I visited Black Rock Desert with my family nearly every summer between 1962 and 1978. We usually camped on the playa in the shelter of the north side of Coyote Spring mound, my parents warning us to stay off the mound and not to trample the fragile vegetation--that sparse, dry grass that hardly seemed alive.

At night, the light from a train along the eastern shore would be visible forever, it seemed. Cars speeding across the playa passed to the west of us, or so we always hoped, although more than one passed unexpectedly to the east, where the surface grew crumbly, more irregular, and marked by scattered low humps. One car came right at us out of the night, veering at the last minute to pass a scant hundred yards or so to the west--frighteningly close, like a near miss between airplanes.

How many cars do you suppose have rammed Coyote Spring mound at full speed in the night? It seems inevitable, although GPS might reduce the risk now.

I came looking here for information about that little mound of dirt and sage, wondering how it stood up to the Burning Man--it seemed impossible. I am very pleased to learn about the Coyote Springs Restoration Project. Good work! But why do some people call it Coyote Springs (plural)? Was there more than one spring?

Black Rock Desert has been a powerful memory all my life. I have many pictures from 30-40 years ago. I'll come back here another time and write a little more, and I'll see if I can post some pictures.