blog.Adonis.net

You should not see the desert simply as some faraway place of little rain. There are many forms of thirst.

- William Langewiesche

I felt really detached this morning, like my body was back in the real world, but my brain was still in a drug-induced haze somewhere out on the playa. There was a sense of unreality about everything, like I was an observer and everything else was shifted just a bit to one side of reality. Strangely, it was a feeling I rather enjoyed.

I wish I had a lot of pictures of my Burning Man exploits to post here, but I don’t. My phone’s battery died shortly after arriving, with the Jeep’s following shortly thereafter. Fortunately, I have friends with cameras, and I’m hoping to appropriate some of their work, which will surely be better than anything I could have done myself.

It may be a good thing that there’s not much photographic evidence. Despite plenty of assurances otherwise, I’m not really convinced I looked good in a makeshift miniskirt so short that my balls fell out of it every time I bent over or sat down.

It was really good to be back. The place is just as strange and overwhelming and freeing as it was 10 years ago, just much, much bigger. It still also feels very much like home to me, even after enough years that I’m old enough to single-handedly skew the median age by a year or two.

I’m sunburned and exhausted, my feet hurt, and the Jeep will probably never be clean again, but I’m also feeling mentally and emotionally recharged, and I’m very thankful for the great people I met out there in the Nevada desert, and for everything those people shared with me over the last week. I suspect it’ll take some time to really feel like a part of the default world again, but that’s OK with me. I think I’d like to keep carrying this little bit of unreality around with me as long as I can.

I may or may not be in this picture from Wired Magazine… I’m not sure if the guy near the back that looks like me is me or not, but it could be.

Had a great time at Burning Man; it’s as amazing as ever. I’m exhausted after the drive home, though, and I’d rather sleep (in a real bed… Yes!) than tell you about it. I will, however, mention that I have just had the best shower of my life.  It’s good to be home.

The first time I went to Burning Man, I had neglected to get a haircut before I went. My hair’s pretty thick (though a lot grayer than it was that trip), and in the desert heat I was sweating constantly. When I stumbled on a painted naked woman who was shaving heads, I couldn’t resist. Thus occurred the baldness incident of 1997.

I got it buzzed today to help me resist the temptation of doing it again. And to cut down on the sweat — but mostly just so I’m not bald when I come back.

The Jeep’s packed up, and I’m ready to go. This will probably be my last update here until after I’m playa-bound.

Excuse me while I get all bouncy and shit.

The good news is that the Jeep runs. The bad news is that it’s going to take all week to get off the tree sap all over my arms from taking the cover off it.

I’ve got my checklist about as complete as I want it, though I’ll be making a stop or two on the way out for the few items I haven’t checked off yet, and for anything else that looks like it might be good to have for a week in the middle of the Nevada desert (more beer, for example).

I should be hitting the road sometime between now and about 6:00pm… That little map over in the sidebar is going to be so confused. It’s never seen me go farther than San Mateo.

Canned food doesn’t expire, right?

I’ve been rummaging through ten years of accumulated food, thinking this Burning Man trip may be the perfect opportunity to finally get rid of a lot of it. So far, I’ve found quite a bit of canned soup, a lot of mandarin oranges, and some corn that look like good candidates for playa meals. The only concern I have is that almost none of it has an expiration date later than today, and in some cases the year is a little frightening.

But, hey, you never know until you crack the can open, I suppose.

So, barring any major food-borne illnesses, I think I’ve got that part handled. Now I’m just crossing my fingers that the old Jeep starts up.

Now that I’ve managed to locate some vegan cheese, I feel like I’m partway there.

It’s also Friday night, work’s done for the week, and all I’ve got to to before I go is make sure I’ve got everything I need for the trip to the playa. That list includes, but is not limited to:

• ✓1 sleeping bag
• ✓1 tent
• ✓1 camp stove
• ✓1 ice chest
• ✓3 bottles liquid propane
• ✓1 propane lantern
• ✓1 flashlight
• ✓1 block vegan cheese
• ✓7 days’ worth of food
• 2 large bottles of Tabasco sauce
• 20 hot dogs
• 15 gallons of water
• ✓1 butane torch lighter
• ✓1 can butane lighter fuel
• 1 pair work gloves
• 1 cheap pair of pliers
• ✓1 turkey baster
• ✓1 sharp pair of small scissors
• 1 sponge-type dish brush
• ✓Lots of booze

Preparations have begun for my trip to Burning Man. I’ve found the old stash of camping equipment, I’ve dusted off the Jeep that I took for my first trip in 1997, and I’ve got back in touch with the Lamplighters, who I camped with in ‘97 and ‘98, and it looks like I’ll be with them again a decade after my last burn.

The Lamplighters’ job, every evening near sunset, is to trek out of center camp with the hundreds of kerosene lanterns that light the streets of Burning Man for the rest of the night, hanging them from tall wooden poles spaced at regular intervals along the roads of Burning Man. It’s difficult work, and particularly hard on the back. It’s amazing how heavy a pole with ten lanterns full of oil can feel after you’ve been lugging it across a dusty playa for a half-mile or so.

I’ve volunteered to bring a few items with me to contribute to the Lamplighter camp. The list includes items like booze to stock the bar, hot dogs for a barbecue Wednesday night, and a block of vegan cheese. That last item may be a challenge. I’ll admit to being a voracious carnivore, and I’m not even sure what makes cheese vegan. I can only assume that means it’s milk-free and tastes absolutely nothing like real cheese. I also have no idea where to get it, or what constitutes a “block.” Somehow, though, I’ll find it. I can promise you, though, that I won’t eat it.

I’ve been promising myself I’d do it every year since 1998, but something always got in the way. Every year I’ve regretted missing the opportunity.

Today I bought my ticket to Burning Man, and I’m looking forward to it so much it’s almost irrational. The last couple times I went (in 1997 and 1998) really were life-changing experiences. There’s something about watching a small self-contained city rise out of nothing in the emptiness of the desert, then burn itself to ash and disappear at the end of the week, that’s awe-inspiring, humbling, and freeing.

I’m sure things are very different than when I was there 10 years ago; maybe they’re very different. I may feel the same sense of wonder about it all that I did 10 years ago, and I might not, but in either case I have no doubt that it’ll be the most interesting week I’ll spend anywhere all year.