While we were frolicking in the desert, people in Syria were dying. I have no idea if they are going to be sucessful in getting rid of their president – dictator, really –  Bashar al-Assad. Iran would indicate that they might not, Libya indicates that they might have a chance.

Syria is so far away and seems so alien that it is hard to relate, but there is a blogger who is there and is she is fascinating to read. The blog is A Gay Girl In Damascus. A Gay Girl In Damascus is a real person and the tagline on her blog says An out Syrian lesbian’s thoughts on life, the universe and so on …

For the last couple of months, the so on has been a front seat on the Syrian revolt. It is fascinating and horrifying day to day chronicle from a woman living in Damascus.  On some days, I think she is Wael Ghonim, the Egyptian Google manager; on other days, I think she is Ann Frank. Either way, she is smart, sophisticated, on the run, and punching back with her blog when ever she can.

Here she talks about her father standing up to some thugs. I think that was about the time that her mother and sisters left the country and she and her father went underground.

For awhile, her blog has been optimistic, then fatalistic when she has post titled We won’t be forgotten, then defiant when she says  And when we mourned our dead, they tried the only language that they know, of force and blood … and more died as martyrs for our freedom. But we will not stop until freedom.

Going out into the streets and not knowing if I am going to be killed or worse, picked up and tortured is inconceivable to me. But this blog makes it real, gives it a very human face.

Please give it a read. Gay Girl in Damascus.

For another take on this trip and some beautiful pictures, be sure to check out Peter Kuhlman’s blog. Really! Day one is here and here. My version of day one is below. Now back to the story.

The sun woke us early even though it was still chilly. I peaked out of my bag just long enough to see that it had a nice layer of frost and that Peter was sitting up, taking a picture. Probably of the sunrise, but I wasn’t going to find out this early.  The sun got higher – but still pretty low – the temp got warmer, and we got up. Most of the clouds from yesterday were gone and the day looked very promising.

As we had our morning coffee and tea, looking over the Smoke Creek playa, everything was backlit and the morning was glorious.

We went for a walk up the closest canyon starting by walking through the backlit grass and sage. .

In the canyon, everything was glowing,

Especially the blooming sage. (Probably Salvia dorrii which is a mild hallucinogen when smoked. Backlit, it was pretty hallucinogenic without smoking.)

As we got further up canyon, we ran into pools of water and steeper rock.

And, as we walked up the canyon, we ran into pools of water and steeper cliffs. As an aside, I completely understand why most Arab flags are green. It is a color that is rare in the desert and it should be respected and honored. End aside.

When we had gone about as far as a couple of old men can do without any heroics, we turned around and wandered back to the truck. Back through the grass and lots of hidden rocks.

Then it was down the hill and on to Planet X. Except that – while driving down the dirt road – the steering seemed to lock up while trying to get around a rock. I backed up and tried again and the steering worked fine. Then it locked up again. Again, I backed up and everything was fine. This left me very worried and I was still worried after – at Bruno’s gas station and garage – a mechanic crawled under the front end and said everything was fine.

We pressed on to Planet X.

Planet X is a pottery manufacturer – somehow that is not a good descriptor and potter doesn’t seem to work, either, maybe potter and artists –  owned by Rachel and John Bogard. I stop by about once a year and they don’t really know me, but Michele spent a week there taking a painting class, so they sort of know me through her.  We, also, had to stop by because Planet X is one of the obligatory sights and because they always have a big sale around Memorial Day.   And they make some very nice pottery. Here is one of their pots with whole wheat pasta and roasted tomatoes.

To be continued….and check out Peter’s Blog for a different take on the trip and some very nice pictures.

Sunday morning, I left to meet Peter Kuhlman  at Bruno’s Country Club Casino in Gerlach, Nevada. There are several ways to get to Gerlach from the Bay Area and they all start out on the freeway and end up on gravel or seldom used tarmac. Taking pictures of the drive to northern – actually northwestern – Nevada – explains it all. For the first half or more of the trip, when I want to take a picture, I have to find an overcrossing where I can pull off the highway; then, as I get closer, I pull over to the side of the road to take a shot; then, when I am almost where I want to go, I just stop in the middle of the road – get out – and take the picture.

But, way before I stopped in the middle of the road, I ran into snow going over the Sierras. Snow in the Sierras on Memorial Day – come on! In retrospect, I should have expected snow – it was raining the Bay Area the day before – but it did surprise me. Still, it wasn’t sticking so I decided to take a backroad route that Mike Moore had recommended. I got off the freeway at Truckee. It was a great suggestion, taking me through Sierraville California and by Sierra Vally for the first time.

It continued to snow all the way to Sierraville but the snow never stuck and, then, I then dropped below the snow line and skirted Sierra Valley. Watching shower spots – for lack of a better word – move across the valley. As I left the valley, I began to get concerned. The snow ahead of me looked lower than I expected.

On Saturday, the weather forecast was for possible snow on Saturday and Saturday night in Gerlach, but clearing on Sunday. I was confident that it was accurate, loosing my confidence only as the roads got narrower and less used. I kept looking ahead where it was snowing and thinking of alternate plans to camping out in the – in my now active imagination – rain or snow, or worse, cold, almost snow.

Finally, just as I was getting to Sand Pass overlooking the Smoke Creek Desert, the sun broke out.

At Sand Pass, I looked ahead and saw lots of blue sky and even more running down the west side of the Smoke Creek, past an old, long abandoned, farm; I was sure the weather would work out. On to Bruno’s to meet Peter.

But Peter wasn’t at the bar where I was sure I would find him because I was a couple of minutes late. At the bar, I nursed a drink; sure that Peter was going to show up any minute. Finally, an hour after our meeting time, I got worried and went out to check my phone. When I had arrived at Bruno’s, I had checked all the cars in the parking lot for Idaho plates, what I hadn’t noticed was the car parked across the street, parked the other way. It turned out to be Peter, waiting for me outside of Bruno’s watching the road for my arrival. My backroad entry with 60 miles of gravel roads brought me in the back way and had had thrown him off.

After loading up the Range Rover, we drove back to the Smoke creek and then up a dirt road that took us through fields of wild grasses – all backlit  – to a great spot overlooking the desert. Dinner was marinated chicken thighs  from Ikeda’s Country Market with roasted potatoes and greens.

After sunset, it turned even colder and we climbed into our bags early for a – hopefully – nice sleep.  To be continued….