Effigy -- Art -- More Art -- Cranky -- Yum -- Creek -- Camp -- Caber Toss -- Moulin Tradge -- Nose Dive -- Effigy Night -- Fire Play -- Burn

It usually rains at Flipside, but not so frequently as it did this time. I'll refer you to J's account of how our tent and shade structure bore up.

Our neighbors across the street had the same sad story. The girl with the F&S tent woke up in a puddle. You go to hell, F&S. You go to hell and sit on the Devil's lap as he tells you his sad story, and cries tears of molten sulfur. You go to hell with your rainfly.

Our camp was the first to the left of the greeters' station on Pyropolis Highway North. This made us, I believe, the highest camp in the place, since at its extreme left, Pyropolis Highway rises above the central hill. We made the trek from Flipside's right, low side to our camp over and over each day. Other folks made use of various conveyances.

Being as far away as we were we didn't get many guests. I was very pleased with this little guy. He's so cute, so shiny and stumpy, not like the long skinny grasshoppers we get in California. I was much nicer to him than I normally am to plant-eating pests. And apparently it paid off. After I put him outside our tent I went to the center again, carrying my salt because of all the free food. Then I lost it, which was quite an inconvenience. But when I returned to The Lumber Yard that night for another yummy Bloody Mary and pickles, someone pointed out there was a grasshopper crawling around on their table. He was shiny and stumpy, and he was sitting on my lost salt^*. It's not so incredible if you remember that grasshoppers can get around faster than people.

Here is another campsite bug.

^*Anyhow it looked like my salt (Morton's), so I took it.

	Text and images © 2007 D. Aline Lurie	-->