While the insistent beats went on on the desert we here continued to venture further up the creek as, since the conveniently fallen log having been gentrified into a cute little bench on a steepish slope, a person less agile needed a something more accommodating to settle on.

Fortunately a bit beyond the waterfall

the forest detritus allowed just such an opportunity although given an endemic lack of stamina the extra distance may result in not only sorer feet but also longer napping

on the return.  At any rate Thursday we forewent that as, after a long-delayed run to the ‘burg for Safeway and the dump – with a pause to contemplate paintings in the Habib [not shown] –

we hooked up with John and Roberta on their way to Denver from Albuquerque for lunch at the Merc [JB uncharitably awarding his jalapeño burger a D- but at least this time my coffee was hot] before they pressed on while we made it home to briefly unload and continue down the hill

to Mountain Water for a perfect evening as Joan and Robert hosted Nina, Mitch, Erin, ourselves and our neighbor Maryann at the end of the N.M. and E.’s second brutal day grinding apertures into Nina’s three containers.  Chicken cacciatore by L., homegrown vegetables from Maryann with libations and wonderful home made ginger ice cream from Joan along with Robert

and Mitch’s inimitable humor all made for memorable hilarities until Nina and her sun-blasted crew headed back for another two days of grinding out beyond Gardner Butte…

we of course had only the creek and its pocketfuls of fortuitous mushrooms to contend with.

At the same time, far to the west on the Black Rock Desert, Dave was attending to the depredations of the saboteurs who’d cut “The Speed of the Earth”s* wirings [BM fotos below courtesy D. Rumsey]

while all across the playa, even though things were, as ever, pretty amazing by night and by day,

people were trickling away sporadically, as sporadically witnessed by the Webcam of Gerlach.

Meanwhile we had our woods to attend to and then Saturday a most enjoyable celebration with

Dean of Sibylla’s 81st birthday. As a result of I missed the Main Event, the Burning of the Man, but despite the lameness of the camera work the aftermath was plain to see…tail lights down

447 all Saturday night and into the dawn. Nevertheless and despite come Sunday the diminishment of population was barely noticeable although following that afternoon’s clarity the wind

[as it does] came up, rendering the Temple Burn obscure at best. This was immediately

followed by exodus in full flower** [note lines of tiny lights off to the right of BRC]…something Management took pains to conceal although the Gerlach cam and also BMIR made it clear

that it wasn’t as with all that movement the dust had become more impenetrable than ever.  Dangerous for driving, dangerous for breathing…not here, however. Our stream, if only

a trickle, remained adamantly online, in large part thanks to the efforts of Bill Haynes and his buddy Brett [also responsible for the gentrification around the waterfall, bless ’em].

The Exodus stream, the one one can intermittently see on the webcam, remained a constant,

as did the Dusting of Black Rock City out there in the distance. “Exodust”***, a BM tradition…

*”Our art project is ‘The Speed of the Earth’, a near-mile long line of strobe lights that will create a comet zooming across the playa east to west at the speed of the earth’s rotation, so you can feel the earth rotate. It will be on the west side of the playa running all day and night ” – Kevin Kelly [Ed. note -Unless some assholes on acid damage the wiring]

**”We got Dave and Kevin home from BM today.  Grueling 5+ hour wait on gate road for them.  We had our fun trying to exit the city [Monday] night with the first load of lights.  3 hours of whiteout gridlock just to get out the side gate!  Then today we almost disappeared again.  Brownout blew in just as we loaded the last light.  Bout an hour creeping in from outer playa till we found the city streets .  Glad all that’s over!  Tomorrow we return the RV” – Seth Roché

***It doesn’t take nearly as many people [on bicycles or otherwise] nor nearly that amount of time [June – August] to turn any self-respecting playa into a serious dustbowl, so no surprises there.