The Murrays do Burning Man 2008

Tuesday 9/2 - we leave for Tahoe and home

2008-09-02T10:30:00.000-07:00

Today we leave Carson City for South Lake Tahoe and a five-day Wally Byam Caravan Club International (WBCCI) rally sponsored by our NorCal chapter. This is a delightful and adventuresome group of Airstream owners and we much enjoy the club and traveling, but it is not the 20’s-something crowd at Burning Man. We have some recompressing to do. (See www.cammurray2008.blogspot.com and www.cammurray.blogspot.com if you would like to see what a major WBCCI caravan is like.)

After a quick stop at Bodines for their fabulous $3 breakfast special and some shopping at Costco and Trader Joes (sorry Reverend Billy), we are on our way, cringing occasionally when we see dust rising from the desert, or catch a whiff of the Playa embedded in the seat cushions.

If anybody asks, we had a good burn.

Carson City - Labor Day 9/1

2008-09-01T08:27:00.000-07:00

The park is not fancy but is nice, and the day is beautiful. It is Labor Day and the neighboring Costco is closed. It is Labor Day and the Bodines Casino across the street is open (of course). The Casino gets our business, which consists of our first hot breakfast of the trip and access to incredibly spacious and clean toilet stalls.

The park has WiFi so I’m at the blog, trying to remember what happened during Burning Man. Many burners have this problem, but mine is chiefly because the only WiFi in BRC was at Central Camp and there was no electricity, and my laptop battery was nearly dead. On the good side lack of use kept the computer free of Playa dust - very important as it is really Marcia's computer.

Carson City - Recompression Sunday

2008-08-31T20:25:00.000-07:00

It is Sunday afternoon and we are at the Comstock RV Resort in Carson City. Our drive was uneventful, the only negative seeing a totally flattened burner travel trailer by the roadside (worse, obviously, for them), and the positive highlight being a stop at a Dayton NV Round Table Pizza where we gorged on the lunchtime special of salad and three kinds of pizza. Do not underestimate the value of a highlight such as this. It tasted great, the restrooms were clean, the place was air conditioned.

After setting up in Carson City I did the park unforgivable (that’s what comes of living with freaks for four days) and hosed-off (lightly) the trailer. Not clean, but much better. I drove the truck to a coin-operated car wash and eight-dollars later it looked much better. That is until I opened a window releasing accumulated now-wet Playa dust, to drool down the sides. (Note: on reviewing this blog in late November, I can report the slightest drizzle still creates Playa-dust ooze down the trailer and truck sides, and I still find spots in doorjams with caked dust.)

We planned on barbecuing for dinner but the grease-coated grill was grossly thickened with tan-brown Playa accretions. I can usually ignore what’s out of sight (and many things in sight) but this was too much and entailed more cleaning.

Meanwhile, Marcia was scrubbing the trailer floor and doing laundry, both jobs tough as Playa dust does not easily release its hold.

We took long showers (“Limit your shower to 5 minutes or less to conserve water”), put on fresh clothes, ate BBQ chicken and asparagus, and climbed into bed at 9:30 for our first good night’s sleep in a long time.

Exodus Sunday - we leave Burning Man 8/31

2008-08-31T14:16:00.000-07:00

Sunday morning – Exodus for us – began with occasional wind gusts, a hint of what could come.

Our gear was covered in thick layers of Playa dust, looking like the aftermath of a Mt St. Helens eruption. The inside of our trailer was bad, but not too bad; John’s tent was a mess.

Little cleaning could be done – it just stirred up more dirt.

We piled everything into any space we could find, waved goodbye to our few remaining neighbors, and headed out to K Street and the exit at 8:56 AM (the time, not the intersection). It took another two hours to reach the paved highway.

In the meantime, we listened to Burning Man Information Radio (BMIR) hoping to hear encouraging traffic reports, and we did – at about our hour-and-a-half point we heard a report that exit times were 1-1.5 hours. Yeah.

But BMIR was good edgy radio. Some George Carlin. Some intelligent DJ-talk about ending the war and the importance of voting. Good alternative music, more interesting than corporate radio, even listenable. We also heard the Reverend Billy rail against consumerism and call for change, change, change. We learned that something must be done about the dictatorship in this country. For the first time since we arrived we heard news from the outside world – that Hurricane Gustav was threatening New Orleans.

