“The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue center light pop and everybody goes "Awww!” Jack Kerouac
The territory 100 miles north of Reno is a vast expanse of barren desert. There are no cars, homes, animals or plant life. The dust storms that plague the dessert reach to speeds of 50 mph and last for hours, blanketing the entire landscape in white talcum hard packed dust. The temperatures are fierce, ranging from 130 degrees to 40 degrees in the manner of hours… The heat is oppressive, electrical storms are common, and sporadic pounding rain storms can turn the hard packed flats to a muddy thick paste.
And yet, one week out of every year, over 40,000 people from every social class, continent, religious affiliation, sexual orientation and political party drive, fly or hitchhike to the Black Rock Desert to create a city painted with massive art structures, enormous thumping dance clubs, mutant vehicles, thousands of decorated bicycles, camp grounds. Dedicated to self-expression, self-reliance, and art as the center of community. They leave one week later, having left no trace.
We drove through the night in a packed up Lincoln navigator filled with anticipation about what lied ahead. The $225.00 tickets we had purchased covered our entrance fee for the event. Other than that, as burners we are responsible for our own survival. We packed enough food, water, and supplies for the trip. There is no cocacola tent selling soft drinks. No MTV reality show, no flyers, no commercialism of any kind. We had spent weeks shopping for the perfect costumes; colorful, exciting, and playful.
After what seemed to be a never ending lonely drive through the desert, colorful RV’s, ornate art cars, weekend warrior motor homes, and beat up junkers, the path to Black Rock City began to come to life. We noticed cars driving down the road with furry colorful bikes attached to the back. Hippies both young and old, fancy weekend warrior motor homes, beat up junkers all heading in the same direction to makeshift road leading to the playa, the 400 square mile expanse known as the Black Rock Desert. As we moved up in the line to the entrance of the playa, we were hit with out first dust storm; after 20 minutes we mixed up our first batch of vodka red bulls and toasted to the storm. Sporadically, out of the pounding cloud of white dust a colorfully costumed burner with face mask would be casually strolling through the storm as if it never existed.
“Are you virgins?” the women with a green wig on and no shirt inquired as she strolled up to the car
“Yes, we are” Ali “fluttering fairy’ and I pronounced.
“Then you have to ring the bell”
Ali and I put on our masks and headed into the storm to ring the massive bell, signaling the playa that two newbies had arrived. Once past the entrance we drove through the park, streets lined with names and structure in this mad mad world. Circular urban plan with structured streets. 3.5 square miles. Complete with its own law enforcement, fire dept., dmv, dpw. No cell phones no internet
Burning man is about participation, community, and effort. No one at burning man is a spectator, since every burner is a vital part of the events success. Effort is everywhere you look
As we drove through the streets arranged in a half circle, the street names correspond to the years theme. What may have seemed like finding a needle in the haystack was actually pretty easy to navigate through. We found our camp and set up our tent, storm free.
As I rode my sparkling pink bicycle decorated in Christmas tree lights and big fluffy flowers, through the playa, I was mesmerized by the never ending sea of art. I slowly moved from through the sea of art installations just trying to figure out what it is I was looking at. Reveling in the unique opportunity to discover something so beautiful that doesn’t have a name, definition, or explanation on Wikipedia.
The dessert had become a museum filled with innovative art pieces of undefined beauty that begged everyone to touch them, explore them, climb through them.
Looking around burning man is an awe inspiring experience. The effort people put into creating the amazing art installations, mutant vehicles, decorated bicycles, and costumes is inspiring.
Bikes are not merely a convenience; they are part of the culture. The city was designed for pedestrians and bikes to move freely though the desert.
"Theme camps are the interactive core of Burning Man." Theme camps create an ambience, a visual presence, in some way provide a communal space or provide activity.
Submarines, gigantic ducks, swimmers, fire-breathing thistles, serpents, chandeliers, grand father clocks and balsa wood temples have emerged from the playa.
Conversations
Every where I turned I was engaged in conversations with people who Id never have come across in my day to day life. And because there are not that many distractions -- there are some big spectacles, but once you've picked your jaw off the floor you realize that everything out there is there because some of these people around you have made it and brought it, and they didn't do that to sell it to you.
One of my most memorable conversationg came one night while riding through the desert. I came upon a phone booth in the middle of the desert. I dismounted my bicycle and entered the booth. Picked up the phone
“Hello”
‘Hello’ I heard on the other line.
I looked around to see if I could spot the voice at the other end. But there was nothing in sight.
‘Who is this’ I inquired
‘This is God’
We continued a conversation for about 15 minutes before saying good byes and hanging up. I asked questions, he asked questions, and we had a lovely conversation.
The beauty of burning man isn’t just the art, it’s the intimacy that each person bring to the dessert. The intimacy created by 40,000 strangers in the desert
Dancing
We danced and danced and danced. We danced in the morning when we woke up as we made our way to the porta potties. We danced through the desert, through the night and into every morning. My body never felt so free and uninhibited.
The end
All the soundbytes used to sell a salivating story are true..
Yes, there are drugs; all sorts of mind enhancing substances.. marijuana, ecstasy, cocaine, acid, and a plethora of designer drugs, being consumed at all hours of the day.
Yes, there is nudity. Men and women miraculously peddling their bicycles through the desert in the buff, walking down the playa with nothing but a parasol to shield their naked bodies from the sun, dancing at all hours of the day freely allowing their genitalia to frolic to the music.
Yes, there is sex. Men and women having sex. Women and Women having sex. Men and Men having sex. There are even camps where everyone is having sex with everyone.
Yes, there is dust. You will get dirty. Even if you are lucky enough to sleep in an air-conditioned air stream with all the amenities, the dust storms and drastic heat waves will guarantee a sweaty filthy mess that will stay with you for days after you’ve left the desert. (describe more of the white outs)
But if your mind can open up wide enough to see past all the provocations, Burning Man is all of the rumors, stereotypes and labels people have associated with it. It’s every bit of crazy you could conjure up. What ever you are looking for, you will find it. But that is not the event. It doesn’t even scratch the surface of what it is, in fact, I’d be hard pressed to find a burner who would use sex, drugs, or nudity to describe the experience.
It is as if all the acceptance of every taboo that society obsesses over allows people to just get over it and get on with appreciating and experiencing the beauty of humanity.
Burning man accepts all of those things, because burning man accepts every bit of self exploration and expression. The event is above taboo, it embraces individually, in a collective conscious of happiness.
I left burning man with a renewed feeling of optimism, that people are inherently good, inquisitive, unique, beautiful individuals, that given the freedom to make the right decision for the collective community, they do.
Social expression without judgment
On Saturday night, we burned the Man. As the procession started, the entire dessert gathered round, in all its colorful glory. Music playing, lights glowin, and people dancing in anticipation of the burn. As the man ignited, some people cheered, others went silent, but everyone was present, experiencing something personal, something special.
We left the desert, the same way we came. Only filthy, hungry, tired, and sad that we would now have to wait another year to come back to the desert. We packed up our things, making sure to leave no trace. But the world we had created, the mind set we had experienced came home with us. Over time, vivid images still dance in your brain, floating back to you when the weather changes. At the end, journey to and from Burning Man are finished, you embark on a different journey — forever.