilo side of the Big Island, we did take a day to drive over to the Kona side, which is where most of the tourists hang out. We went to check out a petroglyph site we had been to before and visit the Puʻuhonua o Hōnaunau National Historical Park, or Place of Refuge. Ancient Hawaiians who broke sacred laws could flee to the site and find safety instead of death. A number of wooden carvings like these represent the Hawaiian gods that once protected the sanctuary.
That’s the overview for our trip to Hawaii. Next up is the Southwest.Our trip though the Southwest took us to three national parks and five national monuments. This photo is from Chiricahua National Monument in southeastern Arizona.
I want to give a special thanks today to Lauren Scott at baydreamerwrites.com who did a great review of my book, The Bush Devil Ate Sam. Lauren is a published poet and author of a children’s book. Her most recent works include King Copper and Cora’s Quest. King Copper is a touching collection of poems about her dog, a chocolate lab, that recently passed away. Cora’s Quest is a children’s book that follows a young fawn as she goes on a delightful journey of exploration through the woods with her parents— until she gets lost.(Don’t worry, the book has a good ending.) You can learn more about both books by visiting Lauren’s site listed above.
What I like most about Lauren is her humanity— her warm sense of caring. Here’s what she says about her writing: So, whatever genre I share with you, whether poetry, personal stories, fiction, or kid-lit, I hope you’ll discover a piece of writing that evokes a special memory or acts as a reminder that you are not alone living with your emotions. Maybe you’ll get a good laugh, after all, we know laughter is the best medicine. Or perhaps you’ll experience an ‘aha’ moment.
Beautiful leaves, but are any left on the trees?The answer was yes. These two photos were both taken at our cabin near Chazy, New York. The sunlight here reminded us that we still had a lot of leaf peeping to do.
Our West Chazy NY cabin was the second one on our tour. I already blogged about the first: Bare minimum: no electricity, no heat, no insulation, no water and an outhouse— all on the coldest day of our three week trip. The second was the direct opposite: A full kitchen, bathroom, sitting room, streaming TV, fun decorations, heat, and, I might add, excellent insulation. The owner, Shane, greeted us when we arrived and told us that he had put a dozen eggs in the refrigerator! “Our chickens are producing eggs faster than we can eat them,” he told us.” Let me know if you need more.” When we went online to give the cabin a five out of five, we were surprised that Shane had already been there and given us a five out of five as guests! Both cabins cost about the same to rent. It’s a tale of two cabins, a dickens of a story, if you will.
This stove serves as an example of what Shane had done in the cabin. He had taken a beautiful antique wood stove and modified it by putting a modern gas stove on top. It was the best of both worlds.Bedspread, pillow cases, curtains and rugs all included outdoor scenes packed with wildlife and country themes.There were also lots of crow decorations. This was due to the fact that Shane calls the cabin, the Crow’s Nest. In fact you can look up the cabin at Crow’s Nest, West Chazy, NY.We didn’t see any crows outside, but this banty rooster was strutting his stuff. He crowed about how he was inspiring the chickens to lay eggs. There were also goats, a white turkey, and the egg laying hens that guests could visit.The most common member of the bird family we found in the area were Canada Geese. There were dozens/hundreds of them. Everywhere. In creeks, small ponds, and Lake Champlain. No body of water was too small or too large. We noticed that they seemed a little skittish and headed into the water whenever we got close. We also wondered why they were hanging out near the Canadian border and hadn’t flown south. And then it dawned on us. They didn’t have passports, they didn’t haven’t visas, they didn’t have US citizen papers, and, worse, they were dangerous criminals: They pooped in public parks and on people’s lawns. The geese, frightened that we were ICE agents, prepared to fly back across the border on a moment’s notice.You are now cleared for flight on runway #1.Since the Vermont islands on Lake Champlain were a short drive away from Chazy, we made a day trip over to visit them. This gorgeous tree was right next to the Vermont Information Center. Peaceful, huh?This sign stood next to the tree. I was once exploring an ICBM site north of San Francisco when I heard a loud grinding noise. A large cover drew back and out came the missile with its nose pointed toward the sky. Scary, eh! That would have had me fleeing toward the mountains ( and probably peeing my pants), except I knew that the site was decommissioned and some type of visitor demonstration was scheduled.The islands are all connected by bridges