The Man burns Saturday night and we left Sunday, as probably do most people. But there are other burns. The Temple is scheduled to burn tonight with the true Exodus on Monday. I learned from BMIR radio that the Reverend Billy is schedule to speak just prior to the temple burn. I’m sorry I will miss him.

Saturday night - the Man burns!

2008-08-30T22:51:00.000-07:00

At last, about 8 PM, after several false starts, BMIR announced the Man would burn in about 45 minutes, if the weather held.

We scrambled from the trailer and found our tent neighbors were not to be consoled, and were leaving. We hurried to the Playa and got within five rows of the wide open circle around the Man. We watched and listened to the crowd, glad to be so close but wondering if the few heads in front might still block our view. A bright light from the other side made it hard to see, but from five years ago we knew the ceremony starts with elaborate fire dancing. Fire bearers were present with no sign of any action.

Suddenly the fire bearers disbursed, never utilized, and the neon tubes outlining the Man came alive. Fireworks erupted and soon small fires were visible at various levels of the platform and at the base of the Man's feet. Then more fireworks and an occasional propane blast, with a final burst large enough to engulf the whole platform and cause us to smile in awe as we basked in the heat. Surprisingly, as the flames dissipated, no new fires started and the burn continued slowly, albeit accented by fireworks. But the fires did slowly reach higher, causing the lights in the man to flicker then dim, and eventually all was in flame. The structure started to bow slightly, with the middle leaning right and the top leaning left; people began to take bets on which way it would fall. Left won, and the tower collapsed and formed a huge bonfire with no recognizable parts. Our line broke and a number of burners raced forward, dancing in the flames and taking souvenirs.

(Well, I don't know how that sounds, but this was a much less impressive structure and burn than five years ago. Perhaps part of a rumored Burning Man attempt to downplay the actual burning.)

Saturday white-out

2008-08-30T19:21:00.000-07:00

Saturday - burn-the-man day - began nicely but slowly, again looking like we would waste the cool morning hours. We decided to check out the BRC airport by bicycle. Our only concern was bogging down in the ground dust but figured we would go as far as we could.

By 10:00 AM we were still not underway. Gusty winds caused us to duck occasionally into the trailer to dodge dust storms. Soon dust devils were melding to the point that for long minutes we could not see the tents of our friends opposite the trailer. Between 10 AM and about 8 PM we left the trailer only when we could, to get some fresh air and to take pictures; compare these shots with how our camp looked in the earlier post “Wednesday - Welcome to Camp Trout”. The dust could best be described by expletives, but more descriptively it is like very fine sand, almost like talc. It doesn't sting or sand-blast things, but blinds and makes breathing very uncomfortable.

We passed the time with eating and card games, and listening to Burning Man Information Radio (BMIR) hoping for an all-clear so the pivotal burn could take place on the Playa. Even with every trailer opening shut tight, we could still smell but thankfully not see the Playa dust.

Freeman had been out exploring but joined us late in the afternoon, remarking on how miserably hot it had become in the trailer. But no matter to him – soon he was out like a light on the gaucho.

The neighbors’ tents began to collapse and we invited them in, but they chose to stick it out. But by darkness they gave up and began to pack to leave. BMIR cautioned against leaving or at least against trying to pass other vehicles while leaving, because there had already been several accidents.

Mr. Pastie goes to Burning Man

2008-08-29T23:34:00.000-07:00

This man is (a) providing free pasties as a service to needy women; (b) scamming a lot of women; or (c) both.

He could usually be found in Center Camp showing passing women his folder of pasties. For responding women (quite a few) he would clean the site and plant the pastie, with seemingly little conversation.

What does he do the rest of the year?—Make his pasties, I suppose. It is a short season.

EL Wire makes you happy

2008-08-29T20:52:00.000-07:00

EL wire looks great and festive and provides some protection from collision while wandering the Playa in darkness.

As we generally are not with-it, the personally modeled EL wire was loaned to us by our camp neighbors.

