It dipped into the 40's south of Santa Cruz yesterday. It's time to return to sunny Florida. On Thursday we'll
slide into our golden van ("El Dorado") and head east.
First stop, Yosemite.
Visiting three years ago
What fun we've had during the first 8000 miles of our summer tour. Since we shoved off in June we've seen the amazing,
done Burning Man again,
Another outstanding photo by our friend, Mike Filippoff
and enjoyed being with our west coast family.
Tomorrow morning we'll roll the first mile and I'll think, "All I just have to do, is
this 4000 more times, and we'll be home!".
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Please don't shout. I don't like loud. We've got laws prohibiting excessive noise but they usually aren't enforced.
Loud motorcycles especially bother me.
Years ago I banned them from the King Mango Strut parade. I've got no time for guys on Harleys with their uncomfortable rumble that says "f-ck you" to everyone nearby.
I'm in Santa Cruz, CA, now where a local letter-to-the editor from a Miles Zarathustra expressed it perfectly.
He wrote,
I object to the handful of morons who hold Santa Cruz hostage each weekend with the loud, ugly, noise of their motorcycles.
What mental dissonance Harley riders must experience, imaging themselves as heroes, while forcing on to the rest of us such hideous sonic blight.
The bloated disease of biker's fart fetish pollutes the air, an attack on any who value tranquility, or indeed, their hearing. The police do nothing to prevent this health hazard.
It is possible to find happiness without annoying everybody around you. Failure to do so is not heroism, but laziness and a selfish lack of imagination. One might call it cognitive flatulence.
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I love county fairs, the annual gatherings
where folks can ride blue elephants,
eat elephant ears,
and
admire exotic chickens. 
We went to the Santa Cruz County Fair last weekend for all that plus the vegetable sculpture show,
and, a blue-ribbon winning round rock collection. 
It was great fun and being greeted by a smiling eggplant made our day.
I love sharing the stories that come with my BMan photographs. Here's the last batch.
Even dummies had to "mask up" for dust storms.
Sunglasses were an easy way to get weird.
Hundreds of drones danced in the sky
Ahmet, the dear son I adopted last year, stopped by to visit with his girlfriend, Katerina.
When he's not burning he's performing surgeries in Amsterdam.
We made so many new friends. One morning our neighbor, Sahari, shared his Indian coffee.
Three volunteers at the performance stage (as a dust storm was passing through)
Our group, Miami's Fabulous Five
Mayan Warrior, a nightclub on wheels from Mexico City
The noodles were free but the line much too long
I love the way everyone lights their bikes. We need more of that in Miami!
Resting my dogs
I volunteered in the festival's media office. Here's a typical
person stopping by for assistance.
Yes, there were a few kids there but I am not sure why
Better to bring them when they've reached drinking age. Natalia and Dylan performing in the big tent
We could use some of these signs in Coconut Grove
Posted on a porto-potti.
My son, Ian, with Johnny Green*, our new friend from Taiwan. ( *his translation of Lin Shang-Shian whose last three letters spell his new friend's name, "Ian")
It's a good place to show off your over-the-top costume or naked body. Those folks comprise about 80% of the publicity and 2% of the BMan population. You're free to do your thing in Black Rock City.
Thanks to Burning Man '18, I now know there's a bright future for my driftwood collection.
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The world's coolest out-door art gallery pops up every year in the Nevada desert. Burning Man is a magnet for international over-the-top talent. Here is some of the art we got to see (and sometimes, climb) last week,
The huge Italian marionettes were back. In this vignette, a young woman listened to her grandfather's sagely advice.
Much of the art is participatory. Between shows, anyone could operate the mega-puppets by pulling long ropes.
The art can be dangerous too. We called this one "The Shishkabob". If you climbed past the seventh car you were treated to an open bar in the trailer.
It was obvious someone was going to fall and when they did, the sculpture was roped off and "no climbing" signs were erected.
Climbing this bear was safer but still an exciting experience. We need more playgrounds for adults.
When you got tired you could wander into shaded dome and collapse in a sea of huge, hug-able, teddy bears.
This emaciated 32-foot polar bear was made from white automobile hoods. In the evening images of calving glaciers was projected on to it.
An endless line of see-saw swings.
This year's theme was, "I, Robot" so there were mechanical creatures everywhere.
Our friend, David Date, putting finishing touches on his "Myriapoda Robota". When prompted, it would crawl centipede-style.
Little House on the Prairie with Robo Chicken Legs
When the robot danced, everyone danced!
This one was a gift from China.
The dust storm was gift from the state of Nevada.
Easier to read from the other side
Most of the sculptures lit up at night.
The one below transformed sound into intricate patterns of light. They moved through thirty hoops at the speed of sound. We rode our bikes through them much slower.
"Sonic Runway"
The Temple was a magnificent sight at night.
Every year it gets filled with photos and notes to loved ones lost.
On Sunday night it was set on fire in a solemn ceremony.
With all this going on,our crew of five had its own project. Everyday we set up an art studio next to The Man. We drew anyone wanting to sit for their (bad) portrait.
Every one we drew was bad enough to get certified.
Here I am with Tina, another satisfied customer. It was a thrill to be a small part of Burning Man 2018.
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Another outstanding photo by our friend, Mike Filippoff
