Burning Man 2018 (Pershing County, Nevada)

*Photo courtesy of Instagram

Merriam-Webster defines the verb 'to burn' as 'to give off light', which is a poetic description of what burners do each August. For the last twenty-eight years, seekers have driven to the near-lifeless playa of the Black Rock Desert, 100-ish miles north of Reno, NV, to create, experience and survive Burning Man. The event actually started in 1986 on Baker Beach in San Francisco, but the crowds grew too large and it was moved. 

For a few years, I have thought about attending as something of a bucket-list item. Last year, I made a concerted effort to obtain tickets, but was not lucky in the various lotteries. This year, however, I got two tickets on the first try. I was ecstatic. I was excited. I was nervous. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into, even after speaking with several 'burner' friends. My friend, Gen, was interested and ended up purchasing my second ticket and we agreed to camp together and share supplies. Like me, Gen is a backpacker and so, between both of our gear-sets and outdoor experience, I had no concerns with surviving on the playa. That only left the 'burner' experience to be concerned with. Another friend, and regular burner, Nate, was extremely helpful in loaning me some playa-specific gear, providing tons of advice and perhaps most importantly, introducing Gen and I to a theme camp, which he is regularly part of.

Wet Spot is a well-established craft beer bar and five or so year history, built on the playa. In the weeks leading up to the event, Gen and I both assisted the camp crew with loading building materials, filling kegs, and other assorted preparatory chores. Most of the camp was planning to head out towards Black Rock City, the temporary community built by and for Burning Man, at the start of the event on Saturday, August 26th. Gen and I were only going for part of the week and planned to head out Wednesday evening after work.

From Saturday through Wednesday, we heard reports of intensive police activity on highway 447 leading to the Black Rock Desert. Burning Man has a reputation as drug-induced, orgy-friendly, art party, and while the police generally look the other way on most of these activities and only enforce laws against violent crimes, this year seemed to be a bit different for whatever reason. After loading Gen's Subaru with all of supplies and gear, we made the trip out and thankfully, had no issues with police or traffic. It takes about two hours to drive from Reno to the entrance, but early in the week, the wait time to get in may be as much as ten hours. Luckily, we didn't experience that and only had to deal with our initiation on the way in. As virgin burners, we were expected to get out of the car and make dust angels (like snow angels) on the playa as a right of passage. It seemed an unnecessarily silly way to get us dusty, but what the hell . . . it's tradition. We made our angels and rang the bell as our cherries had no been popped.

The long, slow drive into Black Rock City was eye-opening, even this far into the evening. The event obtains a use permit from the Bureau of Land Management for 70,000 attendees, plus approximately 5,000 volunteers and staff, but until you see what those people have created out of nothing, it's hard to understand just how big it is. In fact, during it's temporary annual existence, it is actually the 6th largest city in the state of Nevada.

Arriving at camp, other members of Wet Spot were preparing to hit the Deep Playa in the Yaba-mobile, which is a mutant car fashioned into the Flintstones mobile from what was previously a Land Rover. As I write all of this, I realize I'm introducing concepts that may be foreign to the reader, like 'mutant cars', but hopefully, it will become more clear as we continue. Gen and I decided to stay at camp and get our tent set up. Using a power-drill and an anchor assembly, which Nate suggested, it didn't take long to wind-proof our section of camp. Once we had our sleeping arrangements up, we decided to take our bikes, fully decorated in the Burning Man tradition, out to explore.

