POP: I’M ABOUT FIVE HOURS AWAY >>>

Stayed the night at Summer Lake hippie camp commune. Driving in, the red Christmas lights over the hand painted “office” sign shone below blue black clouds christened by an almost full moon. The romance of the Oregon Outback was in the air, almost as lovely as Laura's former Monsoon Room lounge on Hilltop. 

Handmade beeswax candles greeted Jaguar Heart and I, then an almost immobile, dusty Dwayne moaned, "Howdy," like a rope stretching boat to moor at Thea’s Landing.

"You git the Streamline," he belched.

"Thank you," I replied.

"S'ovah there,” he said, pointing a red laser outside to a vintage, 1950s silver, worse-for-the-wear rig in the dust. 

"Thank you," I said. "Umm, Dwayne? It has linens, right?"

Umm, yup,” he said with a blank look.

I cautiously moved my eyes to Jaguar and with keen, super seasoned Burner awareness I paused.

"Dwayne, they're clean, right?” I asked. “The sheets?"

His less than focused gaze remained unchanged as he slowly remembered, "Welp, we had 200 Burners campin' last night. Lot of 'em in the springs. I think I forgot to change em â€" the sheets. Girl who slept there looked real nice though. Maybe they weren't used much."

I am thankful for my REI sleeping bag, and my anal organized approach to packing. I yanked out my turquoise faux fur, an UWTacoma grad polar fleece blanket, my toothbrush and Jaguar's mesa. Locked the truck.

Wasn't quite the same as a Hotel Murano. The door lock, ummm, didn't exist. A rope somehow was supposed to secure our safety, but … um … I couldn't figure out how. 

So, Jag and I slept toe to toe, all cozy with our big ass Home Depot flashlight, a sentimental salmon fish bat/wacker and my Blackberry between us â€" just in case we had an unwanted, frisky visitor in the night. (Thank you Charger for both weapons, XOXOXOoooxoxoox!).

This morning all the other freaks had left so we walked to the Mesa to do Jaguar Heart's Peruvian shaman morning tobacco ritual. She guided me as we cleared Hucha (negative energies), took in the breath of heaven and earth, and called in the energy of the directions in prayer. My hair flying in the desert sky, I felt downright Nisqually. (I love you, Billy Frank!)

Then we got naked and jumped in the hot springs.

Ode to life.
Ahhhh, Blessed Be.
This for now. That for later.
Kisses to you and almost to the Playa!

All my love, and wish you were here!
XoxoxotoxoxoPop

(As in the sound our aluminum trailer roof made as it croaked its way expanding and contracting into desert morning.)

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