A Carnival of Mirrors… Burning Man’s 2015 Theme: Part II

January 10, 2016January 12, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 23 Comments

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most ferocious beast of all? Cat dreams. I thought this carnival poster at Burning Man 2015 was particularly relevant to the theme.

Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the most beautiful kitty of all? Or is that most ferocious? Cat dreams. This carnival poster at Burning Man 2015 made me smile. I thought it was perfect for the theme.

“From the looking glass to the selfie, people seek answers to the riddle of identity in their own reflections. Yet even the most perfect mirror shows only the persona, not the person.” Larry Harvey, cofounder of Burning Man

Do you ever look at yourself in the mirror and make faces? Come on, confess, I know you have. We are drawn to our image like a moth to flames. Sometimes we like what we see, other times— maybe not so much. I remember checking a mirror once when I had started my solo bicycle journey around North America. It scared the heck out of me. It was my second day out and I’d ridden 65 miles. My sole preparation for the trip had been to increase my daily consumption of beer from one to two cans a night. Somehow, I had missed the message that you are supposed to ride your bike before starting off on a 10,000-mile journey.

I could barely get off the bike that night. My right leg refused to reach high enough to get over the crossbar. It had gone on strike. Laughing so hard I almost fell down, I stumbled into the office of a cheap motel and got a room for the night. My first priority was a shower, even before I hit the restaurant across the road and ordered beer, lots of it. After taking my clothes off, I made the mistake of glancing in the mirror. A great white whale was staring back at me. It was both my persona and person. “You damn fool,” I said to the whale, “what in the world do you think you are doing?” It didn’t have an answer. I declared the third day of my six-month trip a layover.

There were lots of mirrors at Burning Man, playing off the Carnival of Mirrors’ theme and doing what they do best— encouraging people to stare at themselves. It was pretty humorous, especially when Burners started posing. I looked at as many mirrors as anyone, but I avoided ballerina and butt shots, wisely so.

Of all the mirror at Burning Man 2015, this one seem to attract the most attention for both posing and photo ops.

Of all the mirrors at Burning Man 2015, this sculpture by Kirsten Berg seemed to attract the most attention for both posing and photo ops. The irreverent thought of this woman displaying her best assets flitted through my mind.

“Hmmm, I wonder what I look like upside down,” this woman seemed to be saying. Or maybe she was praying “I hope I don’t fall down and break my head.”

On the other hand…

I am on the left, leaning over on the handle bars of my bike and amusing myself taking photos of people posing.

I made it into all of the photos, a sort of photo bomb waiting to happen. I am on the left, leaning over on the handle bars of my bike and amusing myself taking photos of people posing. The vastness of the Black Rock Desert spreads out behind me. The guy on the right is dutifully taking photos of the woman pretzel.

I also found more carnival posters where my friend Tom stood in as a model. Close by was a Museum of Cultural Appropriation and Dead Things. The latter would have fit right in to a circus sideshow.

This carnival poster is a takeoff on P.T. Barnum's first major hoax in the sideshow business, the Feejee Mermaid who had the tail of a fish and the head of the monkey. You may recall it was Barnum who said "You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all of the time."

This carnival poster is a takeoff on P.T. Barnum’s first major hoax in the sideshow business, the Feejee Mermaid, who supposedly had the tail of a fish and the head of the monkey. You may recall it was Barnum who said “You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can’t fool all of the people all of the time.”

While I am dealing with mermaids, this cigar chomping cutie represents the fact that tattoo covered people became a part of the sideshow business in the 1950s. Check out my blog on the Triangle Tattoo Museum in Fort Bragg, California if you haven’t already seen it.

As you might imagine, there are lots of tattoos on display at Burning Man. I was particularly impressed with this guy’s art.

My friend Tom Lovering, good naturedly posed with some of the sideshow art.

My friend Tom Lovering (known as Adios on the Playa), good-naturedly posed with some of the sideshow art. He was hoping for a little faith and charity.

Here, Tom checks out Eve’s apple (right?) afraid that she might offer him a bite.

I found Hammerhead at the Museum of Cultural Appropriation and Dead Things, where I also found Butthead, featured below.

Okay, I admit this is a little outrageous, and has no place in a decent blog like mine (grin), but it is exactly the kind of thing you would have found in the old carnival sideshows.

Okay, I admit this is a little outrageous, and has no place in a tame blog like mine (LOL), but it is exactly the kind of thing you would have found in the old carnival sideshows.

As you might expect at a circus or carnival, there were also entertainers galore, jesters, and clowns. I’ve always thought of Burning Man as a three-ring circus and Burning Man 2015 was hardly more so than any other year. The Center Camp Cafe and Black Rock City are constantly filled with people performing circus acts, Barnum and Bailey would have loved to feature mutant vehicles in their circus parades, and the entrance to the media tent at Burning Man 2015 would have made a great entry to a fun house (or political campaign?).

There is a great deal of talent at Burning Man and the Center Camp Cafe is always filled with people performing, as much for themselves as others.

I will have a whole blog, or maybe two or three, on mutant vehicles at Burning Man, but I thought this jester fit in here.

The perfect clown. Check out his eyes. (Photo by Don Green.)

My last photo for this essay. I loved the media tent, appropriately labeled the media circus. I almost expected to see the ‘The Donald’ or some other prominent politician hanging out there. The teeth drew back to provide a door.

NEXT BLOG: Where to go is the question? I think I will take you out to the Temple, one of the most beautiful ever at Burning Man.

Burning Man Themes… Reflecting the Mind of Larry Harvey

January 7, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 39 Comments

One of four gateways to the 2015 Burning Man Carnival. William Blake’s poem “Tiger, tiger, burning bright, In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?” was printed around the edge.

Larry Harvey created the first theme for Burning Man in 1995, ten years after he had co-founded the event. Ever since, he and his crew have been churning out a new topic every year. I picture him sitting somewhere in San Francisco, puffing away on his ever-present cigarette, and waiting for inspiration to strike. Finally, the proverbial light bulb flashes. Why don’t we make this year The Nebulous Entity, or Caravansary, or Beyond Belief? It would be interesting to track Harvey’s thought process.

The first theme was Good and Evil. Undoubtedly, there were costumed angels and devils wandering all over the Playa and Black Rock City. There still are. I recall one year when every other woman seemed to have sprouted wings. Maybe there was a sale on. I ran into a bit of good and evil myself at 2015’s Burning Man. I spun a wheel of fortune and was told, “you will soon discover if you are the good twin or the evil one.” Did I really want to know? Later I found a graphic sideshow poster of how it might look.

A wheel of fortune at Burning Man suggested I would soon find out whether I was a good or evil twin.

