..Death Valley.  1am. 

Can't sleep.  We're all sick with the flu, in the most beautiful spot I've seen in a long time.  Thanks to Neil's hearty grip on the wheel, we drove straight through from Santa Cruz to Death Valley without stopping (yes, there was music-making at a lovely ex-bank called Cayuga Vault).  When we woke up in heaven, we were all completely paralyzed with the flu. 

We had just enough time though, before the wretched disease completely threw us on our backs for 48 hours, to see Travis' parents' DATE FARM.  Middle of the desert, these people farm dates.  They are also helping maintain a small stream by pushing for its designation as a Wild & Scenic River, and by simply taking care of it.  Cool folks. 

Dates are a big topic, lots to learn.  The trees are dangerous, have strange, primitive sex lives (aided by humans) and I've learned more about them than I dare relate to you in my delerious, flu-ridden state.   On my pics page, there's one of  Travis showing you some ripe dates, ready to be shaken from the tree.  The old clothes keep the birds away.  Another pic (same place) shows Travis again, in the sorting room.  He grew up here, doing this.  And running around barefoot on the rocky, thorny hills & cliffs. 

After lots of date-talk and delicious date milkshakes, we got a special trip to the hot springs, which are in the middle of a big open plain between two rocky ridges.  We were the only ones there, on a saturday.  In fact, we have yet to see another human being since we left the highway, except Travis' parents and their groovy staff at the ranch.  The path to the hotsprings is marked by a sign that we just couldn't take seriously (see bottom row of pics on my pics page).

"Mud mites?"  yeah, sure!  In a way, I guess we cursed ourselves by so foolheartedly admonishing its warning.  Same as when we said "aw, those 'check engine soon' lights just come on sometimes for no reason!" and kept singing songs of the seventies at the top of our lungs while we were lost in Gilroy.  As you can see, we enjoyed the mudbath/hotsprings without hesitation, and nobody was bitten.  And the van is still going.  ..

But we are super-sick.   Ooh boy, gotta go.

A large pack of coyote visited us around 3am today.  They yipped and hollered and cried.  I am ready for them to visit again - I put two mics out to record them.  If I succeed, I'll put it up as a song tomorrow on my music player thingy.

Exhausted,

Jim