i start the unknown day at an unknown hour, awakening to the insistent boom boom boom boom still pommeling the air. it is the exact same boom boom boom boom that dazed me to sleep somewhen in the hazy recesses of yestereve. i would gladly return to the restful womb of nothingness, but i’m drenched in an uncomfortable pool of sweat and i’m desperately thirsty.hidden in the tumbled mess that was once upon a time my ordered tent is either my leaking camelback or my alien head nalgene bottle. my swollen throat tastes like aluminum. i spot the blue technical mouthpeice of the camelback beneath an unlikely tangle of green fur, pink gauze and gold lame. i drink deeply… better now.
as the slogan goes, piss clear. make sure you are always hydrated. that’s not just a friendly suggestion. here, in this most inhospitable clime, the setting for this amazing adventure, the alkaline dust and oppressive heat suck moisture from your pores like a spongesuit.
i drink some more. i am pretty much a waterholic anyway, but this is an advanced level of addiction. i just wish it didn’t mean that i had to pee so much; i’m a little disgusted with my growing collection of light yellow water bottles. it beats the trek out to the porta potties, but leave no trace sure is a harsh mistress.
it is refreshing to be able to sleep like the dead, a welcome change from the horrible insomnia that has been plagueing me in that other wierd world that i have temporarily escaped from. later, in an unconscious nod to bucky fuller, i will abandon the ritual of a full night’s sleep in favor of periodic catnaps, thereby drastically increasing my functional waking hours. yet another boundary bruised and abandoned.
given all of the punishment my body has thrived in, it is hard not to feel invincible.
we have been partying like motherfuckers. my partner in crime, dbug, is simply my oldest friend on the planet. we have been an active force in each other’s life for over twenty-five years, though it seems more like lifetimes. fresh from my other reality, this trip has really emphasized that there are some things about the way i tick that only he understands. i suspect that will always be true. there is a wealth in someone knowing you so well, knowing the full history of you, the consistencies and the inconsistencies, the fads and the truisms, the heights of power and the dungeons of absolute failure. sometimes i’m amazed people like me at all and yet here is this great fucking human being, as crazy as I am, that still wants to be my good friend after all of the shit we’ve been through. blows me away.
i’m proud to say that under these extreme circumstances our friendship has thrived. he’s come to this, his fifth burn, ready to move beyond a series of upheavals, romantic and otherwise. i’m here on my virgin burn bloodied by an endless seige of work atrocities. we each began by eagerly peering over the edge of the abyss, hints of debauchery rising from the distance below, teasing the safety line between us. now it feels more like a tetherless freefall, butch cassidy and the sundance kid style. i haven’t had this kind of fun in years.
allow me to show you around.
at the back of our tight and narrow camp sits the horizontally parked “vulva”, a dishwater tan 83 volvo that we packed to the gills over the course of a hectic day with the help of some cool peeps back in the bay area. three bikes, a dozen boxes of equipment and clothing, four mammoth water containers, and three fuzzy orange pillows crammed against the back window announced our intention to those in the know. our sound system has been an ipod-powered speaker that was zip-tied to the top of dbug’s goggles in a moment of inspiration. when not on the dashboard or under the canopy, it is a wearable personal background music delivery system. our soundtrack has been lemon jelly’s ‘64-’95.
we’ve established camp bewlay brothers on the outskirts of the ever-evolving black rock city, a temporary metropolis nestled in the dusty crotch of an ancient lakebed. the scale of the city is incomprehensible. thousands upon thousands of fellow freaks camping in a barren wasteland. on the streetside shadow of the vulva, the bikes are corralled lazily at impromptu angles. on the other side of the bikes are our two tents. mine is playa-seasoned and largish, with an ill-fitting canopy that flaps in the wind. his is smarter, backpacker light and smallish. our common ground is the yellow, beak-like shade structure that fronts the encampment. from a distance it looks like a sleek, single-fingered claw. we’ve covered the unfortunate shade structure logos with the cheap duct tape i brought, sensitive to the no-corporate advertising ethic, but the tape is peeling ghetto in the heat and dust. regardless, we both feel a sense of pride about the logic and spareness of our set up. spartan with vibe. our camp had been realized with great difficulty in semi-white-out conditions and winds you’ve only seen in arctic exploration movies.