Carnival or sideshow art has been used for over a century to pull people into sideshows where all sorts of unusual sights were promised.

I must say, being evil looks a bit more interesting. Carnival or sideshow art has been used for over a century to pull people into sideshows where all sorts of unusual sights are promised.Vintage original art is now worth thousands of dollars to collectors.

Burning Man invites individuals, groups and artists to participate in and interpret its annual theme through their costumes, camps and creative works. Here’s a complete list of themes since 1995:

2016 — Da Vinci’s Workshop

2015 — Carnival of Mirrors

2014 — Caravansary

2013 — Cargo Cult

2012 — Fertility 2.0

2011 — Rites of Passage

2010 — Metropolis – The Life Of Cities

2009 — Evolution – A Tangled Bank

2008 — American Dream

2007 — The Green Man

2006 — Hope & Fear

2005 — Psyche

2004 — Vault of Heaven

2003 — Beyond Belief

2002 — The Floating World

2001 — The Seven Ages

2000 — The Body

1999 — The Wheel of Time

1998 — The Nebulous Entity

1997 — Mysteria

1996 — The Inferno

1995 — Good and Evil

The 2015 theme was built around the concept of carnivals and mirrors. A city of tents grew up around the Man featuring carnival posters, mirrors and games of chance. Four large gateways invited Burners in to where hucksters pushed their games of chance, or just strangeness. I checked my image in each of the mirrors but skipped the ring toss where the posts took on a definite phallic look. I stopped to watch a show where a talented acrobat displayed her skills, and I helped pull ropes that made a giant skeleton dance.

A devilish gateway into Burning Man 2015.

A devilish gateway into then Burning Man Carnival. Note: I arrived early at Burning Man this year before the crowds gathered. Many of the Carnival attractions and other installations throughout Black Rock City were still being set up.

I found this humorous guy hanging out inside.Nice tongue.

Taking a page from Dante's Inferno, this gateway switched the words from

Taking a page from Dante’s Inferno, this circus elephant gateway switched the words from “Abandon all Hope” to “Abandon all Despair.”

The fourth gate into the carnival was this nerdy looking young woman.

A stage in the carnival featured ongoing shows such as this flexible acrobat.

A large skeleton puppet had ropes that Burners could use to make the skeleton dance. Carnival poster art surrounded the Man and what Burning Man called its Fun House.

Following are three sideshow posters that I found particularly amusing including this tattooed cat.

Following are three sideshow posters that I found particularly amusing including this two-headed tattooed cat.

Ancient Aliens…

And a Playa Chicken.

My friend Don Green took this photo of the Fun House entrance. I will be featuring many of Don’s photos throughout this series.

Don seems a little worried about the doctor that was prepared to operate on him in one of the carnivals side tents.

I was taken with the detail in this painting that welcomed Burners into the Fun House. (See Don’s photo of the entrance above.)

A closeup of the face.

And even more detail featuring a gypsy woman.

And even closer shot featuring a gypsy woman with her incredible detail.

Various mirrors welcomed Burners inside the Fun House. I took this photo of Squirrels on my T-shirt. The caption was "Birdseed, what birdseed?"

Various mirrors welcomed Burners inside the Fun House. I took this fractured mirror selfie of my see-no-evil, speak-no-evil, hear-no-evil squirrels T-shirt. The backward caption is “Birdseed, what birdseed?”

A final shot for today, this one looking up at the Man from inside the Fun House.

The 2016 Theme, “Da Vinci’s Workshop,” is designed to draw a parallel between Medieval Florence and Burning Man in terms of art, technical innovation, and patronage. (No one has ever accused Larry Harvey of being shy, modest, or lacking in ambition when it comes to promoting Burning Man, but seeing Black Rock City as the equivalent to Florence, and as “the epicenter of a new renaissance,” is something of a leap.)

Still, the art being inspired by Burning Man is very impressive. And the 2016 Man being “surrounded by a public square, a piazza lined with workshops, each representing a guild…” with the guilds being “self-invented and devoted to the interactive manufacture of whatever participating artists and inventors can imagine, ” sounds like fun.

NEXT BLOG: We will travel into Black Rock City and out into the Playa to explore other ways the 2015 theme of Carnival and Mirrors was represented.

On the Road to Burning Man… Along with 70,000 Other People

January 3, 2016January 4, 2016 / Curt Mekemson / 31 Comments

Just a 30 foot robot boy walking his robot dog at Burning Man 2015. The boy holds a flower in his right hand that he raises up to his nose and 'smell.' The endless creativity at Burning Man has brought me back to event time and again over the years.

Just a 30 foot robot boy walking his robot dog at Burning Man 2015. The boy holds a flower in his right hand that he raises up to his nose and ‘smells.’ The endless creativity at Burning Man has brought me back to event time and again over the years.

I’ve been making the trek out to Black Rock City since 2004 and blogging about the experience for the past five years. Today marks the beginning of my series on the 2015 Burning Man event (along with more general stories). I’ve waited until now because January and February are the primary months when people will make their decisions about going in 2106 and begin to scramble for tickets.

Newbies, or Virgins as they are known on the Playa, are now scrambling around for every scrap of information they can find. Veteran Burners are thinking fondly of past years, or rambling on about the good old days— back when the Man was young and wild, back before he became an international icon and media darling, and back before Silicon Valley giants, Hollywood Stars, and other one-percenters started landing on the Black Rock Desert in their private planes.

If you’ve read my past blogs on Burning Man, you know that I am a big fan of the event, particularly of the art and creativity it generates. But I don’t make the decision to go lightly. Getting there can be expensive and cleaning up afterwards is always a chore. I can live with these challenges, however; they come with the territory. It’s obtaining a ticket that drives me wacko. BMO, the Burning Man Organization, has yet to figure out a way to make the experience painless or even fair. The challenge is that there are a lot more people who want to go than the 70,000 Bureau of Land Management limit.

I blogged last year about my Kafkaesque experience in trying to get tickets. I only ended up going because of the persistence of my friends Tom Lovering and Don Green. Tom found two tickets and a vehicle pass that weren’t outrageously priced (scalped) on Craig’s List the day before the event. Don made an hour trip from his home in Lafayette California to South San Francisco with a thousand dollars cash in his pocket to meet a guy he had never met at a Starbuck’s he had never been to— at midnight.

I had one day to get ready. Food for eight days had to be purchased, 40 gallons of water loaded, the van and bike prepped, baby wipes packed, and a load of gear ranging from goggles to costumes gathered up from numerous places around the house. Because Peggy had just returned from touring Cotswolds in England, she opted out of Burning Man. It was all about me. I scrambled.

