Steve Snedeker’s Landscaping and Gardening Blog

Since Burning Man begins in a month – always over the Labor Day weekend, giving yet another insane rendering of “Labor” – and make no mistake, for those Black Rock Rangers and the other intrepid workers who lay out and construct what you see below – there is a ton of work they labor at, in a pleasure so pure it hurts:

(left click images to enlarge)

In the end, a city of 40,000 campers looks just like this:

The efforts get cleaned in a rather dramatic fashion, later, including the burning, as mentioned below, of everything, no matter how temporarily cool:

I’m doing this post to please a friend who asked about what all the hubub was over Burning Man. She had never heard of it. Since I’ve been there, I have my own very personal opinion. So, Marcia – here ya go. The event is coming soon. Adventurous, thought-provoking, anarchistic, artistic – the adjectives flow like water over the Niagra Falls………..in the end, while it is indescribably interesting, make no mistake – it’s fun!

I guess I’m stretching a bit to present what to many is a scandalously misunderstood event in here in my nice conservative, construction and design-related blog, but I feel somehow almost obligated to. I enjoy sharing my life in every way and I obviously appreciate products I consider items of artistic genius.

My interest in this popular and controversial event  stems from these underpinnings. And I am one who fully believes Burning Man is an event of Timeless value.  There are many sayings and diatribes on how we contaminate reality with belief, but the purity of the vision here and the enthusiasm of its participants, is wholly off the charts. This event is unique in the world – thus drawing so many travelers who design visits around it. I guess that pretty much says it all.

(click any image to enlarge)

Burning Man is a week-long event of something more than epic proportions, held on the same “playa” or lake bed where the world land speed record was set a few years ago by the crazed Englishman piloting a virtual jet car at above the speed of sound. Gerlach, Nevada is about 60 miles Northest of Reno and it is an otherwise sleepy, oppressively hot burg of a scattered population of every political persuasion known to man. But the world class events which happen out its front windows are some crazy stuff.

What began in 1986 with a few guys hoisting up an 8′ high wooden “Man” and then setting the sucker on fire on Baker Beach in San Fransisco, has now evolved into something of a virtual culture. This year, 48,000 people will congregate in the Black Rock Desert to participate in this year’s version of Burning Man – a festival like absolutely no other. Here, from the Burning Man’s own website is the timeline and history of the event.

You can see some strange stuff out there!

Nature gets gorgeous and pretty crazy during a stay in the desert like this. One sure needs good shades, some serious sun screen and a ton of water. Dust storms are normal, not rare – it seems every year is good for a nasty, good sized dust storm: Here comes one now!

But Nature also gives………..

It may surprise people to realize that the average age of a Burning Man attendee is around 35. After a walk around, through all the amazingly well-organized streets of campers, sporting silliness and wonder, it becomes more obvious.

Burning Man is a “barter zone” – money is only allowed for use at the Main Tent for coffee, lemonades and for the purchase of Ice. Otherwise, you can leave your wallet back where “civilization” rules. The Burning Man experience is so creative, large and literally engulfing, that you find yourself contributing. In the end, in fact, this is the energy behind the event. It has indeed become something of a culture of its own, led by enterprising artists and Internet-savvy art geeks and it provides a wonder of stuff – nearly indescribable, really. Night time scenes see amazing high tech lighting and nocturnally-inspired art work:

And the “Mobile Art”, lol. The Art Cars have institued their own world of whimsy, now featuring an Art Car Festival in Houston, Texas and a natural outgrowth of the male need to tinker and play, lol. Needless to say, these were always my favorites:

Some are just for fun

Some are more serious:

And these are just the “cars”. The art?

This is what grownups can do, lol…………

A pretty solid visual feast, no matter how you look at it.

Then it disappears – in 3 days, it will be as if no one had even been there.

From these, the Fire Temple of wood, above and two years of The Man below:

2008:

From this……….

To this:

It’s all good, interesting, exciting and always weird  – which is the point. It’s is the single most Artistical Artical Event ever.