It's difficult to explain everything we were seeing, but I will try my best. From hammock retreats, to hot tea ceremonies, from mobile dance clubs, to stargazing, from genital painting to, yoga instruction, there is something for everyone. The lights, the sounds, the bodies, everything just seemed alive. Black Rock City is arranged in a clock configuration with 'The Man' functioning as the center of the clock, 'Temple' at midnight and theme camps arranged from 2:00 to 10:00. The area beyond theme camps where 'The Man' and 'Temple' have been constructed is known as the 'Deep Playa' and it's purpose always confused me until now. The Playa of the Black Rock Desert is a lifeless, flat, dusty lake bed that is known for hosting several land speed records. Dust blows up into clouds that can choke the life out of visitors and reduce visibility to near-zero. So, why would the event have so much of the playa partitioned off like this. As I learned during this time, the Deep Playa is full of amazing art installations, and is where the hundreds of mutant vehicles and thousand of neon-clad bikes go after dark. Mutant vehicles, like Wet Spot's yaba-mobile, are cars that are no-longer street legal and have been modified to appear as pirate ships, or dragons, or mobile strip clubs . . . the owner's imagination is the only limitation. These vehicles, their neon or laser-lights, and techno-bumping sound-systems wander the playa in search of _____ each evening during the event. With the addition of bikes and pedestrians, which are best-advised to use extensive lighting on their persons, makes for a sea of color throbbing and undulating with life on the lifeless desert plane. After exploring a bit and realizing how overwhelming the next few days were going to be, we returned to town and found a nice camp serving multiple flavors of hot tea. We sat and chilled for a bit, before crashing for the night.

Waking fairly early Thursday morning, we opted to go out and explore more in the daylight. While the Deep Playa comes to life after dark, the streets of Black Rock City burst with adventure during the day. We first chose to attend a lecture on the ecology of the Black Rock Desert offered by a theme camp known as the Earth Guardians. There, we learned that Burning Man is the single largest Leave No Trace event on Earth. As someone very involved with LNT, I was aware that it was one of the guiding principles of the event, but I never considered how much effort went into cleaning up after the event and ensuring the playa is returned to its natural state. I'm so very glad to be part of it.

From there, we went back to Wet Spot, where I did a shot of the 12-pepper 'Takillya', which is tequila that has had 12 Carolina Reaper chilies macerating in it for 3-weeks or so. I have a high tolerance for heat, but it wasn't the burn of the capsaicin that got me. Instead, it seemed to just hit my stomach like a brick. The feeling was much akin to being kicked in the genitals. It passed after a few minutes, but at least I got that out of the way. It's something of a tradition at the camp and I was glad to participate, painful as it was.

Returning to the Deep Playa, this time in daylight, we visited 'Temple'. Here a large and artistic structure has been created in the form of a giant spiral. Temple is approximately 50 yards in diameter and probably 20 yards tall. This is a somber place where burners go to mediate, to morn, to cry and finally, when the temple burns on Sunday, to say goodbye to those loved and lost in the previous year. I was struck by the strange dress or complete nudity of those walking around temple (and the entire event for that matter). People in the crazies cloths you have ever seen were sitting in complete silence. What's more striking though and what would become a theme of the event for me is the lack of judgement. No one was judging anyone else. Everyone was free to be or explore their own identity where it might take them. It was a unique micro-culture that I had not before encountered.

We visited a number of other art installations and theme camps throughout the day and eventually returned to camp around dark, just in time to hit the Deep Playa in the yaba-mobile. With plenty of booze in-hand and the sound-system blaring techno at volumes that would deafen mere mortals, we climbed aboard - a dozen or so on the top deck (including me), eight or so in the seats and on the sides and a number of camp-members on bikes riding with us. We headed out . . . destination unknown. Over the next couple of hours, we stopped a few times and visited a few art pieces on the playa, but what was most amazing, was the one-ness of it all. It was like a block party on an astronomical scale. There weren't hundreds of people out here. There weren't thousands of people out here. There were tens-of-thousands of people out here dancing, drinking, drugging, doing whatever their current whim charmed them into doing. As the playa is a relatively safe place, the police tend to overlook things of this nature at this event and surrounded by friends, people just seem to turn loose of all inhibition and be the person they instinctual are. We got back to camp about 2:30 AM and crashed. It had been a long day and I was ready to sleep. 