Friday evening continued in this relaxed state as we enjoyed another fine meal, discussion, and wine accompaniment. Feeling a bit too wired for bed, we took a short walk-around-the-block and turned in. Well, all but Freeman. Not sure when he got in.

Smoke rings or halos, you decide

2008-08-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

Somebody somewhere a long way away was generating these beautiful smoke rings. Freeman's may actually be a halo, or I just can't see his drink.

Ice for sale...

2008-08-29T17:00:00.000-07:00

One of the few things you can buy and the line could be quite long.

The trick is carrying 15 lbs of ice back to your camp. Fortunately Carmen had some Berkeley Bowl cloth shopping bags, and the rest was up to Mr. Bungi.

Gotta go, gotta go ...

2008-08-29T16:40:00.000-07:00

The woman with the cane called over my shoulder "Tom! You forgot your stick!". I turned as a man doubled-back and grabbed his white cane.

Toilets like these were all within easy reach. They were reasonably clean and had Purell dispensers at each end.

The Teter-Totter of Death

2008-08-29T15:29:00.000-07:00

I'll have one of those big things...

2008-08-29T13:11:00.000-07:00

This, I believe, is a gay-hosted camp.

Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll

As anywhere at Burning Man, the bar may dispense alcohol or juices, makes no difference. No charge. Just be kind and friendly in return - help someone with their tent, say hello, fix a bike tire, offer some ice, hand him/her a cookie, etc.

BRC is dotted with cocktail lounges, varying from as small as a two-person bar to really quite large (organized, plenty of seating, dancing, bands, pole dancers). Commercialization is not allowed. The booze flows both freely and freely.

There is plenty of drinking and on occasion a whiff of weed. If a burner acts illegally an observing officer will take action, but careful burners get along fine. Burning Man is not exempt from state and local laws and there are far more officials (BLM, state police, etc.) then in 2003.

In two Burning Man trips I have never seen a fight break out or heard an angry voice. Nor, with one exception, have I encountered an obnoxious drunk. Impressive for a gathering of almost 50,000 people, mostly young, partying heavily. (Okay, this place is big and we are not major partiers, so some bad stuff surely did happen.)

Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll: the sex part

The part you were waiting for.

I don’t think serious sexual harassment would be tolerated here, and the enforcers would likely be friends of the offender or perhaps the roving Black Rock Rangers. Even so, things go on that would not in Roseville, or most any other community. (Okay, so San Francisco may be another exception, under certain conditions.)

People at Burning Man can express themselves as they wish and not feel judged, probably because of the anonymity factor lacking in their home communities. For most this is through imaginative costumes, body decoration, fanciful transportation, and theme camps. For many this is through nudity, near nudity, or erotic attire. It is also through language and the free discussion of things not discussed at home.

Freeman and I noted that Burning Man attracts a number of incredibly good looking women. Many of these go topless but maybe because of the commonness it seems very pleasant but not particularly erotic. Marcia and I concluded there are more naked men than naked women, but far more topless women than naked men. Although tats and piercings are common, they seem more common in the Roseville young crowd. (Yes, I realize this is supposition and a lot of guessing about both groups.)

Nobody acts particularly sexual, even when wearing erotic outfits. But there are hints of S&M, such as camps offering bare-butt paddling by members of the opposite sex.

There are obvious gay couples, and obvious trans-gender people. I’m still taken aback by the sight of males (judged by body build and beard growth) with nice looking naked boobs.

This Burning Man seems less blatantly sexual than the one my brother and I attended five years ago, but maybe we are less adventuresome this time accompanied by our wives. Or so Marcia suspects.

WiFi

2008-08-29T13:03:00.000-07:00

WiFi worked and it didn't work, just like home.

I never made use of WiFi because my battery was too low and I had no way to charge it. Marcia thinks this was a good thing because it is really her computer and she doesn't like the idea of exposing it to Playa dust.

More mutant vehicles

2008-08-29T11:25:00.000-07:00

A great way to hitch a ride or join a party.

Mutants on the run

2008-08-29T11:12:00.000-07:00

These vehicles must all be registered with the Department of Mutant Vehicles in BRC.

Burners on the Run...

2008-08-29T10:54:00.000-07:00

"Son, someday this penis sheath will be yours."

"Channel what?"

The Shadow knows...