Kablooey!

(enlarge pictures by left clicking)

Bobby’s freshly unceremonious ceremony…………. Perfectly-held for the man who may have been the least pretentious person his friends and acquaintances will ever meet in their entire lives.

We really and truly had a great crowd……..there were some tears, some grateful and comforting and oh-so-human hugs and lots of laughter in an absolutely captivating series of loving memories. If I had to capsulize my impression of things, I would probably say the day was an utter delight – in spite of its function – which was also served.

Saying goodbye.

Bobby’s daughter Morgan and her friends and equally gorgeous soccer mates were there to provide the perfect splash of youth, beauty and the caring spirit which Bobby was always so instrumental in somehow manufacturing in a world which seems not to value that as much as it once may have. His touch was everywhere, in the modest and grateful spirit of his wife, Kim and in the freshly-bereaved Morgan, whose support system is the envy of the English-speaking world. (She is the beauty on the left in the picture below). Let me be as clear as possible – these are some of the nicest persons on the planet.

Let me add this, in praise to the arrangers – of whom there were so many. If food were a measure of a man, judging by what was given at this event, Bobby Miller was a daggone Giant. Suffice it to say, the comfort food was off the charts – not only in quantity, but in quality.

And so the weekend ends………………

I just drove back from Owensboro after attending this nicely informal ‘wake’ for my great friend Bobby Miller who passed away last week. The party was held outdoors and indoors, enduring torrential rainfall a couple of times during the affair and even the sounds of tornado warning sirens in the distance more than once. It was sort of a revelation – In this iPod, Blackberry world, we were able to access more specific local weather events immediately and we did hear of a twister which landed not so far away, just to make things more exciting. Man, it is also truly an rather severe April to remember, weather-wise, with more electrical storms than many natives have ever seen – all in a non-stop series of storm  events, tumbling along one after another.

Crossing the Ohio River and dropping down into Owensboro from the Indiana side revealed a cresting river, spilling over it banks into nearby fields, the farmer’s plains, as it were. This area is so flat near a river which – like the Yangtze or The Nile – is quite famous locally for its Spring Time flooding and dropping some rich silt onto these fields which, in 5 months, will be sporting corn or soybeans in a vast green swath of agricultural Plenty.

But for now?  You can’t see much dirt, can you?  ;-)  That, for the record, is those afore-mentioned fields – they are just a bit underwater currently. The river itself is a good 3 miles North of this, in the distance..

But it was gorgeous, too – warm, sultry air, the humidity completely off the charts in 73 degree weather – the Springtime features like the profusion of young lime green leaves maturing in this deciduous forest, dogwoods and other ornamental blossoms bursting out with even some shrubbery nearly ready to join the horticultural party.

As I mentioned, my friend Bobby was quite an amateur landscaper, having done all his landscaping work himself as well as building the home. He used the local flora to augment his planning, making this gorgeous green expanse butt up next to the forest in a seamless, natural way, transitioning the parking area to domestication up a small set of stairs and surrounding his home with absolutely luscious perennials and azaleas.

I’m kicking myself for not getting a picture of the Columbines which were just beginning to act out, but then, there was so much compelling interaction to be had on the human level, I would go hours before remembering I had a camera. Low tech Man!

Here’s a glimmer of the activity above, complete with the dead White Pine in the rear yard to the left which someone asked my analysis of.

“The Pine? Oh, it’s dead.” (I kept it short and sweet  ;-)  )

It was especially deeply rewarding for me in that I had grown up with so many of these folks and then moved so far away for so long. What was so especially rewarding for strictly selfish reasons was the sense of “return” on such a deeply emotional and thoroughly “connected” basis.I was seeing old friends I’d known when I was 12 years old and who surrounded me and influenced me all those long years ago. These people are a part of me, embedded so deeply they can’t be peeled away. They are the statues, the icons in my own native experience and they all make up who I am this very day.