Late-morning on Saturday found me waving goodbye to my best buddy. I was on the road to Burning Man! People come from all over the world to attend the event. Some travel thousands of miles. My trip is a mere 300, a short journey of around six hours. From Medford, I cut across the Cascade Mountains to Klamath Falls and then travelled southeast to Alturas in the remote northeast corner of California, cowboy country. I then crossed the Warner Mountains to the town of Cedarville, a small enclave that sits on the edge of the vast and lonely Nevada desert of the Great Basin. It is the final jumping off point for most Burners travelling to Burning Man from the Northwest US and western Canada.

Businesses along the route to Burning Man have learned that Burners are are a potential source of income. Pappy Gander's Restaurant in the small town of Merrill has a Burners welcome sign.

Businesses along the route to Burning Man have learned that Burners are a potential source of income. Pappy Gander’s Restaurant in the small town of Merrill, Oregon has a Burners Welcome sign.

I stopped for lunch and was amused to find this 'duck decoy' painting.

I stopped for lunch at Pappy’s and was amused to find this ‘duck decoy’ painting. BTW, that’s a mallard holding the shotgun.

I opted to spend the night at Cedarville, as I usually do. I prefer arriving at Burning Man during the day. Plus I like Cedarville. The folks in the small town welcome Burners with open arms. (We’re an important part of their local economy. A gas station owner once told me he obtains 50% of his annual income during Burning Man week.) An even better reason for staying was the Modoc County District Fair was underway, and I love county fairs. I parked Quivera (our van) next to the small town park where I planned to spend the night. I asked some folks coming out of a local church if the local sheriff would hassle me. “Hopefully he has better things to do with his time,” a man told me. “If he does bother you, just drive around the corner,” his wife added.

I quickly walked the two blocks to the fair entrance where I paid three bucks to get in. It would be hard to imagine a better use of my money. A three-person band was playing Pistol Packing Mama and other country-western classics in a free outdoor concert. I sat down on a wooden bench and listened. Pigs, goats and sheep greeted me at the animal barns. I wandered around looking at kids’ art, prized vegetables and other treasures that fill county fairs. I even said hi to Smokey the Bear before I returned to Quivera. I went to sleep to the sound of stock cars roaring around in the Annual Mud Race. It would prepare me for the nightly noise of Burning Man.

A horse came galloping across a pasture to greet me as I walked to the fair and gave me the eye. If I understand horse language correctly, it asked, “You wouldn’t happen to have a carrot in your pocket, would you?”

I sat under this attractive cover as I listened to Pistol Packing Momma. The barren looking mountain in the background is part of the Warner Range.

Goats have always been one of my top reasons for visiting county fairs. This fellow was very curious about my camera. Shortly afterwards he tries to nibble on my shirt.

Goats have always been one of my top reasons for visiting county fairs. This fellow was very curious about my camera. Shortly afterwards he tried to nibble on my shirt.

Pigs are also a major reason I visit fairs. I like to arrive when they are eating but missed this time. Still, their curly tails more than justified my visit. You might say they were hamming it up.

I often skip the sheep barn, but how could I resist taking a photo of them all dressed up? They were ready for a fashion runway.

You usually have to go to an Elementary School to find great art like this. I’m serious.

And how about these prize onions? A local farmer probably grew these in her backyard garden.

And finally a challenge. Less you have any doubt that this is horse and cowboy/cowgirl country, how many horses can you find in this collage?

I was up early to make the 80-mile drive across the desert to Gerlach, which is just ten miles from the entrance to Burning Man. Tom had said he and Don should arrive around 8 from Reno. I think they made it by 11. I hung out and watched thousands of Burners pass through town. It took us a couple of hours to make it the last few miles. I was sort of reminded me of being stuck in a LA freeway traffic jam. Almost.

Once you leave Cedarville and a couple of other even much smaller towns, this is the kind of country you see on the way to Burning Man.

For 50 weeks out of the year, Gerlach is a quiet town with about as much action as you see in this photo.

For one week out of the year, however, its streets are packed with Burners and thousands of vehicles pass through the town.

For one week out of the year, however, its streets are packed with Burners and thousands of vehicles of all types, sizes and shapes pass through the town. As the sign notes, Gerlach is the last chance to pick up any vital supplies, such as beer or water.

A large Bazaar (for Gerlach) is placed on the edge of town to supply almost anything a Burner might need, including…

Fine used bikes ideal for traveling across the dusty playa…

And the latest in Playa wear.

So let's say you reduce the number of RVs and bikes, put down pavement, and eliminate the dust storm, couldn't this resemble a traffic jam on an LA freeway.

So let’s say you reduce the number of RVs and bikes, put down pavement, and eliminate the dust storm, couldn’t this resemble a traffic jam on a LA freeway?

And then the dust storm hits. You can barely see the car in front of you. Can you imagine what might happen on that same LA freeway? In an hour or so we might even make the last three miles into Black Rock City.

NEXT BLOG: We arrive in Burning Man and I introduce the 2015 theme: A Carnival of Mirrors. Welcome to the circus.

Happy New Year to Our Friends in the Blogging World!

January 1, 2016December 31, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 47 Comments

Fireworks from Burning Man to welcome in the New Year.

Fireworks from Burning Man 2015 to welcome in the New Year.This is a side view of the Man just before he burns.

It’s that time of year when our lives are balanced on the edge of looking back and forward. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions so much as I look backward to see where I have been and forward to see where I am going. The two are obviously closely connected. Normally we continue down the same path; it is a deep rut we have created. But occasionally something knocks us off the beaten track, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Doors close; doors open. I try to live a life of no regrets, or at least as few as possible— life is precious. When I die, I want the last words on my lips to be, “Wow! What a trip,” not “Damn, I wish I would have…”

As bloggers, our lives are more open than most. We share the journeys we are on, both inward and outward— and you have shared much with me in 2015. I’ve been privileged to help raise goats in Virginia, romp with Milo in Australia, worry about a lost cat in England, and wander back in time to World War II. I’ve travelled to the world’s capitals and the remote corners of Africa, Europe, Asia, South America, North America, Australia and New Zealand with both old and new blogging friends. (Over a year qualifies as “old” in the blogging world.)

You’ve allowed me to see the world through your eyes in Nigeria, Knoxville, Southeast Texas, northern Oregon, and ever so many other places. I’ve stood beside you as you have fought Ebola in West Africa, hiked in Patagonia, travelled down the Nile by boat, snorkeled in Iceland and built houses in Nepal. Many of you are superb writers; you’ve shared your poetry and stories and causes as well as your adventures. And many of you are excellent photographers, sharing your life in pictures as well as words.

Thank you.

