"...what might be fact, than to label as fact what is truly fiction." - Ken Kesey (paraphrased from memory)

"WooohWeee" was something that "Gas Guy" kept hollering whenever my "kite buggy" was about to flip over. You see, there was this red wagon with oversize wheels somebody had brought to haul stuff around on the playa. And I had tucked a small cargo parachute in my calico bag before heading off from my truck when it ran out of gas. I was figuring I could use it as a tent or shade structure if needed later.

Well, after a night of gin-n-tonics, drag-dressing, trying to sleep in "the dent" but not getting any, I wandered by the cart, was tired, sat down on it, opened my calico bag looking for a smoke, pulled the parachute out. About that time in the morning, the wind starts picking up. Dust gets nasty. I start to spread out the parachute to act as a screen. The strings tangle on the wagon's handle...and the parachute becomes a sail! And I tie it sturdily to the wagon and it starts pulling me across the desert at about 35 MPH! WoooWhEEEE! No real way to steer it, but I'm out past the camping area in seconds and WoooWhEEEE! No real way to stop it except steer it to the side and WoooWhEEEE!

"Where'd Gas Guy go?" asked @.
(ah, you see @ "Amper Sand" was the California monk who noticed my 'budai' on the Playa. He decided to watch out for me. Brothers' Oath.)
"He just headed out on your wagon," replied Ronco. "But I think he's coming back. He didn't come get the gas yet."

"WoooWHeeeEEE!!!" came screeching across the desert.

"Is that him?" asked @.

"Who?" replied Ronco.

"GAS GUY!?" retorted a frustrated @, more turbulent than his usual.

"Oh, yeah. The guy with the sailing thingy on your cart. That's Gas-guy over there," as Ronco, tripping and rolling, pointed my way.

"WoooWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" as I make a turn once more. The desert's morning winds are not steady. They're thermal activity as the sun climbs over the surrounding mountains. The sand heats up on their eastern slopes first. The air starts rising, drawing the ground surface air to join its rising. Eastward across the cool sandy surface goes the breezes. Then the sun rises above the mountain tops, and starts to warm the entire white flat face of the desert. From 50 degrees to 70 degrees in twenty minutes...about a degree a minute! So then the winds along the ground turn back westward, drawn towards the rising columns of air on the east-facing slopes of the next range of mountains to face the sunrise on this revolving Earth.

"WoooOOOOWHEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" as I'm getting closer to the campers.

"He better slow the fuck down," mumbled Ronco.

"I hope he doesn't break my cart," worried @.

"WOOOOAh!! WOOOOOOOWHEEEEEEE!!!" as a dust-devil caught my sail and pulled me back away from the campers, but not so far away as last time.

"WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" as I stuck my feet out, and tried to brake and turn, frantic a little as i tried to untie the parachute lines from the handle. "WoooweeeE!!!" I hooted when the wind died down again, giving me a chance to free the lines. But now there was a long walk back to the campers. I spread the parachute out on the ground behind the cart to try rolling it up so I could put it back in my 'budai' but...

"WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" came one more dust devil. This one pulled me, holding the lines in my hand, backwards across the playa, the wagon's handle and turning wheels behind me.

"WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" as I discovered this configuration gave me a little better steering control, because the front wheels dug into the cracked, dry sandy soil, slowing my careening return to the camping area.

"WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" as I came to a skidding, overturning halt about where I found the wagon in the first place.

"WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" as I up-righted the wagon, and wiped off the dirt before the guys that were running my way got to me.

"WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!! That was AWESOME! You should try it," I said to @ and Ronco.

"Whoa. We really scratched up my wagon there, huh?" grumbled @.

"Yeah, give me that thing," said Ronco, as he grabbed the parasail lines from my hands and straddled the wagon. The breeze was growing steadily now, prevailing from the Southwest, as Coriolis gave Ronco one long, fast straight tug up the playa. "WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" he hollered full of joy. CLANK-thud, "WoooOOWHeeeEEEEEEE!!!" as he turned too sharply and dug a front wheel into the softened soil enough to flip the cart, now with one wheel bent off its intended angle.

"Give me that!" screamed @ as he took the handle from Ronco.

"Here you go," offered Ronco as he passed the reins to @.

"Well, it won't work NOW," moaned @. "But I'll hang onto this until I can fix my wheels."

"Um, yuh. OK," I consigned, hoping the gift of the cargo 'chute would belay the cost of repairing the wagon wheel.

"Hey, we gotta go get you your gas, Gas Guy," Ronco cheerfully changed the subject before @ could add more disgruntlement to the situation.

"Yeah, where's that at?" I asked, and followed a quick-striding Ronco away from the scene of the accident.

Later as we drove up the mountain roads to find my truck and refill it with five gallons of gas, we could see down and out across the vast playa. I asked Ronco if @ was terribly upset about the damage to his cart.

"Yeah, he can get a little moody at times," answered Ronco. "But he won't mind at all when I bring him up here and show him the wonderful drawing you made of him!"

I looked down and noticed, carved into the playa surface by the wheels of the cart, a giant circular form leading out from the camping area, and back towards it. It was about a thousand yards across, with a slightly smaller circular form carved inside of it.

"@"