Amanda had graciously loaned me a peddle bike when I stated my quest to reach the trash fence following the previous day's failed attempt. It was a kid's bike, and a bitch to push. Erin said she'd join me, so off we went. The travels sailed by so much quicker, and I appreciated round wheels over bipedal motion. We saw the remnants of 'The Man' from the burn the night before, with embers still poker-red hot from the intensity. A small group of people gathered round the wreckage as if to pay homage, and mourn the end, and simultaneously welcome, the beginning, of so
mething new. I can only presuppose.
(NOTE: I rarely make up words, but I do tend to mis-use them from time to time) We continued on, pushing deeper into the unknown. Clear, sunny blue skies significantly helped the mood, and pushed away the disturbing thoughts from the night before. Success! The orange, plastic junk fence arrives! We ride for awhile on the perimeter, and see a view out of Mad Max: A solar-panelled DJ booth, each of 5 dark blueish rectangle radiating out of a silver flower's stem. Beside the music, a drape-laden caravan full of comfy bean-bag mattesses and bodies lying about. A rather buff fellow sporting buttless, tan-coloured leather pants and cowboy boots, and ginch. That's it. Not too wild in this environment, but his dancing put him in a whole new category. He was going from 'sprinkler' to 'shopping' to just grooving with all the beautiful hippy ch
icks. Erin and I joined that dance party, at 9 o'clock in the morning, we were dancing, and having a blast. I knew there was probably an hour and 1/2 of sleep between all 2o of them, and they weren't about the finish the night anytime soon. We were glad to have an experience to fuel a memory that will last forever.
Amanda had graciously loaned me a peddle bike when I stated my quest to reach the trash fence following the previous day's failed attempt. It was a kid's bike, and a bitch to push. Erin said she'd join me, so off we went. The travels sailed by so much quicker, and I appreciated round wheels over bipedal motion. We saw the remnants of 'The Man' from the burn the night before, with embers still poker-red hot from the intensity. A small group of people gathered round the wreckage as if to pay homage, and mourn the end, and simultaneously welcome, the beginning, of so
mething new. I can only presuppose. (NOTE: I rarely make up words, but I do tend to mis-use them from time to time) We continued on, pushing deeper into the unknown. Clear, sunny blue skies significantly helped the mood, and pushed away the disturbing thoughts from the night before. Success! The orange, plastic junk fence arrives! We ride for awhile on the perimeter, and see a view out of Mad Max: A solar-panelled DJ booth, each of 5 dark blueish rectangle radiating out of a silver flower's stem. Beside the music, a drape-laden caravan full of comfy bean-bag mattesses and bodies lying about. A rather buff fellow sporting buttless, tan-coloured leather pants and cowboy boots, and ginch. That's it. Not too wild in this environment, but his dancing put him in a whole new category. He was going from 'sprinkler' to 'shopping' to just grooving with all the beautiful hippy ch
icks. Erin and I joined that dance party, at 9 o'clock in the morning, we were dancing, and having a blast. I knew there was probably an hour and 1/2 of sleep between all 2o of them, and they weren't about the finish the night anytime soon. We were glad to have an experience to fuel a memory that will last forever.
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