The amazing sense of unconditional love, of friendship and of our human commonality on this day filled me with a religious type of spirit. I turned away with a couple of tears more than once as I saw others breaking down on their own, over a story, a memory or simply just because of the overall sense of the moment itself. This was a very religious event, in the end, our bidding goodbye to our precious friend, father and relative. Bobby Miller sooo got the send off he would be so proud of.

As a person who has a somewhat out-of-control sense of humor, I have to admit to some huge yuks in my past over April Fool’s jokes, both pleasant and unpleasant. Yes, I have been the butt of a few – an unfortunate number of them being “accident humor” at job sites – from the accursed crew members who may have realized – late – what day it was. Thankfully, there was only one “death” and most of the stuff involved good old fashioned crude displays of grotesque work injuries with things like machines sitting on top of fella’s and stuff.

(Ha ha! “Just kidding, man. He’s alive – look!”)

No, I love a good prank as much as the next guy – or gal.

But I am convinced I have had the Mother Of All April Fool’s pranks pulled on me, in real life! Here’s proof:

In March, 1990, my wife, Alice, was showing massive proof that she had been pregnant for 9 months or so. As we waited for our “due date” of March 15, I noticed she was becoming hopeful about relieving all her symptoms of being a pregnant woman. I confess, I, too, was pretty excited about our baby and getting Alice back in normal human shape. We deliciously counted down the days.

And counted.

And passed the 15th up, then the 20th,

then the 25th………….. You get the picture.

Finally, she had contractions! Oh boy oh boy oh boy! We run to the hospital and sit for a bit, she gets analyzed and we get told to go home. “False alarm.” So – we wait another day and repeat the process as her contractions (‘Braxton-Hicks’ it turns out) resumed, only to be turned down yet again. If you see some frustration still ripe and visible here, well, there is a reason for that. (It may be timely to note we did not have the sex figured out as we opted for the surprise). It was borderline gruelling, in spite of what it was we were expecting. You know, the new human and all………..

Well, on April 1st, 1990, we go again, with contractions beginning yet again. There was no way I was going to let the nurse tell us we weren’t having this baby, lol. I was about to become “Pop Nature”, by dammit!

Our very cool young doctor strolls in, looks at Alice and says: “Well, would you like to get the party started?”, smiling, knowing everything that had transpired. He laughed, we winced, hopefully – and, lo’ and behold! – our little daughter became a miracle – a real live born kid.

One never forgets the feeling of welcoming a baby into the world – the sensations, the chills, the worry and the sudden adaptation to being this little human’s protector for life – the sheer depth of this new plunge into the human condition and the mysteries of a future totally unwritten.

I don’t really see how it is possible to love anything more given the meager resources at hand, but I often also think her semi-diabolical little April Fool’s Prank made us care slightly more than even normal. I mean, being “fooled” by a baby is some memorable stuff! And how marvelously intelligent of our kiddo. Here she sits with her best friend, sucking down a milk cocktail and rediscovering feet. This proves how smart and how sneaky she is and was. Look at how innocent she seems!

Ha!

So when people try and tell you they know a “good April Fool’s prank”, go tell them about how you know a guy who had one that lasted 21 years and 9 and a half months!

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. Your Daddy loves you, even if you are such trouble.

You’ve gone from here -

To this and I likey.

The over-sized racer on the inside/right, above, is my good friend and former business partner, Bill Hermant. The camera is not deceiving anyone – yes, he’s is that much bigger! This particular shot, as I recall, comes from a race in Denver, Colorado where he continued a pretty good year in 2007 with a 7th place finish in the World. And just ignore the couple hundred cleats on those tires, too. Bill was an interesting entrant in those races for a number of reasons – one, he was over 50, racing in a sport with a slew of 20 something’s and, two, because he is 6′ 3″ and around 210 pounds, hardly the predictable size either in a sport where the average size and weight is usually around 5′ 9″, 155.

