Tuesday 9/2 - we leave for Tahoe and home

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

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

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

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!

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

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

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.