the shade structure is multi-functional. it is our kitchen, chill space, refueling station, and storage area. the thin arched structural poles are strengthened against the threat of wind by a stack of our multipurpose green storage bins at each of the tri-corners. a coleman and water jug on a makeshift table line the backside of one psuedo wall, while the other sides of the triangle are left open for viewing pleasure. the structure presents some odd challenges to movement; you must duck rather low to enter under one of the open sides and the central space is not quite tall enough to allow you to stand up fully. but the low curving edges afford peekaboo views of passers by, the growing neighborhood, and trolling law enforcement. lethargy is home on the orange-pillowed lawnchairs within. initially we spent a lot of time beneath this canopy, baking in the trapped heat, trying to acclimatize to the seriousness of the conditions. but as we have immersed ourselves more deeply into the greater world of the burn, our time beneath the canopy has lessened to brief respites.
we live on the “street’ temporarily known as gestalt. i’ll learn just how temporary when the street signs are removed after the burning of the man, just to fuck with everyone. when we drove in, after having delayed our departure for another night’s sleep, my only request had been to set up camp on any other street but gestalt. i’d worked for several years under the whim of an arrogant business owner who bandied the psychological term about incessantly. camping on fetish or ego sounded so much more appealing. but, alas, we’d arrived too late for those climes and begrudgingly agreed to see if gestalt would work. as our placement allowed us to marvel at the growing community and to enjoy some slice of welcome semi-quiet, it eventually became clear that gestalt had been, after all, a good choice.
stage left we are neighbored by super vet. 15 years of burning, baby. he has got his shit down cold. his set up is like a suburban apartment. he plays classical guitar music under his desert canopy during the day. at night his camp is marked by christmas lights. he is our oldest immediate neighbor. we helped him tackle the beast of his shade structure during the great storm of day one. he reminds me a lot of a quiet dude i once knew who had worked for years on an alaskan fishing boat. he’s got that geographer-cum-birkenstock thing going.
stage right is guy. he spent two grueling days building a camp for his late arriving posse. we are talking securing two-by-fours in the afternoon heat for hours. i’d felt bad for him until i saw him big wheel out of his nearly completed camp in a clown costume. he has also constructed the best portable shower i’ve seen yet.
behind us is camp hippy kids. they seem to spend most of their time smoking hash.
across the street, in front of us, are three encampments. at the right of the visual field you’ve got camp rv hell with the obnoxious never-ending generator that we discuss sabotaging more than once. next is rei couple with their tent, inflatable shower enclosure, and car all snuggled beneath a large tarp. i’m reminded of a nature channel special. at the left end is camp iraqi freedom complete with the beer-guzzling army dudes with their iraq memorial and trophy girlfriends. we almost break camp when they show up, seemingly representing just about everything we can’t stand about that frat boy bullshit. but their steady flow of good music is welcome, as are the semi-clad women.
dbug is passed out on his lawnchair. today his ensemble is primarily a pair of tight orange shorts and bulbous yellow sunglasses. he’s kind of got a mad genie thing going with his hair in a vertical ponytail. i start a pot of water boiling and try to decide which lazy ass food i can prepare with the absolute least amount of effort. dedicated vegetarians, we’ve brought tasty bites, cans of vegetables, instant rice, fruit leathers, wierd asian black bean oatmeal things, and a shitload of munchies. i settle for the black bean oatmeal because i am odd. the insta-nourishment tastes great. dbug eats like a bird. he’s twelve pounds dripping wet; i seem to carry enough extra weight for the both of us. in my newbie prep frenzy, i’d read that most people found that they ate less in this environment. it has certainly been true for me, but i’m determined to maintain at least minimal nutrient input to support positive altered states and bike riding with wild abandonment. the multivitamins and emergen-C packs have been working wonders.
before embarking on today’s misadventures, i take some time to lovingly lotion and massage my tired feet. as with the surprisingly effective baby wipe bathing methodology and the occassional shaving with hot water off the stove, i have deeply enjoyed the relaxed pace of attending to my bodies varied maintenance needs. in the default world i always feel like i am rushing through the daily ablutions, quick, take that shower! brush your teeth! gotta hurry up! gotta beat traffic! but here, i wear no watch and tap into the monkey grooming pleasures for as long as it takes.
in stages we begin to gear up. it is like prepping for deep sea diving or a space walk. copious amount of water? check. snacks? check. sunglasses? check. sunscreen? check. lip stuff? check. goggles? check. bandana? check. hat? check. are we sure about the water? check.
houston, we are ready for lift off.
