The second half of our Spring Break sojourn. We went from feeling enveloped by the trees and dampness of Big Sur to being laid open books yellowing in the summer sun. It was a perfect counter balance. Beginning with our cabin, Rattler Ranch was an ideal home away. Not too precious, but with just enough to make it feel like we were home in the middle of nowhere. The owner, Diane Best, and her extraordinary paintings brought back memories of the desert I grew up in in the seventies: bare, wide open, strip mall-less, golf-course-less, with the occasional dilapidated shack. We found ourselves chanting at Bhakti Fest as the full moon rose, eating New York-style pizza, trying (unsuccessfully this time) to get a sound bath at the Integratron, scraping our knees on rough granite boulders in the State Park, counting the colors of the wildflowers, making sunprints, walking like outlaws through Pioneertown, and catching open-mic night at the saloon Pappy & Harriet's. It was fabulous. Nico and Mateo also found a new appreciation for cowboy hats. They caught the eye of everyone in town.