|
[Macro error: Mac OS Error: -1409.]
start Getting There The Playa Our Crew Making Camp Life in Camp Black Rock Rangers Black Rock City Merchant Camp The Man The Obelisk Toast Camp Sushi in the Desert West Stage Shower Camp Shampoo Camp Hula Camp Rave Camp Other Scenes Denizens of Black Rock City One Couple on Parade Newton's Balls Camping Out The Happy Couple In The Air Art Cars On the Ground panorama
|
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
|
Burning Man 1996: Road Trip
It's the better part of a day's drive from San Francisco to the Black Rock desert. We head up the well-worn trail to Lake Tahoe, California (a summer and winter wonderland of hiking and skiing), on to the gambling city of Reno, Nevada, and then into the wilderness, towards the towns of Empire and Gerlach, Nevada.
Our team consists of a small crew of technomads, cypherpunks, and radio hams. We've all known each other through postings on various USENET newsgroups and mailing lists, but I'd only met one of them in the flesh, and that was two years earlier. This somehow feels right. Burning Man is that sort of gathering.
Armed with several vehicles, packing more food than we have any chance of eating, carrying about four gallons of water per person per day for drinking and cooking (too much water), we make a virtual convoy. Seth is the only one to join the convoy, meeting us in San Francisco and accompanying us to REI (Recreational Equipment, Inc.) in Berkeley before heading out. (Seth's van - leading the way - appears at right.) The others aren't able to coordinate finishing testing the shelter and driving, so we're staying in touch with them via ham radio, cellular telephone, and alphanumeric pagers.
Our caravans converge on Black Rock Playa, about three hours north of Reno, Nevada.
About an hour out of Gerlach, Seth's van lurches to a halt. I hastily pull off to the road. The view and silence are impressive. Mostly dead alternator. I jump-start Seth's van; it runs but has no lights. So I lead the way; Seth tailgates.
We drive into the hamlet of Empire, Nevada, and spy the Empire Store; all the shopping there is.
It's where the unprepared come to camel up on liquids.
A few miles down the road is Gerlach. We limp past Bruno's and into the Gerlach Texaco. The mechanic won't be in until tomorrow, we're told. So we leave the keys, wait for Stig's van, transfer some of Seth's supplies, and all head on out to the playa.
Ten minutes north of Gerlach we come to some small orange cones to the right of the roadway. Then we see haybales. And a small sign with the Burning Man symbol and an arrow to the right. We turn off the asphalt onto the desert surface. A volunteer comes up to brief us on the way out to the camp.
The instructions are simple: twelve miles east and two miles south. Why not a bee-line straight to the camp? Because the dust raised by driving across the playa will blow into camp if we do. We're asked to drive slowly, but nobody does. The attraction of wide open spaces makes people drive at 40 mph, 50 mph, 60 mph, and faster. Very shortly the visibility is down to inches. It's terrifying.
If you stop then people behind you might run into you. Not to mention the oncoming traffic. Even with headlights and running lights it's impossible to see other vehicles. So you place yourself to the right or left of the dust plume of the car in front of you and you make peace with the your deity of choice.
Somehow, we make it to camp. I place the car tag on the dashboard, as instructed, and step out of the card to stretch my legs on the playa.
|
subscribe
