Here we are on Memorial Day weekend at the Meadow Muffin, a yearly music and camping party, 2007 dubbed “One For Irish” for Unreal Band guitarist Pat Quinn (that’s him in the photo in front of the stage), who had died just a year before. I’m on bass and vocals, Steve on lead vocal and rhythm guitar with the Cavepainters–w John Ingham on harp, Rick Purcell playing mandolin, Barry Gorin on drums, and guitar help by Matt Parker, because Ed broke his arm dancing and had to go to the hospital. 
A shot of Jean Hooker, now departed, holding the CAVEPAINTERS live at KPFA cd cover that I designed.
Sharon’s Tacoma, Mike’s 4x van–and a view of the road from the stage camp to the Meadow.
A month later Stevie and I drove Betsy, our 1957 VW van, to Black Butte River Ranch at the confluence of the Black Butte and South Fork Eel Rivers to camp and play the July 4 weekend party with the Cavepainters 
(no photo?) The water was high, the swimming and hiking spectacular.
Afterwards Steve and I took the back road out of camp and east into Mendocino National Forest for a couple of days, where I chased down and photographed this fat rattler scurrying through the pine needles near our campsite.
For Steve’s birthday i. I signed us up for an Electric car workshop near Hopland in October. In between the class and the field trip, we spent a night camping near Jenner, Navarro River, at Paul Dimmick State Beach. I discovered the secret of winter camping: I wear at least four layers, and big black fleece lined boots I bought in South Tahoe, with 2 pairs of socks. Here is Steve celebrating our completion of the first day by making us Bloody Marys
in the sea mist and smoke, 10/13/07.
The class instructor Steve Heckroth’s property has a really interesting agglomeration of hand-made buildings. 
He says Electricity has properties very much like water. He trained with Stanley Ovshinsky, who designed and manufactured a kind of solar contact paper for metal panel roofing, and super-efficient batteries, and held many innovative patents. Really did not expect to meet so many functional people.
Afterwards we drove through Albion north to Van Damme State Park, Site #3, Russian Gulch. Showers, and pizza on the camp fire oven. And BATS. Ft Bragg, Willits, around Clear Lake, through Yuba City, Auburn, Placerville, Rt 49 South to Plymouth, east on Fiddletown Road, Shake Ridge, Inland to Pi Pi Campground off Rt 88, El Dorado National Forest. 5000 ft, beautiful, oaks turning brilliant yellow, bright red and peach pink dogwoods.
“Above” Bridgeport Reservoir, 182, Too Cold! Windy! I think I lost my hat. Incredible color, everything is YELLOW Some orange and pink. Steak, potatoes and corn, bitter windy cold and clear skies. Too wild to make coffee, we split for Bridgeport and had breakfast at Sportsman’s Bar, then a scalding bath in the bitter wind at Travertine Hot Springs. Then on to Cherry Lake, where there is No Camping, it’s winter! Nowhere even to stop for a photograph.
On the way home, we swung by Yosemite, Hetch Hetchy, 
10/17/07
Mersey Hot Springs 10/19 
and the Pinnacles
In November, after the big Coso Busan oil spill, we went for several hikes around the bay, including to see this super-high tide, 
We spent Christmas in Palmdale that year, as usual. Steve forgot his backpack, and flashlight. I forgot my camera, so I bought a new digital Nikon, with vivid, and black-and-white settings, and museum mode, which is a silent, no flash, low-light setting. Palmdale seems so much calmer this year.
After Christmas we headed to Death Valley, back to stay at the Minetta Mine adopt-a-cabin in the Panamints, 12.27.07 
We didn’t stay inside partly due to the stacks of handouts on HANTA VIRUS– although all foodstuffs are secured in plastic boxes in the not-working fridge, I felt better sleeping in my own bedding in the 4Runner.. That night I had some vivid dreams. Professor Chickenman had a party in his rooms with waaaay too many people, and some huggable chicken people were there, plus one or two ‘drone” people, unable to talk, much less teach at the University. Professor Chickenman was hitting on me, we was about the size of a chicken, or as I later found out, a Chukar. He didn’t appreciate being called Chicken-Man. He had a tiny head and no beak but a pointy beard. I struggled to get outside, and squeezed out through the throngs like a grapefruit seed–poink!
The next day we headed east, through Ballarat and Goler wash, and dropped down to Warm Springs camp, another volunteer-maintained site 
where we were cozier and more relaxed making our own camp and sleeping in our own 4Runner. The spring was great, and warm!
Happy New Year!
Travels With Stevie 