The next morning, I tended bar at Wet-Spot for a little bit. Perhaps the most interesting thing about Burning Man is the lack of currency-acceptance. The only thing that money buys you here is ice, which is brought in by the organizers on a daily basis. Beyond that, everything else is given away for free. From food, to booze, from massages, to lectures, from instruction, to sex, nothing can be bought for money. The idea of event is that it is a honor-based bartering system. If you are here, then you have contributed something to Burning Man and are free to take part in what others have contributed. Wet Spot contributes lots and lots of booze. This year, that included four kegs of Great Basin's Icky, four kegs of Deschutes Fresh Squeezed IPA, Two kegs of Newcastle, a dozen or so pony-kegs of Skip-and-Go-Naked (our own concoction of American light lager, vodka, Everclear, and lime-aid), and a twenty or so bottles of the chile-infused "Takillya" mentioned earlier. People would come into our old-west style bar, complete with saloon-doors and we'd poor them a drink or three of their choice while we talk about life, the universe, and everything. No bar tab. No tips. No money. If they are here, then they are contributing something of themselves.

Gen wasn't feeling well and so, I went off on my own for a while that evening. I attended a couple of astronomical lectures, which included a showing of the Pale Blue Dot clip from Dr. Carl Sagan's Cosmos. For whatever reason, it seemed to put my mind in just the right place. This place, this event, this time is the Pale Blue Dot come in miniature. 

After the lectures, I roamed the city. It's not hard to find something interesting to do. I found a burning T-rex, a wine bar, a creme-brulee service, topless pole dancers, flaming-limbo, a giant swing, a 747 fuselage turned dance-club, anything and everything one can conceive of is here to be found. The variety of this cornucopia of experience is endless. As the night progresses, I wander back out into the Deep Playa. Here some of the art installations have been set ablaze as was intended upon their creation. Fireworks sparkle overhead, while music pounds my brain and I maneuver through tens of thousands of bikes circling 'The Man'.

Rising the next morning, I realize how much dust is on everything. No matter what precautions you take, the fine, white dust of the playa is an absolute. It gets into everything, which is why the dust-angels we made upon entry were so important. You must embrace the dust to embrace Burning Man. Earlier, I had found a shower house that had about fifty naked people of both sexes outside in line, but decided to pass and just accept my fate.

Saturday morning, it seems the city begins to tear down. Many of the camps are closed and in various stages of deconstruction. It's unfortunate, as I find many more of interest: a pancake service, organic fruit and vegetable tasting, homemade soda bar, and even a brewery. Without experiencing it, it's impossible to understand the endless variety that exists in this place. We started packing up and headed out Saturday evening, but this experience has changed my world-view. It has changed me and the ripple-effect of it may manifest in mysterious ways in the months and years to come.

Burning Man is nothing; Burning Man is everything. It is the sum total of humanity in one place at one time. It is what we are. It is who we are. And it seeks to answer why we are. It's not evil. It's not deprived. It's not just a big naked orgy. It's search for what it means to be human; what it means to exist. There are parties and there are orgies, but there are also prayer sessions and scientific lectures. There is art and there is music. There is food and there is booze. There is nudity and there are drugs. Burning Man is everything you've ever heard it was, but so much more. Burning Man is.

After returning home, with a nasty sunburn, I reflect on what I have seen and what I have experienced. The man burns because he is fleeting, as is the experience (as is our lives). We must make of it what we can. Do no harm. Leave no trace. Just be . . . 

Oregon Caves - Discovery Tour (Josephine County, Oregon)

While I have some business to attend to in Napa, CA, my final stop for this trip of interest of the blog is at Oregon Caves National Monument in south central Oregon. As usual, I stumbled across this pace when reviewing the map of my trip and since it was only about 45 minutes out of the way, I decided to pay the caves a visit.

The drive up the mountainside is slow going as the road winds and twists its way up a heavily forested canyon, and I take note of the lack of other cars. Finally, arriving at the visitor center, I am a little confused by the signage directing me where to park, but I finally figure it out and walk up to check-in for the Discovery Tour, which I had registered for a few days ago. After speaking with the woman working the desk, I learn that I must speak with a group of rangers outside for "safety training". As it turns out, they are actually screening for potential "white-nose syndrome" carriers. Luckily, I have nothing on me that has been in other caves. I do truly respect and appreciate the work these rangers are doing though. Our native bats are at serious risk due to the spread of this disease and anything we can do to save them, we must!