2008-08-29T06:40:00.000-07:00

The BLM is quite strict about visitors leaving the Playa as they found it.

Everybody tries, but occasionally you will see a shadow forgotten or abandoned.

A few are undoubtedly shadows of emigrants or prospectors from days when nobody fully understood the potential harm shadows can have on the environment.

This one is a little puzzling as the small cranial cavity suggests less intelligence than modern man, yet the fat ass and scrawny upper body is quite typical of many modern Silicon Valley types.

Thursday evening - Stairway to Heaven

2008-08-28T23:00:00.000-07:00

Our mutant bus continued its slow move across Deep Play and eventually we came upon a tall metal stairwell (titled "Babylon" for some reason) in the middle of nowhere. It is 10 or 11 stories high and is sponsored by a man to commemorate his father, and that is about all I know about that. An LA Times article put its cost at $600,000 and other reports claim over $2 million. It is made of recycled steel, and since most connections are bolted, most of the steel can be reapplied.

This stairwell with viewing platforms simply sits on the Playa – there are no pilings, and no walls. Beams extend horizontally from the ground level corners to increase the footprint. Some floors open to a viewing platform. The viewing areas and the stairs have handrails and are open but feel quite secure. A camera at ground level captures images of passing burners and projects them to a drape covering one side of the structure.

Beautiful? Not really, if found at a construction site downtown. Out here it is impressive, even beautiful, and it will be gone in a week, without a trace.

We joined the horde and dragged our tired bodies up the stairs to the top, confident our mutant ship wouldn’t leave us as the Captain also climbed to the top. The view was extensive but not too exciting at night; fortunately John and Carmen got to it by day, for more pictures.

Continuing in Deep Playa our bus lights caught a structure called The End, so we knew we were at, well, the end. Our ship slowly turned back toward the Esplanade, stopping only in response to stray burners afraid they would miss their last chance at a ride. We were dropped at 9:00 (the street, not the time) and walked home, collapsing exhausted to bed about 2 AM.

Thursday evening - We go Deep Playa

2008-08-28T22:51:00.000-07:00

We quickly viewed the temple and climbed back on board our mutant transportation. Although to-hell-and-gone out on the Playa, our conductor announced we would now attempt passage to Deep Playa to examine other objects and just generally see what people were up to.

We made a complete circle of the temple until we reached maybe 3 MPH then launched on a trajectory to Deep Playa, and it was cold. The headlights caught the occasional burner walking or bicycling in the blackness, including a beautiful white jelly fish. We stopped to pick up the jelly fish and found a really tall woman resplendent in a white chiffon head piece as big as any in Beach Blanket Babylon.

We passed time talking to a guy wearing a ballet dress. He introduced himself (he was from Boston and was obviously having a great time) and we introduced ourselves. In his enthusiasm he ignored the good looking stylishly dressed non-smiling women next to him and out of politeness I said something to her; in an uncomfortable voice she said she was with him. This relationship is not going to last.

Thursday evening - The Temple

2008-08-28T21:39:00.000-07:00

At 3-5 MPH we crawled slowly across the Playa in our mutant bus, admiring particularly the moonless night and sky of stars, split by the massive Milky Way. The first major project we approached was the Temple, one of the traditional yearly art projects on which burners can write messages, generally spiritual or philosophical. On Sunday Reverend Billy will preach from the temple, probably raging against our corporate dominated consumerist society, then the temple will be burned to the ground.

The temple is gorgeous, as always. Many types and shapes of woods are involved, including curving barrel staves near the entrances. There is a central stairway to the top, messages everywhere with permanent marker – but we were hesitant to climb fearing our mutant ship might leave us stranded in the dark Playa facing a very long walk home.

Carmen very much wanted to see these structures in daylight and ventured out Friday morning on foot with John. The air is very dry on the Playa, and she began to realize she was experiencing a bloody nose. Some volunteers on a BRC Department of Public Works vehicle saw her situation and provided assistance, then offered John and Carmen a tour of the art projects in their DPW vehicle. So a good thing came of a bad thing, and we have Carmen to thank for these additional daylight photos.

Thursday evening - We ride a mutant

2008-08-28T19:39:00.000-07:00

The mutant vehicle singled out by Carmen was one of several that ferry burners on no particular schedule and with no published destination.

