Quechua folding tent – the real world

So, I have this tent that I have temporarily inherited from my new dearest friends from Ireland and Spain. Part of the reason I have it is that we couldn’t figure out how to fold it up in time to meet a train, etc, so now it’s at my place. No problem! I’ll fold it! How hard can it be? It comes with instructions and Marisa even sent me a link to the manufacturer’s website that has a video that you can follow along from home. Um. Still not obvious. Wait, let me just show you:

Stunning evening!

I wish I had taken a camera out.

After an unsatisfying meal at the Commissary, I returned home to find Eva and Hollis finishing cooking an amazing BBQ chicken dinner. And me too stuffed to participate.

I focussed on leveling the RV, tying down the shade structure to the RV, adding outdoor speakers to the shade area so that the music can be better enjoyed by those enjoying the shade, etc. And I added my silly blue ground effect  LED lights under the RV.

Invited Eva and Hollis to hang out under the porch to watch an amazing full moon rise and lounge in chairs and hammock and listen to Thom Yorke followed by the new Underworld album. All so relaxing. We sort of mumbled to one another as we drifted away into half slumber. No breeze, maybe 75 degrees, slight cloud cover.

Of course, they rallied for bed and I headed to the Artery to write this. Wow! What a change in circumstances. In about 30 minutes the dead calm turned to 30 mph winds and intermittent whiteouts. By the time I rode my bike back home I found that the porch had lifted and dropped 3 out of 4 supports and was floating in the wind, threatening to take off. I brought Lampy’s trailer around to act as tie-down anchor and re-secured all four points. Seemed like that would do the trick.

I couldn’t light the hot water heater in the now gale force wind so elected for a refreshing cold shower and then to bed. Sort of. The wind was so strong that I couldn’t sleep as I kept awakening to what I feared was the porch flying away, tearing out its roof supports on the way. Not a great rest but much better than being in a tent.

Day of rest

Believe it or not most of DPW is taking the day off and other depts seem to be following suit. Not sure if this is actually a Sabbath observation or just that it’s been close to 104 degrees every day and everyone’s been working hard.

I was able to get all of the radios accounted for, cataloged, labeled, prepped for Artery operations and all tracked in my fancy new 3-ring binder that I hope to hand off successfully to Shift Leads next week. It would be really good for me to finally learn some basic MySQL/PHP coding so that I can throw all of this into a web-accessible database. Lisa has similar needs/issues in terms of tracking fuel disbursements. I think we all spend a disproportionate amount of time messing with Excel. Because it’s fast and easy!

Some GPS issues. Not sure if these are due to math, improper survey of perimeter fence or something with the Garmin eTrex Legend units. I thought this was all getting easier but now I think not.

Easy work

So, the first full day of Artery duties went super easy. The structure was already up. The office is not only up but has been properly connected to our properly sized generator pending grid power. All the radios were delivered and are (mostly) accounted for. I think I can figure out the two whose whereabouts aren’t immediately known.

Early Man burn is tonight: Otto has some new Durka-Durka Man (re: Trey & Matt) sculpture to torch for us.

Lampy refurb

Thank you, Michael Sturtz, for all of your dilligence in getting Lampy back in good working order. I was just looking for some help banging out the tail and fixing some broken welds that resulted in Dann Davis’ fateful Ramp of Death flight last year:

So, with a little work and a lot of skill, Michael whacked her back into shape, gave her a tune-up, determined the electric starter was a non-starter and re-worked the weed-burner flame effect. And the lights are working again!

Lampy refurb Lampy refurb Lampy refurb

Camp Carp ’07

Yep, there’s a Carp. Nope, it’s not listed on burningman.com.
The Sign Shop, led by the illustrious and resourceful Hormel, has led the charge, nailed down the location of the Carp box and we’re awaiting the arrival of the Carp van in the next day or so. Rumor has it that it’s already here awaiting delivery from the depot. Mel is in regular consultation with Russ and all is well.

So, where are we located? Right on the corner of 3:30 and Esplanade (a la 2005?) but Deep Carp extends between Arctic and Boreal. Holy carp, are there really that many people on the way? Death Guild is at 3:45-ish and I suppose that puts Cowboys at 4:00.


Here’s a little map of Carp, Deep Carp and where I’ve parked my RV (note that the imagery on Google Maps is from ’06):


One word of heads up: it’s dusty so far. We were in a near constant whiteout from 8am until around 5:30pm today. *whew*  Here’s hoping the wind is calmed down tomorrow.

Headed for Trego…

On the road again

Well, I’m back on the road again. You may have noticed my RV on the side of 447 about 30 mi south of Empire yesterday. Not long after I left you all enjoying Barbara’s hot dogs (did I mention that I received a police escort out the 12mi entrance, completely circumventing Exodus?) my alternator decided that the midpoint between Empire and Nixon would be the ideal location to give up the ghost.Unfortunately, I was giving a ride to a couple of Canadian friends who needed to catch a flight the next morning at 6am. Fortunately, some other Burners stopped and took them and their luggage off to Reno. Carmen, a local tow truck driver checked us out, but after determining that the alternator was kaput, took off for better hunting (he’d heard that some other Burners wanted to leave behind a school bus and he was off to check it out). So, we were somewhat stranded, sitting atop the RV in the near full moonlight looking out over the valley and watching the stream of poorly packed burner-mobiles zoom past.Until we met Tripp. Who was a trip. A cracked out Giligan on speed. He and a couple of his Ranger buddies (go figure) and his three-day old girlfriend-for-life were caravaning to Reno when they pulled over behind us looking for someone to drive his Jeep while he rode in one of the other vehicles. He was “out of gas”, “completely fried, dude!” So, it kind of worked out. We drove to Nixon, spent 30 minutes dealing with AAA only to discover that they didn’t have a means of towing us that night. We ended up driving Tripp’s Jeep to Sparks and staying the night in the Western Village (not recommended) until we could try for another tow the next day. Oh, I was planning on having the vehicle towed that night so I brought nothing with me to Sparks beyond my wallet and phone. In my exhaustion I ended up drinking one of my contacts that I had left in a plastic cup on the sink. Nice.Long and short: got breakfast at Sierra Sid’s (nice gun collection), got a rental “car” – a massive Dodge Ram, sought out a couple of alternator options, bought a 1/2″ ratchet set and then blasted off to the RV. Saw Justin and the rocket car heading westbound on 80. Found a message from Wendy (Washoe County Sheriff’s deputy) on the RV and some NV State Patrol grease pen on the rear window but the vehicle and contents were intact.Anyone familiar with the correct way of managing tension on a GMC serpentine belt? Not me. A combination of ratchet strap and a jack handle ended up working ok but my ignorance certainly added to time to the job. Just as I topped off jumping the battery a trooper pulled up and, in a rather sour mood, asked me not to lean on his passenger side door as I told him the vehicle was ready to roll and we were just leaving. Nice timing, pal.Stayed the night in Reno. Pneumatic Cafe was closed “for personnel reasons”. Met a group of Burners on the sidewalk and I led them along the river walk to that coffee shop where Virginia crosses the river but all they had was coffee and quiche at the hour. Lia lost a flip-flop when she and one of the girls did a spontaneous leap into the fountain. Ended up eating at a new-ish bar & grill and am glad that we did. These folks were a laugh riot and I think we scared some of the patrons off of the patio. The beautiful South African had a the oddest gasping/hooting/high-pitched laugh I’ve ever heard. Many stories were told. Ask me later, I’ve got good ones about Richard Simmons and Bruce Springsteen.Now we’re off to the Sierras and Santa Monica. Anyone got some good hot springs recommendations between here and there?