In return, I’ve taken you backpacking into the Grand Canyon, shared the craziness and beauty of Burning Man, and invited you into my home in southern Oregon. Peggy took you along on her exploration of the Cotswold in England, and I took you up the North Coast of California where we explored subjects ranging from the Grateful Dead to the world of tattooing. I suspect you recall my confrontations with the Nike Missile north of San Francisco. Iggy the Iguana wandered into our living room and onto my blog in Puerto Vallarta. And there were many more adventures. It was all fun for me. I was particularly excited and pleased to share the publishing of my book, The Bush Devil Ate Sam, about my experiences as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Liberia.

Of the many visitors to our home I blog about is the deer herd that lives in our backyard and has become quite fond of apples.

We travelled from the Bell Tower in Sedona...

We travelled from the beautiful red rock country of Sedona…

To this bower of trees at Point Reyes National Seashore.

Peggy took you on a trip to England that included Gloucester Cathedral hallway that was hues in Harry Potter.

Peggy took you on a trip to England that included a Gloucester Cathedral hallway that was used in Harry Potter.

While I took you to the Potter School in Bodega, CA that was used in Alfred Hitchcock’s film, The Birds.

Senor Iggy the iguana came to visit us when we were in Puerto Vallarta.

Altogether, according to WordPress, my posts had 94,000 views from 170 countries in 2015— not monumental in the world of blogging, but definitely enough to please this wanderer.

Here’s what’s on tap for 2016:

In January and February I will be blogging about Burning Man 2015 with added thoughts on Burning Man 2016
At the end of February, Peggy and I will be travelling to Alaska to see the kick-off of the Iditarod Sled Dog Race in Anchorage, and the World Ice Art Championships in Fairbanks, both of which I will blog about.
From mid-March through May, Peggy and I will make a 10,000-mile road trip around the US and Eastern Canada, retracing the route of my 1989 solo, six-month bicycle trek. I’ll be blogging about both the bike trip and the road trip as we travel.
From mid-July to mid-August I will be doing a 250-mile backpack trek from Kennedy Meadows to Mt. Whitney in the Sierra Nevada Mountains following the Pacific Crest Trail and the John Muir Trail. While I am out, I will be running blogs on past outdoor/wilderness treks. When I get back, I will do a series on the actual Trek. (I’ve done the trip several times, but at 73? Hmmm. Guess we’ll see.)
Late August should see us back at Burning Man. After that, who knows?

Here’s wishing each of you a happy and healthy New Year.

Curt and Peggy

NEXT BLOG: We will head off to Burning Man 2015 as promised.

Where Two Tattoo Artists and a Sword Swallower Came Together… Triangle Tattoo and Museum in Fort Bragg CA

December 27, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 29 Comments

I was met at the top of the stairs by the charming Madam Chinchilla who was tattooed from neck to feet.

I was met at the top of the stairs by the charming Madam Chinchilla of Triangle Tattoo and Museum who was tattooed from neck to feet.

I have always been a wanderer, happy to be on the road, excited to see new things. I still am. But blogging has changed my perspective. I think more about what will make a good story, and what photos I should take to illustrate the story. I do more research. Sometimes I think, “Damn! This resembles work.” Posts have to be written, photos processed, deadlines met. The thought passes quickly, however. Blogging has made my travels more meaningful and interesting. On occasion, it has even led me down paths I might never have taken. Today’s blog is a good example.

I was taking advantage of Starbucks’ free Wi-Fi in Fort Bragg, California to check in on my WordPress blog when a promotion came up listing “things to do in Fort Bragg.” I expected options like ‘visit Mendocino,’ or ‘go for a walk on the coast,’ etc. Much to my surprise and bemusement, number one on the list was a tour of the Triangle Tattoo and Museum at 356 N Main Street. It caught my attention. I had never been in a tattoo parlor, much less a tattoo museum. The thought of someone scratching an animal, flower, skull, naked woman, snake, dragon, Mother, or even Popeye the Sailor Man on me sends my skin scooting away in hasty retreat. I am a wimp when it comes to such things. Even a trip to the dentist seems like more fun.

If ever there was a symbol of sailors and tattoos it was the spinach eating Popeye the Sailor Man, who yam what he yam. (Photo from Triangle Tattoo Museum.)

The walls of Triangle Tattoo in Fort Brag are covered with traditional tattoo art. I would have to be drunk, knocked out, and tied down to have a tattoo of a skull or Mother scratched on my body.

The walls of Triangle Tattoo in Fort Bragg are covered with traditional tattoo art. I would have to be drunk, knocked out, and tied down to have a tattoo of a snake, skull or Mother scratched on my body…

Or even a dragon with a scantily clad woman.

But I was hooked. I had to go. I packed away my laptop, pulled out my camera, and headed downtown. I didn’t have a clue what I was getting myself into, which often makes for the very best adventures. I was greeted by a wonderfully garish stairway and begin my climb upward, nervously.

The entrance to Triangle Tattoo pulls you in and up the stairs. I was fascinated about what I might see next.

Side show poster art at Triangle Tattoo in Fort Brag.

One thing I found was circus side-show poster art. Tattooed men and women were once prime circus attractions. (I believe this was done by Captain Don Leslie, the sword swallower.)

Madam Chinchilla was waiting for me at the top.

Whatever I was expecting, she wasn’t it— she is an absolutely delightful, attractive, and charming woman in her late 60s, tattooed from head to toe. Over the next hour she served as my tour guide. We started out at the business end of the parlor where Mr. G., her partner in the business since 1986, was busily tattooing his pharmacist. Next she took me into her studio and told me to take all of the pictures I wanted. The walls were covered with photos of her life and interests. There was even a picture of her mom, proudly displaying some fish she had caught.

Madam Chinchilla in her studio. A large elephant tusk, which she was quick to point out was not made of ivory, stood behind her. A strong Oriental theme is found throughout the room.

A close up of the tusk with an appropriate dragon.

A close up of the tusk with an appropriate fire-breathing dragon.

Madam Chinchilla’s exotic studio.

One of many photos I found of Mr. G. and Madam Chinchilla in her studio room.

Madam C’s mom proudly displays fish she caught as a young woman.

The museum reflected tattooing down through the ages and within various cultures. Masks reminded me of my time in West Africa as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I thought of Sam, the young man who worked for me, and the scarification/tattoos on his chest that represented marks made by the Bush Devil’s teeth, an experience reflected in my book title about my Peace Corps experience: The Bush Devil Ate Sam. Modern tattoo machines are much more sophisticated than whatever tool was used to carve Sam’s skin. The control of depth, speed, and force of the needle allowed by tattoo machines has turned tattooing into an art form.

