I spent the better part of the last month-and-a-half preparing to travel to and survive in the environmentally challenging environs of Black Rock City, a temporary metropolis of about 45,000 in the middle of the Nevada desert. BRC is, of course, home to Burning Man, the famously wild festival of art, music, and free spirits. Oh, and fire.
The journey began just over a year ago. Moments after I decided that I would not be making a last-minute go at the Man in 2006, I determined that I would not miss it this year. The plan was set and over time, little by little, I cobbled together thoughts, plans, lights, tools, ideas, information and even a list of the 100+ must-haves for the 5 days in the desert with no running water, no electricity, 100 degree days and cold cold nights. The last two months were spent actually turning the items on the list into reality.
It was a lot to do and pretty stressful at times. And expensive. Sometimes, despite all my efforts, it seemed like I just wasn’t making progress. I felt scared by the unknown and my perception of just how crazy things might be out on the playa. We briefly considered hiring a sherpa, of sorts, to aide our trip. But slowly, I began to become more comfortable with the prospect of spending a few days amidst a swarm of fellow revellers, ravers, hippies, and other Burners of all sorts.
And so the day came, last Wednesday, when Nicole and I hopped in our rented Dodge Caravan, along with a payload of bikes, tents, food, beer, and other desert survival gear. We headed north and east, away from the Bay, through Sacramento, past Reno and Sparks, into the vast open spaces of the Nevada desert. As we rolled deeper into the desert, we were joined by hundreds of other Burners, their wagons and RVs loaded and they, like us, full of anticipation at what we would soon be part of.
The pavement road finally ended, and we turned onto the playa, a crust of alkaline dust that forms the perfectly flat floor of BRC, and waited in line, in our van, for less than an hour before we handed off our $225 tickets to the show. At the gate, I was approached by a dusty woman with a huge smile who asked “Have you been to Burning Man before?” “No,” i told her. “Stop the car! Put it in Park and get out here!” she commanded. And we exited the vehicle. Moments later I was embraced by a tall, muscular man in a leapard thong who, hugging me, said “Welcome home.”
And thus began Burning Man.
Yay, quiero hear mas!