Our mutant vehicle was built on an old school bus with the insides gutted and replaced with a couple short bench seats and a fake fireplace, all this taking somewhat more than half the length. The front portion was for the Captain and the music DJ, although perhaps the Captain and DJ were one and the same, I couldn’t really see. The side windows were painted black but it wouldn’t have made much difference because the outside of the bus was draped with sheet-like material to bulk-out the shape. Entrance was via a step stool at the emergency exit.

On the top of the bus was a platform and railing, seemingly held on by 2x4s attached to the bus sides. Entrance was via a short step ladder to a flight of metal mesh steps outboard from the side, and only one person was permitted on the steps at a time, for good reasons. After an incredible number of people disembarked we climbed aboard, choosing the topside.

The view topside was very good, particularly if you stood, but it was very cold. This was a moonless night and as we roamed the Playa we were guided only by the lights of distant art structures. Taking pictures at night is difficult. The camera can't be held still enough for a good non-flash shot. If you try flash you find objects are either too far away, or the auto-focus thinks you want a really good picture of airborne Playa dust.

Topside we were hosted by a woman and a man, the latter wearing a heavy coat looking like something out of Star Trek. It turns out he and two others built the art car and it is supposed to represent a plane or perhaps a ship, but they ran out of time. He said it would have been better if they had gotten the propeller done. And things are not as slipshod as they appeared – they contacted the bus manufacturer and gathered information on the bus structure that allowed them to build the top deck without compromising safety. At least they think so. At his point I noticed the deck was held on not by wooden 2x4s, but by steel rails.

Thursday evening - a walk on the wild side

2008-08-28T19:21:00.000-07:00

The distant glow that appears to be oilwell fires in Saddam's Iraq are actually blasts from propane flamethrowers. Burners love propane blasts. The blasts are loud, they appear in unexpectated locations, if you are within a 100 yards you can feel the heat, and they impress.

We had a fine dinner in camp and then set out on foot forsaking the bicycles. This gave our butts a rest and eliminated our exposure to bicycle-to-bicycle collisions in the dark. This still left us with bicycle-to-Murray risk and mutant-to-Murray possibilities, so we wore clip-on LED lights to make us more easily seen. Even so, we were near invisible compared with the bikes and people adorned with fluorescent-bright strands of el/wire, powered by little battery packs – a beautiful sight.

It is a 9-block walk to the Esplanade from our camp on J Street between 7:30 and 8:00. We walked the Esplanade to the end at 10:00 absorbing what we could of the excitement without actually, you know, becoming participants. Murrays are reluctant participants, a family trait going back generations. In the neighborhood of 10:00 were several very large geodesic domes with beckoning sensuous entrances, but we did not go in—put off by the crowds, tremendously loud music and earth-shaking bass. But we admired the beautiful structures - did I mention the nearby tepee village?

At this point we could see the lights at the distant end the Esplanade, the Man structure in the clock-center, mutant cars roaming the Playa, and distant Playa art projects. I didn’t really think Carmen would like Burning Man, but I was wrong. She suddenly went hyper, determined to find a way out to the lights. As we stood by rather passively she approached a roving mutant bus and soon we had permission to hop aboard.

Let's see, what shall we do now ...

2008-08-28T15:27:00.000-07:00

Reading this blog should give a pretty good idea of what it is like attending Burning Man as an observer, but not as a 100% participant. We people raised in the 50s come with too much baggage for that.

This is not just a party, there are meetings to attend. Burning Man published a 77 page “what where when” booklet for participants, a sample page shown here.

Depending on your browser, operating system, or luck, you may be able to click on it for a larger image.

In the time we had we mostly just cruised the Playa and Center Camp.

Center Camp

2008-08-28T14:50:00.000-07:00

Center Camp is circular and disorienting. Great for that cup of coffee, for Yoga, to chant, to people watch, to be watched, play with your child (even a green child), to seek refuge from the dust, to watch a comedy act, hear music, view sculptures, get painted, meet somebody, find your misplaced bicycle.