The doorway to the Triangle Tattoo Museum. You are welcomed by native masks.

The doorway to the Triangle Tattoo Museum. You are welcomed by traditional native masks.

A close up of the masks.

12 African mask from Ivory Coast owned by Curtis Mekemson

I brought this African Medicine mask home with me when I returned from being a Peace Corps Volunteer in West Africa. Note the tattoo marks above and below the eyes.

The tattoo machines on the right are capable of producing sophisticated body art. Feathers are extra.

There is more to the museum than tattooing, however. Numerous photos and artifacts, such as boots and a sword, serve as a memorial to Captain Don Leslie, a world-renowned sword swallower and circus sideshow attraction. Madame Chinchilla and Mr. G had befriended Captain Don in 1986 when they had first started their tattoo business. It was a friendship that had grown and lasted up until the Captain passed away in 2007. His presence is still very much felt at Triangle Tattoo. In 2010, Madam Chinchilla published a biography on Leslie that she had co-written with Jan Hinson. I bought a copy, which I read that night and was immediately transported back in time to when the circus came to town.

Captain Don Leslie, sword swallower. Captain Don began his career by running away and joining a circus as a teenager. Both his sword swallowing and tattoos served as draws to circus side shows.(From a photo at Triangle Tattoo and museum.)

Captain Don’s first sword he ever swallowed and his boots hang on display at the Triangle Tattoo and Museum. Madam Chinchilla described how Captain Don would join Mr. G. and her for each Fourth of July Parade in Fort Bragg. Madam C. and Mr. G would drive their pink Cadillac. Captain Don would walk in front, with sword in hand and breathing fire. What a show it must have been.

Diagram of sword swallowing by Captain Don Leslie

Don’t do this at home. A graphic made by Captain Don displays the anatomy of a sword swallower. How do you swallow a sword? “Very carefully,” he notes. But the question remains…

Captain Don Leslie, sword swallower extraordinaire

How do you swallow several swords? Captain Don also mastered breathing flames, laying on a nail bed, and walking on glass. (Taken from a photo in Madam Chinchilla’s biography of Captain Don.)

Madam Chinchilla holds the book she wrote on Captain Don.

Inscription in the biography of Captain Don Leslie

Madam Chinchilla’s inscription to me in Captain Don’s book. I truly enjoyed the museum. If you get to Fort Bragg, it is definitely worth a stop. And the hospitality is great! Thanks Madam C.

As I was leaving the museum, Madam Chinchilla left me with two thoughts. One was that “the human body is a historical site for the inscription of culture and its history/herstory.” The other was about how popular tattooing has become— it is now mainstream. Judging from all of the tattoos I see around me, I have to agree, but I am still not going to offer my body up as a tattoo artist’s canvass.

NEXT BLOG: This blog completes my North Coast series but provides an excellent introduction to my Burning Man series. I am running it now to coincide with the time that Burners prepare to buy their 2016 tickets. The 2015 theme was Carnival and is the subject of my first blog. Captain Don would have loved it. In fact he would have quickly become a main attraction. Join me.

Mendocino, California… A North Coast Treasure

December 18, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 21 Comments

If you were a fan of Murder She Wrote, you might recognize this house. It’s where Jessica Fletcher lived in the imaginary town of Cabot Cove, Maine. It is actually found in Mendocino, California. Now you can stay there. It is the Blair House B&B.

Whenever I am near the small town of Mendocino, I make a point of visiting. It is one of my favorite communities on California’s beautiful and rugged North Coast. Its unique, almost quaint look, has made it a favorite among Hollywood movie directors looking for the ideal coastal location for their films. It has starred in several movies including East of Eden where it became California’s Monterey and The Summer of 42 where it was transformed into a New England town.

Its best-known role, however, was as the small Maine town of Cabot Cove where Jessica Fletcher (Angela Lansbury) lived and was forever solving crimes in the TV series Murder She Wrote. Nine episodes of the 12-year, 264 series were actually filmed on location and almost all of the episodes included shots of the town and surrounding areas.

This was Sheriff Mort Metzger’s home in Murder She Wrote. Now it serves as the Mendocino Visitor Center. The Pacific Ocean is in the background.

I drove south on Highway 1 to Mendocino from where I was staying in Fort Bragg for a few days on my North Coast trip in August. The region is filled with parks and lots of memories. One was particularly memorable. Peggy and I were camped in our van on a small river. It rained cats and dogs all night, or make that whales and elephant seals. I woke up and looked out our van window in the morning. A seagull was swimming by! Waves were lapping at our tires. We vacated the premises— quickly.

Dark and stormy nights have been particularly harsh on ships sailing up and down California, Oregon and Washington’s rocky coast, especially in the days before satellites and GPS. To counter the danger, a series of lighthouses and foghorns had been placed along the coast. In memory of the time our van Quivera almost became a shipwreck, I stopped off at Point Cabrillo Light Station State Historic Park just north of Mendocino and walked the half-mile out to the lighthouse. It is still doing its duty but automation has long since put the lighthouse keeper out to pasture. His house has now become a museum and his assistant’s house has become a guest cottage that visitors can rent. I paid homage to the days of yore and drove on to Mendocino.

The Point Cabrillo Lighthouse. Those are fog horns pointed out to sea that you see on the front.

The automated, ever-rotating light on top of the lighthouse.

Where the lighthouse keeper once lived.

I took this photo on my walk out to the lighthouse.

The community started out as a logging town with a dog hole port in the 1850s, as so many North Coast towns did. Dog hole refers to the size of the port. If you’ve ever watched a dog turn around to fit into a bed it has scratched out in the dirt, you get the idea. Like the dog in his hole, the ship had just enough space to turn around. Given the additional challenge of steep cliffs, logs were loaded onto ships via a slide that reached down to the deck.

I found this photo of Mendocino’s historic log slide in the Visitor’s Center. The end could be lowered to load the logs onto a ship that would then take them to San Francisco. I am not sure I would want to be on the receiving end.

Mendocino was first named Meiggsville after Henry Meiggs, a San Francisco entrepreneur who had come west to make his fortune in the California Gold Rush. Anything with dollar signs attached had attracted his attention. Redwood lumber needed to build the rapidly growing San Francisco fit the description— as did an opportunity to defraud the city. Before the sheriff could catch up with him, however, Meiggs had skipped out to South America where he made a fortune building railroads and became the “virtual dictator of Peru” according to Wikipedia.

Meiggsville was renamed Mendocino after the cape it is located on and did quite well for the next hundred years selling lumber until the timber industry crashed and it became a backwater town with little money and fewer people. Artists discovered it in the 50s, as they often do when a place is both beautiful and inexpensive. Tourists weren’t far behind. Inexpensive no longer describes Mendocino, but the town has retained its beauty and still has a thriving art community.

