I left the playa early in the morning. It didn't help. I spent hours and hours sitting on the side of the road that day, in several different places. Dr. Cliff and his lawyer were of invaluable help. But finally, along a desolate stretch of freeway, poor Whip It! was whipped.
More hours were spent sitting, watching Burning Man folks pour past, honking and waving. Some stopped, though -- one car stopped and a couple of guys got out. One said, "What happened? Distributor pin shear off?" I was thrilled! Finally! Someone who might understand what's causing this to happen!
"So, you a Biscayne expert, then?" I asked hopefully. (Note the rare correct usage of the word hopefully.)

The answer was disheartening: "Nah. I read about it on your website!"

Sometimes it sux to have a website.

It wasn't actually a bad day, though. I read, wrote, drew. And drank lots of water.

But finally I managed to flag a tow truck (AAA was swamped with Burning Man strandees).

Getting from the playa to Reno took -- literally -- from dawn to dusk.