After meeting with our tour guide, Hope, for some final safety procedures, we enter the cave. It stays at a cool 44 degrees year around with a very high humidity. The entrance is just a few yards from the visitor center and is sealed by a locked grate to prevent rogue explorers from entering and possibly damaging the natural wonder. I've visited a lot of caves over the years, including the largest system known, Mammoth Cave in Kentucky, and I know that all solutional-type caves are formed by the erosion caused by running water, but I've never actually been in a cave with an active stream flowing . . . until now. On the ground below us and underneath a grate, a shallow stream of crystal clear water flows. A blue light installed by the park service gives it a somewhat eerie glow.

Moving further into the cave, we begin to take note of various stalactites, stalagmites, and columns (where the two have joined). Some have been obviously damaged by previous visitors (probably before the cave was under Park Service protection), but most are intact. A number of man-made passage ways have been carved to make the transition between one natural chamber and the next much easier for visitors. Thankfully, the most challenging part of the tour is a section less than 45" tall that one must squat-walk through for ten or so feet.

We enter an area known as the Chapel, where a wedding was once held several decades ago. Then we move onto the Ghost Room, which is actually, the larges chamber in the cave system. Off to the left, Hope guides our eyes to a steel staircase leading up into the area known as Paradise Lost. She offers this as a optional section for those interested, and while a couple of people choose not to climb the steep staircase, I'm not one of those and head up as soon as possible.

At the top, I am treated to an amazing sight. I'm not sure what the technical name of the formation is, but I have seen them many times before in this and other solutional caves. The mineral deposits form what looks very similar to a "jellyfish", which is what I have always called them. In this room with a very high ceiling, hundreds of these jellyfish of different sizes at at different levels on the wall have formed. It reminds me of being underwater and seeing a pod of jellyfish float by. This is truly breathtaking.

After climbing back down the ladder, we continue on to with a lighted case surrounding some animal bones. Our guide explains the bones belonged to a 3,000 year old adolescent female black bear. The bones were discovered by contractors surveying the cave for the park service in preparation for pouring some concrete walk ways. Apparently, the discoverer of the bones suggested preserving them in their natural environment with this case to give future visitors an idea of what it was like to find them originally. Quite a cool idea. How the bear originally got into the cave is a mystery that will likely never be solved.

Finally, we reach the exit of the cave and emerge into the sunlight. It's hard on our eyes at first, but we quickly adjust to life as surface-dwellers. The tour took approximately 90-minutes, but with our excellent guide, Hope, was a terrific experience. I would recommend this cave tour to anyone passing through the area.

Rogue River Gorge (Jackson County, Oregon)

On my drive from Bend, OR to Oregon Caves National Monument, I saw an interesting sign that warranted some investigation. The sign indicated a geologic site called the Rogue River Gorge. While somewhat familiar with the Rogue River, I was unaware of any notable gorge cut by it and so, I had to check it out.

From the parking lot, just off the highway, a paved trail with a fence runs parallel to the small, but violent river as it passes through a narrow channel of reasonably high cliffs. As I read the signage and note with my own eyes, the river is flowing through a collection of collapsed lava tube caves. Not all that surprising given our proximity to the very active Newberry Volcano, which I explored yesterday. While these lava tubes may be much older than the areas I hiked in and around, they still keep some of that character.

A series of four overlooks have been constructed to offer views of the raging river below, but most are obstructed by trees or hanging limbs, which is unfortunate not only for me, but for a mother and her adult son that I strike up a conversation with. Apparently, he is studying to be a professional photographer. Well, my friend, you picked a great place to shoot. This area is absolutely spectacular. The river forms a series of waterfalls as it passes through the narrow gorge, which is probably only 20-feet wide at the widest point. 

Just a short distance upstream, the gorge opens up into two forks, one nearly dry and the other raging. A number of fallen trees have been collected over the waterfall and make for an interesting composition to my shots here. This is a really cool place and I'm glad I stopped, but that said, it's time to get back on the road.