I did what I always do in Mendocino: walked up and down the streets, hiked along the coast, bought my quota of books at the Gallery Bookstore, and scarfed down a delicious meal.

An hour or so can easily be spent wandering around the small town. The historic buildings have been well preserved, and repurposed. This is the Gallery Bookshop, one of the best found on the coast. I always go there first.

An hour or two can easily be spent wandering around the small town. The historic buildings have been well preserved, and repurposed. This is the Gallery Bookshop, one of the best found on the coast. I always go there first. The sign features a bookstore cat.

Shops feature everything from crafts to very good art. I found this cat in a shop next to the book store and was amused/impressed by the creative use of chicken wire.

Mendocino features a number of gorgeous, historic homes. Many have been turned into B&Bs.

This early home fits the description of “tiny homes” being built today. There was a sign next to it I found touching:” Watch out for the old dog.” Had I seen him/her, its photo would be next. (grin)

But I found this ‘old’ two car garage a decent substitute.

A number of water towers and even a windmill reflect the difficulty that original residents had in obtaining and keeping water. Their presence adds to the unique look of Mendocino.

Chinese were among the first inhabitants of Mendocino and this Chinese temple from the 1800s is one of the oldest. It was closed so I took this photo through the window.

The foggy, moist climate of the coast is great for growing things and attractive landscapes are found throughout the town.

And finally, the Mendocino Headlands form the backdrop for Mendocino. Any visit to the town should include a walk along the coast.

NEXT BLOG: It snowed here on Sunday providing an opportunity for Peggy and me to go on a winter-wonderland walk. Photos from the walk will provide our holiday card to the great folks who follow this blog from around the world.

Alfred Hitchcock, The Birds, Bodega, and Ansel Adams… California’s North Coast

December 14, 2015December 12, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 44 Comments

1 Alfred Hitchcock mannequin in Bodega California

Alfred Hitchcock’s film, The Birds, is forever entwined in the history of the small town of Bodega, California where parts of it were filmed. A mannequin of Alfred Hitchcock welcomes people to the town. Got Birds?

I like birds. We feed a lot at our home nestled up against the Siskiyou Mountains of southern Oregon. As I write this, I am looking out at our backyard bird feeder. It’s being stormed by Chickadees and Oregon Juncos. A couple of weeks ago it was sparrows. They attacked in mass, emptying the feeder in record time. Not only were they greedy, they were messy. As many sunflower seeds fell on the ground as went into their tummies. Scrub and Stellar Jays gobbled up the escapees, aided and abetted by a fat gray squirrel and two turkeys.

I look out on the bird feeder from my writing chair. It provides endless entertainment. You never know who might be hanging out. Deer often sleep under it. This morning they were up the hill. Earlier we had counted 1o bedded down on our road and the hillside.

Interest in the bird feed goes beyond birds as this gray squirrel demonstrates. It shimmied up the pole, which was quite humorous as he kept slipping down.

I caught this Acorn Woodpecker earlier in the year. I was impressed with his Linda Blair ability to swivel his head all the way around and give me the evil eye. He would have made a great extra for Hitchcock’s film.

I went out to replenish the feeder and was roundly scolded for interfering. By everyone. When I returned with more sunflower seeds, the sparrows decided they had waited long enough. They flew down from the Madrone tree and directly into the feeder, which I was still holding! Surprised and amused, I put the feeder down, rushed inside, and grabbed my camera. Peggy wasn’t home so it would have to be a selfie. Soon I had birds perched on my head, shoulders, hands, and even on the camera. Unfortunately, their fluttering and jumping around, made photography difficult, to say the least. Luckily, a few paused to eat.

With one hand holding the feeder and my other hand my camera, I worked to catch a photo of the busy sparrows.

The birds reminded me of my experience in August when I visited the small town of Bodega, which is just inland from the larger town of Bodega Bay on the north coast of California. Alfred Hitchcock had come here in 1961 to film his classic horror film, The Birds. It’s a story about our feathered friends getting nasty and attacking people. I had watched the film when it had come out in 1963 and visited the area a few years later. It was in the fall season and the local birds were gathering in large flocks. Normally, being mobbed by sea gulls doesn’t bother me, but…

Bodega has incorporated the movie into its history and people still visit the area from all over the world to see where it was filmed. Local grocer Michael Fahmie has turned his Bodega Country Store into something of a monument to the movie. A large billboard featuring Alfred Hitchcock is on the outside of the store while the inside is crammed full of memorabilia from the movie. A Hitchcock mannequin greets visitors. I said hi to Al and went inside. Afterwards, I hiked the short distance over to the movie’s most famous Bodega sites: the 150-year-old Potter School and the nearby St. Teresa Catholic Church. In the movie, kids had run screaming from the school for sanctuary in the church, with the birds in hot pursuit.

Hitchcock was always great at promoting his films. This was from the Bird's movie billboard outside of the Bodega Country Store.

Hitchcock was always great at promoting his films. This was from the movie billboard outside of the Bodega Country Store.

A number of film posters are found inside the Bodega Country Store. I've included this one featuring Tippi Hedren for my followers from France.

A number of film posters are found inside the Bodega Country Store. I’ve included this one featuring Tippi Hedren for my followers in France.

A film still from The Birds shows children running from the Potter School in terror.

A film still from The Birds shows children running in terror from the Potter School (on the right).

The Potter School as it looks now. Today it is a private residence.

10 Potter school and St. Teresa church in Bodega California

I’ve included this photo because it shows the location of St. Teresa’s Catholic Church in relationship to the Potter School.

St. Teresa’s was already famous when Alfred Hitchcock came to town. In 1953 Ansel Adams photographed it. He’s one of my all time heroes. I couldn’t resist getting my camera out. I am not a professional photographer. Mainly, I have fun. It was interesting for me to compare my efforts with those of Adam’s when I got home. The power of the Ansel Adams’ photograph is immediately apparent. It is easy to see why he is recognized as one of the world’s greatest photographers. Still, I was happy with my efforts.

Ansel Adams’ powerful photo of the church.

My photo of St. Teresa's Catholic Church from the Potter School.

My photo of St. Teresa’s Catholic Church from the back near the Potter School.

My perspective facing the church from the left.

And from the right.

A front view of St. Teresa’s Catholic Church showing a stained glass window.

A final photo of St. Teresa's Church in Bodega looking from the doors up.

A final photo looking up from the doors.

