A week of trash.
Rebar is my friend -- it keeps the camp secured to the ground during heavy winds.
My (now empty) space.
The road out.
The day before Burning Man, when I was in Reno, my "check engine" light came on.
I had time to take the van to a local chevy dealer, but I decided to wait and see if
the light would go off. I was afraid that if mechanics saw my Ohio license plates
and concluded (from the stuff in my van) that I was going to Burning Man, they might
screw with me. I accidently used premium gas during my last fill-up, and gas type
is one of the things that can cause the "check engine" light to come on. It was
on all the way to Burning Man. On my way out, however, I saw that the desert had
cured my van. The light is off. The good spirits are with me.
Leaving the playa as I reach the paved road.
In the nearby town of Gerlach, I donate my bicycle to someone who is set up to
collect Burning Man bikes.
That pleasant feeling of being alone on the road.
My first stop is Winnemucca Mountain which has a dump on the back side. I
disposed of my trash and most of my camp structure.
Next stop is Elko, Nevada where I wash the van.
And I wash the chairs.
Driving across Nevada.
A cloud casts a shadow precisely onto a mountain.
By sundown (in my side mirror), I am heading into Salt Lake City.
A picture taken the next morning shows how close to my motel door I could park,
making it easy to bring everything in for a good cleaning. From here I can reach Moab
in time for dinner.
Leaving
I left Burning Man two days early so that I could hang out in Moab, Utah for a few days on my way home. After 45,000 people at Burning Man, it will be nice to have some time alone. It is also nice to beat the traffic out of Black Rock City. Here I am taking down my camp.