Big Obsidian Flow - Newberry Caldera (Deschutes County, Oregon)

Continuing my exploration of Newberry National Volcanic Monument, I decided to drive out to and hike through the Big Obsidian Flow. While my iPhone GPS suggested it would take more than an hour to get there, with modern technology and paved roads, I made the trip in only about 25 minutes (and I didn't even need to speed). Perhaps the road has only recently been paved. Either way, it was only a short drive to the natural wonder and reminder of Earth's violent geologic history.

While the area has been active geologically for half-a-million years, the lava flow that created this giant field of obsidian (and other volcanic rocks) occurred only 1,300 years ago. The frozen sea of rocks is truly an impressive sight. From the parking area, it's only fifty or so yards before I came face-to-face with the steep edge of the flow, which rises a hundred or so feet about the area and is in sharp contrast to the heavily forested area around me.

The park service has installed a sturdy set of stairs up the side of the rock pile and from the top, a trail directs one through the aftermath of the eruption. I've visited a lot of lava flows and even some with a heavy concentration of obsidian, but I think this place takes the cake. Once I top, I find dozens, if not hundreds, of obsidian boulders and formations - some the size of a basketball; others the size of a car. This time of day, the overhead sun glares off of the shiny black surface of this volcanic remnant to produce a somewhat otherworldly experience. When the nearby Modoc peoples and their ancestors came across this place and it's treasure trove of tool-making raw materials, they must have been ecstatic. Obsidian is a true gold-mine for the fashioning of arrowheads and spear points.

Following the trail as it meanders through the lava field, I find one obsidian deposit after another, until finally, the trail loops back to a previously encountered fork. I'm sure I could explore miles down this flow by going off-trail, but the razor sharp edges of the rocks as well as a tight schedule convince me to do otherwise. The hike was only about 0.7 miles, but it was quite a site to see and explore.

Lava Cast Forest (Deschutes County, Oregon)

Lava flows are always interesting to visit, but in the Newberry National Volcanic Monument just south of Bend, is famed for something that I have not encountered before. When the lava flows were active around six thousand years ago, they enveloped a living forest. The lava encased the tree trunks - most standing, some fallen over. The trees probably burnt very quickly inside the lava casing, but it took long enough for the flowing lava to cool and form a cast around the trunk. What remained of the trunk rotted away over the centuries and only the lava cast remained.

It's a long drive down a terribly wash-boarded forest road to get to the trail head, but I finally go there. The parking arrangements are a bit odd and the signage is  strange, and so I simply find a clear area to park the jeep. While a little uneven, the trail is paved the entire way through the lava field. 

As I leave the tree line, the landscape opens up to field of lava rocks as far as the eye can see. A few young trees poke through rocky landscape. On either side of the lava flow, larger forests remain. Lava is obligated to the laws of gravity and must take the path of least resistance just like anything else. 

Further along the trail, I encounter the first of the lava casts. This one is about a foot in diameter and roughly three feet deep. It's a unique thing to see. As the trail continues in and around the dried lava flow, I find a number of other lava casts of varying sizes. It really is a unique feature. I've visited a lot of lava flows over the years (Lassen, Craters of the Moon, Lava Beds, and others), but this is the first time I've seen this phenomena.

Finally, the trail winds back around to the parking area. What an amazing place. The trail was just over a mile, but even with such a short hike, the drive was worth it.

Deschutes River and Benham Falls (Deschutes County, Oregon)

My next adventure weekend takes me to the area around Bend, OR, which is pretty much the beer capital of the world as far as many enthusiasts are concerned. While my primary objective is to visit and taste at some of the best craft breweries in the world, I always have to find time for some adventure when I'm out and about. Besides, the tap rooms don't usually open until 11 AM or so. I drove from Reno to Bend (a 7-ish hour trip) after work on Friday and then got up early Saturday morning to do a little hiking.

My first hike is along the famous Deschutes River (the brewery is named after the river; not the other way around) and one of its waterfalls, Benham Falls. After driving four or so miles down a paved forest road, I reach the trailhead. It's early still and I only see one other car. The trail follows right along the river, which is larger than the Truckee, but still tiny in comparison to the rivers of my youth in the mid-west. It is a serene view though. Near the parking lot, a cable car rig that was once used to cross the sometimes raging river, has been preserved. Just beyond a modern bridge offers passage across.