Thursday 8/28 - our first full day

2008-08-28T13:55:00.000-07:00

Thursday started slowly and with good weather, but two problems: Costco tents turn out to be tricky to assemble if you leave the instructions at home, and Freeman found the bike tires were going flat and patches weren't helping. The tent never did get up as Costco intended, and later Freeman discovered that transporting bikes on the rear of the Volvo cooked the tires nearest the exhaust. A camp neighbor loaned him two wheels and that problem was solved.

We continued to set up camp but squandered the cool hours of the morning. When we eventually ventured out it was quite warm - instead of the intended trip to Center Camp for morning coffee, some of us chose iced lattes and lemonades.

Black Rock City - the layout

2008-08-27T18:20:00.000-07:00

The community created on the Playa is called Black Rock City. There really is no such physical place – it is just nomenclature for the community, so the volunteer rangers (mostly dispute mediators and perimeter patrollers) are naturally called BRC Rangers.

BRC is large but is a small part of the Black Rock dry lake, which is the second largest nearly flat surface in the northern hemisphere, dropping roughly 5’ per 25 miles toward a sink. The BLM-permitted area is the pentagon shape on the photo (darkened for emphasis). It is bound by an orange trash-catching fence and is patrolled to keep out people without tickets. BRC even has an airport and control tower, all temporary. There are an unbelievable number of chemical toilets and the streets are occasionally dampened by water trucks to hold down dust. Burners are expected to leave no trace and most comply; volunteers clean up what remains after the others have gone. RVrs must haul out their gray and black water.

The temporary village of Black Rock City lies in the circle in the pentagon.

Picture a clock face. At the center of the clock is “the man” – the forty foot tall construction that is ceremonially burned Saturday evening. (Burning Man ran from August 25th to September 1, 2008. We arrived on August 27th and left September 1 in the morning.)

The first street is an arc called the Esplanade. It is 2700 feet from the Man and runs from 10:00 to 2:00 (the long way). The larger and generally more spectacular theme camps and villages occupy the Esplanade.

Radiating out from the Esplanade are streets at every half-hour point. These streets are named 10:00, 9:30, 9:00, and so on through 2:00. There are 11 cross streets behind the Esplanade, called successively A Street through K Street. Burners occupy these areas in independent camps or as part of small villages and theme camps. Although I couldn’t find their presence in 2008, in recent years there has been an area called Burnstream Ct where Airstream campers tended to gather. This year we camped with other independents on J (or Jeep) Street, between 7:30 and 8:00.

At the center of the Esplanade is Center Camp, a large tent-covered gathering place for anyone wanting to gather. It is where you can purchase coffee, tea, and cold drinks, but not water, which you are expected to have. The only other area where cash can be exchanged is at Arctica, which sells ice at reasonable prices for being in the middle of a desert..

The open area featuring the Man also contains other often huge and small art projects, kinetic and otherwise, electronic or not, scattered seemingly randomly. This area is vast so bicycles are used to explore, or rides are hitched on passing mutant vehicles or art cars. (Once camped, you cannot use your private vehicle for transportation unless it is registered with the Department of Mutant Vehicles as having something to say, or perhaps having nothing to say but doing it creatively.)

Wednesday evening 8/27 - we settle in

2008-08-27T18:05:00.000-07:00

Our camp is on the next-to-the-last block. The sunset view is toward the last block and beyond. Marcia puts up the awning.

The sounds never stop, but we have a relatively quiet spot. Loud electronic music is always playing somewhere, sometimes just a repetitive th-u-u-u-mp, th-u-u-u-mp, th-u-u-u-mp. People in all stages of dress and undress walk by, or ride on bikes, or drive two-, three-, or four-wheeled mutant vehicles. (Actually some had many more than four wheels. Mutant vehicles are a way for people to express themselves, and all must be licensed by the Department of Mutant Vehicles and are limited to 5 MPH. Mutants rove everywhere but the big ones are limited to the Playa and major streets). Everyone is happy and friendly, but not in any Pollyanna or stoner sense – just nice people, it seems, having a good time.