When …—… Saved Lives: The Marconi Telegraph Station at Point Reyes

December 10, 2015December 10, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 32 Comments

1 Tunnel of Cypress Trees at Marconi-RCA wireless site Point Reyes

This tunnel of cypress trees leading into the Marconi-RCA wireless receiving station at Point Reyes National Seashore in California is considered one of the most beautiful tree tunnels in the world.

Do you recognize the dits and dahs? I memorized what they meant for a Boy Scout badge back in the Dark Ages, back before satellites and modern communication systems came to connect almost anyone, anywhere, anytime. Here’s a clue: the three dots stands for S, and the three dashes for O. Think SOS: Save Our Ship. You will recognize the whole alphabet spelled out in dits and dahs as Morse Code, named after the American inventor Samuel Morse, who developed it in 1838.

Morse Code

Combined with telegraph lines and operators, it revolutionized communication. Getting the quickest message between points A and B no longer required finding the fastest horse or train. Seconds instead of days or weeks became the rule for sending important communications over long distances.

What Morse did for land based communication, Guglielmo Marconi did for oceans. His claim to fame was being the prime inventor of wireless communication using radio waves. He started at the young age of 21, working in his attic in Italy with his butler Mignani. (I am reminded of the young Steve Jobs, sans butler, working out of his garage in Palo Alto.) Like Jobs, Marconi was an entrepreneurial genius as well as an electronics wizard, or geek, if you prefer. He began by sending a message across his attic in 1894 to ring a bell. By 1902, he’d cornered the market on sending wireless messages using Morse Code across the Atlantic Ocean.

Ships at sea and their passengers were among the primary beneficiaries of the new technology. “Surprise, you are a new father. Send money,” could now be transmitted immediately instead of weeks down the line. There was also a safety factor. For the iceberg bound Titanic, it meant that 30% of its passengers were saved— instead of none.

By 1914, Marconi had extended his operation to the Pacific Ocean and built sending and receiving stations in the Marin County towns of Bolinas and Marshall north of San Francisco. (Because of interference, sending and receiving stations had to be separated.) During and immediately after World War I, military concerns combined with a touch of nationalism, and, I suspect, a generous dollop of old-fashioned greed, led to the take over of Marconi’s American operation and its transformation into RCA, the Radio Corporation of America.

A Mural in Olema, California that provides a look at what the community looked like when it served as the sending station of Marconi telegraph. The blue surfboard represents a bit of artist creativity. (grin)

A mural in Olema, California just north of San Francisco that provides a look at what the community looked like when it served as the Pacific Ocean telegraph sending station for Marconi-RCA telegraph. The blue surfboard represents a bit of artist creativity. (grin)

An early photo of the Marconi receiving site in the small town of Marshall on Tomales Bay. Workers lived in the hotel.

The hotel as it looks today as part of the Marconi Conference Center.

6. Old Highway 57 and Highway 1 in Marshall

Old Highway 57, the dirt road, once serviced the Marshall Marconi wireless receiving site. Modern Highway 1 is seen below along with Tomales Bay. The distant hills are part of Point Reyes National Seashore.

7 Old 1873 Seafood restaurant in Marshall Ca

Historic Marshall included this old/now deserted seafood restaurant built in 1873.

Today, Marshall is know for its oysters and kayak eco-tours.

Today, Marshall is known for its oysters and kayak eco-tours.

I hound this old rocking chair sitting alone Highway one. All it needed was an old codger to sit in it.

I found this old rocking chair sitting along Highway 1. All it needed was an old codger to sit in it.

In 1929, the Marshall operation was moved to Point Reyes. It was still there actively receiving messages when I first started visiting the National Seashore in the late 60s and early 70s. A forest of receiving antennas and no trespassing signs announced its presence. Most of the communication with American ships involved in the Vietnam War passed through the facility. On July 12, 1999, the station sent its last message. Dits and dahs had been made obsolete by bits and bytes.

I was drawn there on my August trip up the North Coast of California by a statement I had found on the Net stating that the cypress trees at the entrance formed one of the most beautiful tree tunnels in the world. Even though I had driven by the facility dozens of times over the years, I had never noticed. Shame on me. When I drove up, a group of amateur photographers with expensive cameras were busily proving the point. I joined the queue with my small Cannon S-100.

I was also blessed with a touch of serendipity. A display sign announced that the Maritime Radio Historical Society was featuring a display on telegraph use in Marconi’s impressive Art Deco headquarters. I drove down under the tunnel of trees and walked through the building’s open door. An hour later I emerged with the distinctive sound of a telegraph keys clattering away in my ears and enough information for a dozen blogs.

The lovely art deco building built by Marconi-RCA for its telegraph receiving station at Point Reyes National Seashore.

The lovely art deco building was built by Marconi-RCA for its telegraph receiving station at Point Reyes National Seashore.

Steven King, a volunteer with the Marine

Steven King, a volunteer with the Maritime Historical Radio Society and the Point Reyes National Seashore spent most of an hour explaining how the Marconi-RCA wireless receiving station worked during its heyday.

12 Telegraph call letters for ships at Marconi-RCA wireless site Point Reyes

Every ship at sea had its own call sign for receiving telegraphs. These were left when the last telegraphs were sent out in 1999.

A view of the telegraph receiving antennas as they look today.

This tunnel of cypress trees leading into the Marconi-RCA headquarters receiving station at Point Reyes National Seashore in California is considered one of the most beautiful tree tunnels in the world.

I had a final opportunity to drive under the beautiful bower of trees as I returned to the highway.

NEXT BLOG: I head north for the small town of Bodega to explore where Alfred Hitchcock’s movie The Birds was filmed and discover a church that was photographed by Ansel Adams.

What to Do When a Nike Missile Is Pointed at You… Surrender.

December 6, 2015December 5, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 39 Comments

This Nike missile came out of the ground and was pointed at me when I was visiting Golden Gate National Recreation Area just north of San Francisco. I quickly moved aside and snapped its photo. Missiles were raised skyward before being fired.

I heard a whirring sound just before the large metal gates clanked open. A Nike missile rose ominously out of the ground. It was pointed at me. “I surrender,” I said to the missile as I slowly raised my hands. It seemed like the wise thing to do. Not very long ago (1953-1979), back in the disturbing days of the Cold War, this deadly weapon had been loaded with a nuclear warhead two-three times as powerful as the atom bombs America had dropped on Japan at the end of World War II. It still spoke of destruction, but now it was defanged. It had become a museum piece, a shell of its former self, a relic of our very scary past.

SF-88 is located in what is now the Golden Gate National Recreation Area just across the Golden Gate Bridge from San Francisco. It was one of 300 Nike missile sites across the US built as a last line of defense against Soviet bombers carrying nuclear weapons. It now serves as the only restored Nike site in America.