That’s my Reno friend and ex-business partner, Bill Hermant, who is among the 5 Most Interesting people I have ever met in my life. This rough-and-ready guy meets every criterion as a “Man’s Man”, yet to watch him with his lovely grandchildren, you see a heart as big as the sky itself. He has the love of his very devoted wife, LaDonna, of his children, Kim and Bill, Junior, and of his employees. He also scores lots more love when he sponsors or else runs the softball teams I had played on for over a decade.

Most importantly, when the time comes, if necessary, this guy goes to war for you. We’re talking always. Bill is a man of intense loyalties. He has been ‘let down’ by his friends more than once, but in the Dictionary, when you look up the term “Loyalty”, then Bill Hermant’s mug shot should be right there.

Here is a shrunken ‘screengrab’ shot of what Bill actually owns:

(click on the image and it will take you to the website itself for ‘Reno Cycles & Gear’)

Bill began selling motorcycle parts for a living while living in Hayward, California. Bill grew up across the bay, in San Fransisco. Living in South San Fransisco, where the streets can be just a bit “mean”, Bill used to be a regular at Giants games in Candlestick Park. In fact, maybe one of the funniest things he ever told me was that he thought every kid went to hundreds of major league baseball games as a kid.    He was literally shocked when he heard that wasn’t always the case. But his upbringing grounded him and made him a very focused business person later in life – a focus he has always maintained to this very moment in time.

Anyway, he moved to Reno in about ’95 or so, setting up his ‘Reno Cycles & Gear’ brand and store. Here’s where he moved and also why he decided to ask about maybe partnering up in landscaping. He needed help, lol.

(click all images to enlarge)

Bill had developed a huge love for the game of baseball, then “mutatis mutandi”, softball. It was here – adult, slow pitch softball – where we met and subsequently stayed on teams together, playing literally hundreds of games. We honestly appreciated each other for a mutual competitive fire.

Then, incidentally,  when I found myself out of work one Autumn……..we’re talking at the worst possible time for a landscaper to be out of work in Northern Nevada,……. Bill saw my need – (and he showed me his personal residential need, lol) – and we developed a game plan to make a run at business together. Bill sprung for the purchase of a Bobcat – and a killer, heavy duty one at that which we bought through our third baseman, Brent Adams, (another oft-overlooked benefit of actually playing sports) which was in excellent, though very “broken in” condition. We bought a cheap little truck and we were off to the landscaping races. With the Bobcat, we went a little crazy and then accomplished a few wonders around his home.

We made a small creek and waterfall way out back at his home which Donna was so crazy about she kept her window open at night – in Winter – to be able to hear it. It started humbly enough – man it was dusty back there.

It evolved. Bill’s first comments as we were installing the first plantings were something along the lines of: “You mean I paid $350 for those sticks??”    Hell, it turned out Bill was normal! He didn’t know Jack Squat about landscaping!

The “sticks” worked out just fine, OK, just as our softball team did. He smiled later. We went from this………

To this:

And this:

And this………………. and then it was just the other parts of the bizz and sports we spoke of. At home, life was good.

Bill became – or always was – crazy about participating in sports in general. This is a key element here. He didn’t spend his time watching – this is a guy who wants to be in things, deeply. He was never the most gifted athlete, but Bill found ways to make himself valuable is what he did, in softball. He used strength, great reflexes and plain competitive spirit to lead every team he played on to just a little higher plane. We could lose games and he would often get morose, lol, while the rest of us were on our way to grab beer and yuk it up. Naturally, we pulled him hard enough in a bunch of cases to make sure he joined. No one wanted Bill frowning. But also, no one missed his reaction, either. His is the sort of influence you can’t buy.

Racing

Bill loves to race. He has become every bit the motor head but his competitive spirit is far more in tune with racing things. Bill loves speed, mechanical crap and loves to race. He raced often in Auburn, California in car races, on their dirt track. He still does. More importantly, however, what Bill ended up happening onto was the bizarre, crazy and hyper-competitive Ice Racing field, which he jumped into in the mid-90′s and which this 50-something meat eater even still enjoys.