and a road. The first Island we explored was Isle de Motte. It featured a large statue of Samuel Champlain, who the lake is named after, and a native. Both were holding rolled up documents, which I assume represented treaties between the Hurons, Algonquins and France. The allies were attacked by a large body of Iroquois when Champlain was first exploring the lake in 1609. Champlain saved the day by shooting two of the Iroquois chiefs with his flintlock. Note how the Indian wisely hid behind a rock while Champlain fearlessly faced the enemy. (One of the reasons the Americans were able to defeat the British during the Revolutionary War was that learned from the Indians.)An actual self-portrait done by Champlain of how he pictured the event. My thoughts are: Duck! But that wouldn’t be nearly as impressive to the folks back home. Champlain became known as the Father of New France while the Iroquois became forever enemies of the French, siding with the English during the French and Indian War.As Champlain used his muzzle to sight in on the Iroquois, I used a tree near his statue to sight in on the shore of New York State. Our cabin was about five miles away from the shore. The Adirondacks can be seen rising in the distance.A small attractive chapel that is part of St. Anne’s Shrine, stood just across the road from Champlain’s statue. For services, the large door in front opens up to a covered patio in front of the church where the congregation sits.We continued to have great water and fall tree views as we drove around the islands. The mountains in the distance are the Green Mountains of Vermont.Farm lands made up much of the property on the islands. Here, the corn had been harvested and farmers were getting ready for winter.Iorek, our truck, made a quick left turn into a small, self-service bakery run on the honor system. We picked out an apple pie and stuffed our money into the birdhouse door beneath the large $ sign. We actually made the pie last for three days, which was amazingly disciplined considering how yummy it was.A final photo from the lake area. It was now time to begin our journey across Vermont. We packed up the truck and sadly left our cabin in the woods, telling Shane we would likely be back, maybe for a month.Following back roads across northern Vermont toward Stowe, we continued to be treated to gorgeous leaf peeping treats.As many as we saw, there was no danger of burnout! This was an interesting combination of river, green, and one bright tree peering out of the dark shadows, caught by the sun. Gets your attention, huh.A fun part of photography is taking photos that can pull viewers into the photo. We felt that the straight lines of the harvested crop heading down to the green field and then the forest did it here.The tree line starting up close on the right and moving down into the distance also pulls viewers into the photo.Sheer color splashed across the photo by nature, like paint on a Jackson Pollock painting, works as well. Grin.Smugglers notch was so intriguing we did it twice. One reason was the beauty. Another was history. As the name suggests, it was used by smugglers. In 1807, when Thomas Jefferson embargoed trade with Canada because of conflict with Britain, Northern Vermont residents smuggled goods into Canada as a way to survive. Later, the gap worked as part of the Underground Railway moving escaped slaves to Canada. Finally, it kept Northern Vermonters in booze during Prohibition.Finally, as this sign suggests, the road is a challenge to drive. Up on top it turns into a narrow one way road that snakes its way around large boulders in hairpin tight curves that even Iorek had problems with. Sign after sign forbid large trucks from going across and provided convenient turn-around locations.Finally, everyone is required to drive through low-height barriers called chicanes that mimic the narrow road and tight curves. A sign informs drivers that if they can’t make it though, they won’t make it over the pass. This applies to tourists pulling trailers as well as 18 wheelers. Regardless of the precautions, several tractor trailers end up trying to get over and jackknifing on the curves each year, causing delays that can end up taking hours to clear. There’s a hefty $2500 dollar fine plus whatever it costs to get a tow truck (or tow trucks) up on top to solve the problem.Coming down off the pass, we got our first views of Stowe. If you don’t mind crowds of tourists and packed highways, a stop is definitely worth it. This photo shows its iconic New England Church that sits on the main street.A view of the church from downtown.Town Hall.What impressed Peggy and me the most, however, were the beautiful homes.I’ll conclude with Peggy’s favorite. In our next post we will finish our tour across Vermont, take you through New Hampshire and end in western Maine.Dairy goat farming, we learned along the way, is becoming a big thing in Vermont. This is the Sugar Plum Goat Dairy.
Wandering through Time and Place 