Black Rock City: Burning Man

For people with an open mind, an artistic bent, and an ability to take a little discomfort, Burning Man is The Place to go. We just got back from our first visit to Black Rock City (the city that grows up overnight at the Burning Man festival--a city of almost 40,000 people in the middle of the Black Rock desert). I feel like a new human. I feel expanded. I feel sad and displaced, as if I found my home and then had to leave again.

I am not going to describe what Burning Man is--there is no way to describe it quickly and a long explanation still won't give you the picture of what it is. I will tell you what it wasn't (for me and my family)--it wasn't a drug-addled week, it wasn't a rave or a place to go look at naked people--it was art and community. Search for Burning Man on google--it'll give you more info.

The first few days I wasn't really getting it. I was hot and dirty. It was hard taking care of Phoebe in such a strange environment. The trip was our shake-down of our 5er and we immediately discovered that the black tank wouldn't hold fluid. Joy--there we were in the middle of nowhere, a totally leave-no trace event with a black tank that wouldn't hold fluid. I was kicking myself because I saw water leaking when Greg brought it home, but just assumed a bit of water was normal (why?). Luckily though, it was just the black tank, not the grey tanks (our rig has a galley grey and bathroom grey). I was physically and mentally tired at the start--we drove all night and arrived at 4am Monday morning---I do NOT do well with no sleep. Between lack of sleep, dehydration, and heat, I didn't start feeling normal until Wednesday.

Greg and I alternated nights out--Greg went out Tuesday, I went out Wednesday. You don't see the full spectacle of Black Rock City until you see it at night. Black Rock City is laid out in a big circular horseshoe and the innermost street is called the Esplanade. The Esplanade at night is marvelous--full of music, drums, movement, light and color. Towering columns of flame shoot up periodically and light up the inner playa. The playa itself is full of movement--art cars lit up with jewel glowing lights; bicycles covered in fur, paint, and lights; costumed people on foot with flashing LED lights and glows. Every sense is assailed with art and music. The moon was more glorious than any man-made objects can be--she put on quite a show and at times I just sat on the playa and watched the clouds play around the moon. I walked for hours.

Over the week, we gradually met more people and made new friends. We originally planned to start our trip on the east side of the Sierra at the hot springs, but now we will likely start by a trip to Shelter Cove to visit new friends.

Burning Man does not allow sales--the only thing for sale there is coffee and ice--sales benefiting the local school. For people immersed in a society of consumerism, it is strange to be thrust into a community that is based on self-reliance, gifting and barter. People give one another random gifts, boxes here and there have signs saying “take something, leave something”, the local boutique is based on barter. When someone touches your heart, you give them a gift. Camps here and there offer services like massage, healing oils, or just a place to relax for a bit. I felt myself gradually relaxing more and more, relieved from the constant barrage of buy buy buy.
One night walking around, Greg and I stopped at an intriguing structure—it was a large wooden spiral with a small entrance and a huge neon sign saying simply, “Gift”. I entered, walking around the spiral into the hidden center. Inside was a lovely circular room. Small shelves on each wall had bowls and boxes of various shapes and sizes. Small signs said things like, “gifts forgot to give,” or “ the gift of thought, write your immediate thoughts or ideas,” “small gifts.” You could spend whatever amount of time you wished opening boxes, investigating boxes high and low. I had to pull myself out to give Greg a little time to peruse. And typical of Burning Man, I told myself that I must return, but never made it back.

I have so much more to write, but I’ll have to leave this here for now and return to add more later.