All posts by Ivan Saltz

Cape Perpetua

Of all the beautiful places in the world, the Oregon coast is still one of my favorites. It has a palpable raw energy in its forests and in the ocean crashing against the rocks. The area has an ancient soul, a place where one can feel the tree spirits, the animal spirits and the rock spirits.

Treacherous cliffs dive into the Pacific Ocean, sending foamy waves to meet the oncoming surf from across the world.

Trails meander from sand beaches and rocky plateaus into old growth forests where the Ents of Fangorn from Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings have come to life. They guard the undergrowth with craggy branches and shadowy, hobbit-sized holes in their living trunks. One is almost fearful to walk too loud, lest they awake and snatch you from the path.

The dampness of the rain forest is a constant companion. In the evening, a cloud blanket rolls in from the distant horizon, like a fog in a B sci-fi movie. It comes closer and larger until it covers the beach, the rocks, and the forest. Under this shroud of cloud, our campfire is uncomfortable, perhaps too well aware of it’s old enemy:  water.

On the rocky crags, the Pacific churns into the crevices with deadly force. Or it blows through holes creating a geyser of salty spray. In some places, the ocean decorates the sand beaches with a driftwood forest.

We camped at Cape Perpetua, originally named in 1778 by Capt James Cook while looking for the western entrance to the mythical Northwest Passage.  In those same ancient bays, whales still cruise for dinner, oblivious of us onlookers.

In 1933, the Civilian Conservation Corps which President FDR formed to put people to work during the Great Depression, built a stone shelter on the highest point of the coast. At 800 feet above sea level, one can see 37 miles out from the shore. The shelter was used as a lookout during World War II. Maybe we should stay up here and watch for North Korean missiles.


My Burning (Man) Thoughts and Reflections

The original Burning Man arts and music festival is held at the end of August in the Black Rock Desert in Nevada. What makes this particular festival unique is that there are no paid performers. The art and entertainment of many kinds is brought into the desert by the participants themselves for the benefit of other participants.

When I started attending in 2003, the paradigm worked well. There were few “just spectators”. In a city of 25,000, there was art, warmth, sharing and cooperation wherever you went. The week was pure fun and life-affirming.

The attendance is now on the scale of 70,000 people, and attitudes are different. I won’t go so far as to say that the original culture is completely lost, but it’s being kept alive by an ever shrinking percentage of “experienced” participants, “Burners” if you will.

Crowded art car 11 years ago.

By way of example, art cars typify this culture loss in a nutshell. In earlier years, art cars would stop for random attendees and take them to where ever they happened to be going. That was the whole point of Burning Man – art cars were created to share with other participants. Now, one can ask an art car for a ride and the response will typically be “it’s only for our camp,” even though it’s nearly empty. The idea that sharing includes the community as a whole has been diminished into exclusive cliques that bring bars and art only for their own campmates. The culture of collective cooperation is evaporating like moisture in a hot desert.

Burning Man is still an experience to be garnered. The scale of the event alone is a sight to behold. It is now the size of my childhood town. The fact that out of empty desert, a small city comes alive,  and then evaporates in a matter of days, is in itself a wonder and an affirmation of human industry. The fact that Burning Man is the largest Leave No Trace event in the world is another unmatched achievement. The variety of art, sharing and gifting is expansive. All these things are worth experiencing.

Burning Man has spawned an entire world of much smaller, much more intimate, participant-created festivals based on the original culture. These are called “regional” Burning Man events. Some are sanctioned and official;  others are not.

For us, these regional events are where the heart lies. They have the culture and the personal interactions that were the very core of the original festival. We’re thrilled to attend these Burner events we find everywhere in the world.

Modus Transportandi

Due to a certain confluence of destinies, we have decided to remain in North America for a year or more before continuing our adventures in strange lands. But of course, considering who is President of the USA, perhaps it’s the strangest land of all!

When we were in New Zealand, we saw for the first time a Mercedes Sprinter camper conversion. It left an indelible impression. So when we landed in South Florida last January, we started scouring the ads.

We now own the perfect conversion van for two people. It has a good size refrigerator/freezer, two-burner stove, big hanging locker (closet), bathroom, heat, air conditioning, microwave, hot and cold running water and tons of cabinet space. We have so much more room than we had in our two suitcases and backpacks that we must have almost doubled our possessions!!

After South Florida, we spent four months in Toronto with Deena’s new granddaughter. Then we hurried off to Missouri to visit friends that just happened to live in the path of total eclipse. I didn’t have much faith that summer plains-weather would be cooperative and I was right. But for us, its always about the people anyway. We had a great tailgate party under the clouds. It got dark. It got light. We weren’t chased out of town by torch-carrying crowds blaming Yankee white liberals for their crop loss or something. It was a great visit.

We then took Horace Greeley’s advice and headed west for Burning Man.