The entire landscape here is influenced by the Newberry Volcano, which has sent lava flows to carpet the area many times over the last few millennia. Where water flows over cooled lava, interesting things are destined to develop. Looking out over this river I'm reminded of any of the thousands of outdoor enthusiast posters, postcards, and movies that I've seen through my life. It's picturesque.

Coming to the falls, I try my best to get a good angle, but end up having to climb a small cliff directly above the falls. And the term 'falls' is a bit misused in my opinion. This is more of a group of rapids. I'm not suggesting that it isn't beautiful, but only that a fall implies, at least to me, much more of a vertical drop that what Benham offers. It would be fun to take a kayak over this though.

After exploring around the area a bit more, I turn back and head off for my next destination. While I didn't track this hike on GPS, thinking it was going to be shorter than it actually was, I still hiked right around a mile.

Giant Tree Hunt with TRTA & SPF (Douglas County, Nevada)

Interesting trees are always worthy destination for a hike. When I saw that the Tahoe Rim Trail Association working with the Sugar Pine Foundation was organizing a hike to the largest sugar pine in the Tahoe region, I couldn't resist the opportunity. I was going to do some hiking today anyway. Why not make some new friends while I'm at it?

The group met at the Kingsbury South trail head along the Tahoe Rim Trail (TRT) and near Stagecoach Ski Resort. Twenty issue hikers, three guides from the TRTA, a representative from the SPF, and the regional brand ambassador for Merrill footwear. That last member of the group was a nice surprise. Apparently, his job is to meet with regional outdoor groups in the area to show off his company's product by allowing the hikers to take shoes on a test spin. I've worn Merrill hiking shoes/boots for years and have always liked their products, but having the opportunity to try new models out was a interesting opportunity that many members of the group took advantage of.

After a quick overview of the organizations and today's hike, we were off. The first section of the trail is pretty steep, but the guides took the group at a slow pace and stopped frequently to allow everyone ample time to make their way up. In all honesty, it was far too slow and with far too many stops for my taste, but hiking with a group is always about adjusting to the groups pace and needs.

As we climbed into the thick growth of the mountains, we got some pretty nice views of both Washoe Valley to the east and Lake Tahoe to the west. After about 2.5 miles and 2 hours we stopped in a shaded flat section for a quick lunch. During the lunch our lead guide, Joe, explained the Forest Service had change their rules about driving up some dirt roads and that the plan to shuttle us part of the way, combined with the slow pace was going to prevent us from reaching our intended definition. I was actually a bit irritate by this. I understand the difficult position the TRTA was put in, but only finding out about not reaching the tree half-way in to the hike was not very professional. In my opinion, this should have been stated at the at the trailhead to allow people to change their mind about going if they so chose. I spoke with Joe about this on the way back, and while I tried to be nice about it, did express my disappointment in the way it was handled.

The hike back was uneventful, except for a deer encounter. We caught up with a doe nursing her fawn in a cleared area just off the trail. It was actually quite beautiful. After finally reaching the trail head, I see that we hiked about 5.75 miles in total. I say my goodbyes, thank our guides, and head for home. I may return some day to find the tree.

Floating the Truckee River - Mayberry to Crissie Caughlin (Washoe County, Nevada)

I've never been a very strong swimmer and so when my friend, Ash, suggested floating on the Truckee River some evening after work, I was interested, but a bit apprehensive. For those that are unfamiliar with the term "Floating", it simply refers to riding an inter-tube or other inflatable flotation device down a relatively calm section of river. Think of it like white water rafting for beginners. This time of year, the Truckee River, which flows through Reno on it's trip from Lake Tahoe to Pyramid Lake, is moving pretty slowly and it's difficult to find an area that is more than three or four feet deep. As a matter of fact, I think of it as more of a creek than a river, but that comes from my growing up on right on the Mississippi River. 

As I'm always up for trying something new, we made arrangements to meet up with other friends and do a group float. We stashed my jeep at Crissie Caughlin Park and then drove Ash's car and the tubes to Mayberry Park just west of Reno. After inflating the tubes, loading up a few beers trip, and then walking them over to the river, our voyage began. Initially, we tried linking the all of the tubes, but this proved to be challenging as we encountered and got stuck on river boulders along the way. We quickly decided to detach and just let the river have its way with each of us individually. 