We got to our camping spot about 5:30 PM but it took until after 8 PM for people to stop fiddling with their camp gear and sit down for dinner. None of us, unless you count Freeman in his daily India attire, had a costume or anything particularly interesting to help us fit in – the best we managed was to wear little flashing green lights or red bike lights, just to managed some difference and provide warning of our presence to the thousands of roving bicycles and mutant vehicles. The five of us then walked the nine blocks to the Esplanade and enjoyed the wild sights-and-sounds until almost midnight, when we returned to our camp for sleep. I woke many times during the night and could hear the partying until at least four in the morning.

Wednesday 8/27 - Welcome to Camp Trout

2008-08-27T17:07:00.000-07:00

Okay, now you see the trout.

We were now all burners, and after some exploratory driving we settled on J Street between 7:30 and 8:00 to make camp. With Freeman’s guidance (he has come at least 8 or 9 times) we oriented the Airstream east-west with the door opening on the north side, and put the truck at right angles with the Volvo on the other right angle. Our “U”-shape was partially closed on the final side by another tent encampment, housing a woman from Reno and another woman from Massachusetts. Our quad arrangement turned out to be very fortuitous as the trailer blocked the predominant wind from the north and allowed us to extend the awning for shade. Also, the east-west orientation helped moderate the high temperatures inside the trailer.

Compare these pictures with how our camp looked in the “White-out Saturday” post.

Wednesday 8/27 arrival - we bring virgins

2008-08-27T15:34:00.000-07:00

We caravanned to BM from Roseville, my brother in his Volvo station wagon, three bikes mounted on the rear, camping gear crowding the cargo area as well as the back seat, my nephew Freeman mixed in somehow with the camping gear, and my sister-in-law Carmen sharing the front with John. Marcia and I led most of the way as our truck and 25’ Airstream travel slowly. We are also burdened with more weight than usual because of extra stuff, e.g. unbelievable amounts of water. I’m worried about the trailer tires. We’ve had two flats in the last couple weeks.

Traveling east on I-80, we encounter many bike-laden vehicles which we suspect are also heading for Burning Man. Burning Man actually began last Sunday; Marcia and I were in Victoria British Columbia then, coming off a WBCCI national Airstream caravan (see www.cammurray2008.blogspot.com). On our drive south from Seattle we encountered Burning Man-bound travelers as far north as Oregon. How did we know? Oh, there is a look. If that fails, burners often sport a large hand-made Burning Man logo on their vehicles.

Although we are arriving mid-week, during the final 50-miles of open desert travel 90% of the vehicles seem headed for Burning Man. There aren’t many other reasons to be out here.

The excitement grows as we pass Pyramid Lake, looking incredibly blue and beautiful in this otherwise dust-brown scrub landscape. As we cross Indian land we find locals selling Indian Tacos, but there are few takers – everyone just wants to get to Burning Man. The small towns of Empire and Gerlach are filled with burners buying last minute supplies, including beat-up bicycles left from previous burns, called burner bikes.

Finally we see small temporary directional sign and turn down the dirt path to Burning Man. There is no danger of missing it – the couple-mile path is full of slowing moving vehicles stirring up a long thin cloud of Playa dust.

We are greeted very cheerfully at our first border crossing by hard-core burner volunteers, but they must search our vehicles to be sure no one is sneaking in - tickets cost up to $295 per person, and they can’t be bought at the gate. Our trailer is searched by a smiling shirtless vest-wearing bearded twenty-something but he seems to be taking a long time. Marcia checks and finds he has accidentally locked himself inside. She rescues him and he seems a bit embarrassed, but ever-cheerful.

After this check the road widens into maybe ten lanes and a woman waves us toward an open spot attended by two very cheerful twenty-somethings looking good in shorts and tops, and a layer of dust. They check our tickets and ask if we are virgins, and I point to Marcia. (In the parlance of Burning Man, a virgin is someone on their first visit. I came five years ago with my brother, so I'm not a virgin.) Marcia agrees to leave the car and although I can’t hear anything she is given the choice of getting at-one with the earth by rolling on the Playa or scooping and patting herself with it. Seeing no way out, she goes for the latter and certainly looks a lot cleaner afterward than Carmen, our other virgin, who elected to roll in the dust. No matter. Marcia and the gate keepers exchange hugs, a gong is rung, we proceed past a bunch of Burma-Shave-type signs, and in a few hours we are all equally coated in Playa dust.