As threatened, part duh.
Looking pretty close to the east from the Shootout 1.5 mile mark. The red arrow is (I bleeve) the 2 mile.
Turned around and pointing northeast, toward the swale between the mountains. If that has a name, I wish someone would tell me (and I'd remember it.) There were a few pools of standing (or blown, cuz the wind was between 20 and 40 mph from the north, using my uncalibrated finger anemometer, validated by Texican's report of the weather reports via the web.)
...and back at Lands End. The red arrow points at my Burb.
The closer I got (I was runnin out of breath...what little of it I have...fighting the headwind - It had been a pleasant stroll the other way with the tailwind - Temperature ranged from around 60 to 72 according to the Burb-o-meter)...the more crowded (and weirder) it got.
There was a horse trailer and numerous touristas.
To quote from the "father of Gonzo journalism", Hunter S. Thompson, "When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro."
Ok. I admit it. I set this one up. In the previous photo, there's a white Charger that was driven by a coupla guys who looked for all the world like they'd be US servicemen. Turns out that they were Italian touristas. But I talked 'em into carrying the rubber boat that I'd brought along and having Polito (I think that was his name) and the other guy (his name was....something else. Frikkin memory!) carry the boat and pose as if setting sail for Naples. They asked, "are we gonna be famous?" I thought of the Andy Warhol's deal about everyone having 15 minutes of fame, so I told 'em that they'd be "on the internet" and that was about as famous as I could make 'em. LOL! But they were good sports and we all had fun doing it.
Then I looked up and saw a familiar t-shirt:
I went over and talked to her and it turns out that her sister runs the Enola Gay cafe. We'd met before and when I handed her my business card, she said, "Ohh...I know you." I told her that if she did, she prolly also knew that I had about zero memory.
I went back to the Burb and a coupla Canadian guys came over. One of 'em told me a story about driving toward Lands End in the dark when no event was in progress and almost gettin killed when he drove off the end of the world. He suggested to me that "somebody otta do something about that." When I told him that the speed limit was 45 and there was no state maintenance on the road, he started to get a little irritated...but I told him that since people had been racing on the salt for 100 years or so that maybe in another hundred, we'd have a nice fence for him to run into. That kinda ended that.
And then it turned pro (see above):
My younger son, his wife and my 2 grandkids came out to wish me a happy BD. We decided to see if Josie (Josephine) wanted to pose for a photo shoot. And so the boat went back into the pool and she didn't have a clue was going on. But I like the photo.
Then I ran into Carlos who was also there for a recon visit; later after a bite at the Salt Flats Cafe, TR (Tommy) and his wife saw my Burb and came by to say Hi and also wished me wonna them BD things.
So. That's the end of my report. Draw yer own conclusions as to what will happen for WF and the Shootout rain date...I can't do it...I dropped my crystal ball in wonna the pools and lost it.