While the water felt cold initially, we quickly got used to it and it actually became quite pleasant in the late summer sun. While there are a number of small rapid sections and even the remains of an old dam to float over, it would be difficult to get seriously injured doing this at this time of year. That said, coming up on those underwater boulders backwards can leave one with quite a sore backside. It's totally worth it though. As we made our way down the river, we one person would get ahead only to get caught on a boulder and be passed by the others. This went on for pretty much the duration of the trip, until we finally saw the dead white tree on the southern bank, marking our exit back at Crissie Caughlin Park. We paddled our way towards the shore and then extracted ourselves and the tubes form the river. We covered about 2.5 miles in just short of two hours (pretty slow going), but it was exhilarating and I look forward to doing it again before summer ends.

Petroglyph Lake - Hart Mountain Antelope Refuge (Lake County, Oregon)

My final destination for this little jaunt is a petroglyph site on the companion refuge to my early stop. The Hart Mountain Antelope Refuge, in conjunction with Sheldon, serve as a summer and fall home to thousands of pronghorn. The ancient Native Americans that inhabited this region knew this very well and hunted this area for millennia. In some cases, they left their marks to be scene for the generations to come. If only we could understand the stories their silent art recorded.

Leaving Plush, OR, the gravel road climbs up onto the high plateau of the refuge. The golden grasses expand across this landscape as far as the eye can see with no sign of man's interference except for the lonely road. Finding a small sign for Petroglyph Lake, I take a left turn only to find a locked gate barring my further forward progress. Oh well, I guess I'll hike it from here.

The "trail" is simply a dirt road parting the golden sea. With each step I take, a hundred grasshoppers take flight to remove themselves from my path. Honestly, I've never seen so many grasshoppers. They occasionally land on me as they try to escape. I giggle to myself as I consider how bad these long-legged creatures are at flight navigation.

After a mile or so, a distant cliff of basalt comes into view. Presumably, this borders Petroglyph Lake and I suspect I will find rock art scratched into these boulders that gives the lake it's name. 

As I approach closer, I see the depression contains a murky water, similar in color to the grasses surrounding it. The double-track turns to single-track as it heads towards the basalt cliff side. With each step, I carefully watch for rattlesnakes. It's mid-day and the temperature is just about right for the venomous slitherers to be active. 

I make my way to the ever-shrinking shoreline of the lake. The earth has dried and cracked as it bakes in the unrelenting sunlight. I note numerous antelope tracks and another set that I initially guess to be mountain lion, but later, as I realize how the cracking soil enhances the size of the tracks, I settle on coyote. As I look off in the distance, I see one of the buggers staring back at me, which re-enforces my identification.

I head back over towards the cliff and begin to examine the surface for petroglyphs. A few side trails lead up to the cliff. At first, I assume these are human trails, but as I reach the boulders and find small caves and openings at the end of each, I quickly realize these are well-worn coyote trails, each leading to their respective dens. No wonder the little guy was watching me so closely.

Above the dens, I see numerous panels. There are some unique representations of reptiles with delicate fingers and tales scratched into the stone with precision. As I walk along the cliff, I find several other figures, including some unique ornamented humanoid figures. After walking the length of the cliff, I turn and head back to the jeep. It was a sun-baked 4.2 miles through the grasslands, but it was definitely worth it and a nice finale to this trip.

Greaser Petroglyph Site (Lake County, Oregon)

Whenever I piece together a trip, I scan google maps for any interesting sites that my be on my route or even nearby. Rock art, geological features, fossils, interesting topography, historical sites . . . all kinds of things like this catch my attention. While scanning the map on this particular trip, I came across a petroglyph site not far from the small village of Adel, Oregon that I had planned to refuel at anyway.