He is quite highly-regarded in Europe, where this sport was actually invented to give the amazingly huge number of motorcycle racing fans something to watch during Winters in the off season. What happened instead was the bloom of yet another wildly popular racing niche which became an organization and category all its own. He once showed me an interview he made with an English magazine, where he spoke about how invigorating it was to race in front of relatively huge crowds of Europeans who, he said “Already know who I am.”  Hell, he had fans, 6,000 miles from home!

The “Downside”

Naturally, among other things aside from international Notoriety, what became of all this was an incredibly long and varied litany of injuries. He is also one of the the hardest-headed humans in history too. Just ask Donna!

Once, he and Donna flew to Washington, DC because the airport in North Carolina had been ‘snowed out’. It was during a real mega storm, dropping 3 feet of snow on the Eastern Seaboard. He had a certain number of hours to make Greensboro in time to race so they rented a car and drove, he and LaDonna. It sounded very thrilling as they did indeed make it on time – but just. By the time he got out of the car, it was almost race time.

On his first lap, someone takes him out and he crashes face first into the hockey boards (all indoor ice racing events are in hockey rinks). He breaks his nose and really hurt his shoulder, as I recall. (I believe the legs were another year     )

Anyway, what he remembers is looking up, dazed, and some woman pointing at him and screaming “Oh my God! Look at his face!!” Knowing Bill, he had blood spattered all over himself. Another ghoulish portrait in Red! 

The world can be cruel. Well, he made all the other races that day, broken stuff and all and then flew home for his patch-up. After all, there was softball within a couple weeks. No one could picture that scenario – LaDonna, his wife was apoplectic about his even thinking about practicing in his various casts (a yearly lament, lol) -  but he proved up to the task! And we probably won our softball championship as per usual. There were quite a few.

I go on about all the personal stuff because he is just easy to talk about. But there’s more to him.

Bill has historically given oodles of time and energy to Reno Special Olympics. He has a depth of concern over infant retardation which might just be his finest quality. And let me include his lovely wife here as well. He can always be counted on to donate time and green energy to this cause, as well as many others.

His social standing in the community of Reno is large and respected. His premises host the yearly Christmas Ride Rally For Tots, an event where bikers gather presents for disadvantaged youth. His shop also hosts a very cool Reno-specific festival called Street Vibrations, which is a motorcycle equivalent of their famous Hot August Nights. With the local Harley Davidson dealership, Bill and his Reno Cycles & Gear provides a place for partying and collecting.

Here, Bill is seen with Arlen Ness, famous motorcycle constructor and developer, at Street Vibrations in Reno:

(Bill’s the big guy –    )

And here is probably what Arlen arrived in Reno riding (The Victory Vision):

Bill sells more Polaris off road vehicles than any dealer west of the Mississippi. His shop is probably the best shop in Reno. He speaks with clients personally and in depth, not just to sell things, but to ascertain and assess their needs. He advocates spending wisely.

Landscaping Partners

Bill and I oversaw a 5 year run of varied successes. In the end, the economy reduced our chances at success to pretty much zero with the advent of the Economic Crisis and I have to admit to my own personal exhaustion causing the end of our run together. He would never have given up, the truth is. I admit this freely.

Our successes were pretty cool, however. We did tons of great work in all sorts of different ways – using the newest machinery and products and constructing the bulk of project we see in this blog. Yes, almost everything in here which is Ren0-based was done during our partnership. He loved visiting projects, knowing the working guys intimately, rubbing elbows with clients and simply developing the business. He had far more business acumen than I could ever dream of possessing. And more patience.

It was also very cool talking in the third inning of a game where our opposition was spitting nails in frustration as we paraded to the plate scoring huge runs, when Bill would ask: “How’s Juan’s back?”

Bil Hermant – extremely good businessman, high achiever, a loyal and fantastic partner and a hell of an interesting man.