I visited the museum as part of my August trip up the North Coast of California. When I arrived, two park rangers sat outside enjoying the sun. I put one to work; he volunteered to take me on a personal tour of the underground facility. We climbed down the stairs with our footsteps echoing into a large room filled with missiles. After describing how the massive weapons were to be used, he suggested I try pulling one on its track. I couldn’t believe how easily it moved; I felt like I had super powers. He explained that the system was designed for getting the missiles up and ready to fire in 15 minutes. Several million lives depended on quick action.

Each of the 300 Nike missile sites around the US had several Nike missiles ready to fire off in 15 minutes to take down Russian bombers approaching the country.

A view of one of the missiles. They were large enough I couldn’t capture the full missile within the confines of its underground bunker.

I easily moved one of the Nike Missiles along the track toward its launching station.

5.The Nike missiles at SF-88 would rise through these gates

These gates would open in preparation for a launch of the Nike Missiles.

The Nike missiles at SF-88 were intended to target Russian bombers 90 mile off the coast from the Golden Gate. The nuclear warheads were to assure that none got through. The greatest fear was that they might be carrying 50-megaton Tsar Hydrogen bombs, the mother of all bombs. The Russians had built one and blown it up as a warning to the US. To put things in perspective, it had 1,350–1,570 times the explosive power of the atom bombs that destroyed Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

“The Tsar Bomb,” the park ranger explained, “would be exploded a few thousand feet up in the air above San Francisco.” All people living in the region would be killed. There would no longer be a San Francisco, an Oakland, a San Jose, a Berkeley, or any of the other communities located in the Bay Area. Neither would there be any birds, mammals, reptiles, trees, grass, or other life left living. A chill settled over me as I recalled I was a student at Berkeley during the 60s, at the height of the Cold War.

I thought even the smaller Nike weapons would be devastating to the region. The prominent west winds would bring deadly radiation from the explosions raining down on the Bay Area and points east. “What would it matter?” the ranger asked. What indeed. Once a nuclear war started, the US and Russia had enough nuclear weapons to wipe out life on earth— several times over.

Having heard enough bad news, I climbed out of the bunker leaving the ranger to explain doomsday to another group of visitors that had arrived. I was outside by myself when Nike Missile came rumbling up from its underground hideout. No one had told me it was part of the tour.

The gates as seen from above. I don’t know, but I suspect they would have been camouflaged during the Cold War.

I heard a whirring sound, the gates clanked open, and the missile arose out of its bunker.

What would have been lost during a nuclear war.

A view of the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco from the Golden Gate National Recreation Area. The Nike missile site is over the hill from where I took this photo.

NEXT BLOG: I visit the Marconi Station at Point Reyes National Seashore where Morse Code messages were once sent out to all ships at sea in the Pacific Ocean— and are still sent out to the sunken Titanic in the Atlantic.

Adios Puerto Vallarta, Hasta Luego

December 2, 2015December 1, 2015 / Curt Mekemson / 18 Comments

No doubt about it, the highlight of our visit to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico this year was our visit by Senior Iggy, the Iguana.

It was time to say goodbye to Puerto Vallarta. We packed up our clothes, laptops, dock kits, etc., and were wondering where we would find space for the goodies we had bought. Like most experienced travellers, we carry minimum luggage. Space is at a premium. Somehow, we always seem to have a few square inches to spare, however. Our Kindles help; a travelling library is no longer required.

Checkout was at 10:00. The plane was leaving at 3:30. Translate: Lots of time to kill. We headed over to the hotel’s open-air restaurant that overlooks Banderas Bay. Maybe some dolphins would entertain us. We didn’t see any, but Angel, the headwaiter, spotted us and came hurrying over. Peggy has befriended him over the years. I am in charge of generous tips. The combination assures excellent service.

Peggy and Angel at Krystal Hotel in Puerto Vallarta

Peggy and our waiter, Angel, at the Krystal Hotel.

While we missed seeing any dolphins during breakfast, we found this father-son look-a-like team rather amusing.

While we missed seeing any dolphins during breakfast, we found this scene rather amusing. I wonder who the boy’s father is? (Grin)

As always, we had enjoyed our two weeks— one with friends and one on our own. We had eaten several good meals, sat out on the beach, watched beautiful sunsets, appreciated the art, and enjoyed the wildlife, including Senior Iguana, who had stopped by for a visit. Walking three to five miles a day and limiting ourselves to one major meal meant we might go home skinnier than we came. That would be a first.

Much of the art on the Malecon encourages interaction, much like Burning Man art. Here I am with our friends Ken and Leslie Lake.

Numerous good restaurants in Puerto Vallarta always tempt us. Peggy chomps down on a tropical creation.

Speaking of the tropics, this plant certainly had a tropical look.

As did this flower.

And this palm tree.

Pigeon with flying symbol on back in Puerto Vallarta

Pigeons are found everywhere but this fellow with his unusual ‘flight patter’ on his back caught my attention. I must have chased after him for ten minutes with my camera.

A view of our hotel. When we started going to Puerto Vallarta, the Krystal stood side by side with one-two story buildings. Now surrounding skyscrapers have destroyed the ambience.

A view of our hotel. When we started going to Puerto Vallarta, the Krystal stood side by side with one-two story buildings. Now it is surrounded by skyscrapers. So much for ambience.

We would head out to the beach every evening to catch the sunset. I liked the silhouette of these palm tress created by the setting sun.

We headed out to the beach every evening to catch the sunset. I liked the silhouette of these palm tress that was created by the setting sun.

14 Cowboy and cruise ship in Puerto Vallarta

Old and new Puerto Vallarta: A cowboy stops to talk with someone as a cruise ship disappears into the distance.

Counting up left over pesos is always part of our departure ritual. Peggy’s responsibility is to then go out and spend them. She darted across the street to the furniture-plus store while I worked on writing in the hotel’s lobby. I now have another blog in the Grand Canyon series (you will see it on Friday), and Peggy has two new colorful cereal bowls.

Finally, after what seemed like a long, long time, we grabbed a cab for the short ten-minute ride to the airport. And here I have something important to report— the security-check was a pleasure. What?? No way!!! Peggy and I work really hard to make TSA officials in the US laugh. On rare occasions, we even get a glimmer of a grin. I think TSA has a no-smile rule, like the guards at Buckingham Palace. But here, the agents were actually smiling on their own, like they enjoyed their jobs, like they were happy to see visitors, like they recognized the odds of us being terrorists were infinitesimally small. Back in the US they probably would have been fired.

A final Puerto Vallarta sunset.

NEXT BLOG: Back to the Grand Canyon and hostile spirits from another realm.

Wandering through Time and Place

Exploring the world with Curtis and Peggy Mekemson

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