The site is just three or four miles outside of town along a shallow waterway and marsh that serves as a seasonal home to numerous species of waterfowl. A tall cliff on the eastern side of the marsh has provided numerous boulders that have tumbled down to lower levels over the centuries and would serve as suitable canvases for the ancient artists of the region. As I slowly drive the gravel road that runs parallel to the cliff, I look for signs of those masterpieces.

Finally noticing a man-made wall in front of one particularly large boulder, I suspect I have found my destination and pull the jeep in. Reading the plaque embedded in the short stone wall, I learn this single boulder is the sole panel in this landscape. It is quite striking with numerous reptile and geometric figures. The panel further describes the restoration efforts that took place after the artifact was vandalized some years ago. It boils my blood to know how little regard some people have for their careless destruction of these priceless links to the past. I snap a few pictures and depart.

Sheldon Antelope Refuge (Washoe County, Nevada)

While my original intention in visiting the Sheldon Antelope Refuge was to confirm reports of petroglyphs on the walls of the canyon leading to the Swan Lake Reservoir, my encounter with so many antelope on my drive to the site sort of took over my attention. As I understand it, this refuge and a sister refuge a couple of hours to the north and across the border into Oregon, have for millennia been along the annual migration roots of these noble creatures. Of course, they weren't always declared refuges, but even before European infringement, the ancient Native Americans recognized this and hunted here.

As I drive slowly along the gravel roads of the refuge, dozens and dozens of antelope seem to jump out as I turn every corner. It seems as though they have read the "no hunting" signs and recognize the safety of this place. When they see my jeep, they most often sprint to a safe distance, but then stop and stare in curiosity at me. Obviously, they are trying to assess the threat, but I like to think that some of it is a true inquisitiveness.

Arriving at the canyon leading to Swan Lake, I find a seldom-traveled trail and gently take the jeep off-road. It's not a very challenging route for my Rubicon, but it allows me a chance to scan the rock surfaces nearby as I drive slowly past. For the most part they are barren of any rock art, but I do finally notice one figure scrapped into the basalt. I would like to spend more time examining the other side of the canyon, but a thick layer of growth covering a creek that may or may not have water flowing deters me from crossing over. Finally reaching the point where the trail ends at a small cliff, I decide to turn around and head back the way I came. After all, the antelope were more the highlight.

Perseids on the Playa 2018 (Humboldt County, Nevada)

Note: Photo courtesy of Facebook

For the third year in a row, I decided to spend the night on the lifeless playa of the Black Rock Desert in order to view the annual Perseid Meteor Shower. An organization called the Friends of Black Rock sets up a group camp every year and open it up to the general public. The group is filled with nice people and most importantly, they bring a port-o-potty with them. I hope the wild fires burning all over the western United States don't spoil the astronomical shooting gallery that is this meteor shower, but there is only one way to know.

I arrived on the playa an hour or so before sunset and followed my phone to the advertised GPS coordinates. Once on the playa, the white, flat surface extends to the horizon in every direction, and so, GPS coordinates are the best (perhaps, the only) way to identify a specific location. After driving a few miles in the general direction, the group of cars and tents come into view. I walk over to the camp "headquarters", introduce myself, and then head back to the jeep to set up camp. 

While I intended to socialize more after getting my tent set up and consuming a subway sandwich I picked up the way out, once I get settled and satiated, the amazing beer, the works of Kitaro playing in my ear, and the simple peace prove overwhelming and I decide to just remain in the comfort of my camp chair to await the show.

As the sun sinks beyond a distant mountain, the stars begin to come into view, but unfortunately, the smoke is having an effect on the visible sky. Massive and deadly wildfires  burning near Yosemite, Redding, and Mendocino have produced unprecedented levels of haze blanketing much of the west. Looking straight up offers some relief as the light must pass through less particulates than when viewing the horizon and so this the area directly above my head becomes the focus of my attention for the next couple of hours. While I do catch site of a few meteors, it's far less spectacular than in years past when the smoke wasn't present. 

Feeling a little disappointed, I crawl into my tent before 11:00 PM and quickly fall asleep. The dry surface of the Black Rock is surprisingly comfortable. Combined with the absolute silence out here, I get a great night's sleep and rise a half-an-hour or so before dawn. I quickly break camp and head out to my next adventure.