I'm up really early this morning after a restless night. I must confess that, on this particular morning, I'm a little nervous. Normally, I tend to do things without "over thinking" them. I evaluate the options, assess the risks, then just do it...whatever "it" is. But, this morning, I'm "over thinking" Burning Man...there's the drive up there, then getting into the event, then finding my "camp"...all in a crowd expected to top 50,000.
After coffee, I'm loading up the Escape. I packed most of my supplies yesterday, but I waited until this morning to pack the cooler. Soon, I'm packed up and saying my farewells to Tom. It has been great to have the opportunity to spend time with him after so long.
At 9:00AM, "on the dot", I'm off. First, I work my way through Reno to I-80. From there, it's a about fort-five miles to the exit for Gerlach. Traffic on I-80 seems normal...no backups or delays. Then, I exit I-80 and pick up Route 447, north to Gerlach. As I head north, the traffic starts to pick up...rising the crest of a hill, I can see a long line of cars, vans, motor homes, etc. in front of and behind me. Still, I make pretty good time on the 80 miles or so run to Gerlach. Along the way, it's hard to miss the heavy law enforcement "presence"...local police, county sheriffs, State police...they're stationed every few miles along the way. I also notice that a lot of my fellow "Burners" are having problems...quite a few cars, vans, etc. are stalled along the way.
At Gerlach, I turn east for the final ten miles to Burning Man. Turning into the entrance, the traffic is now heavy (really, really heavy). Soon, I'm in one of eight long (really long) lines of vehicles. The line moves slow...really slow. But people, including me, are out of their vehicles walking around...chatting with fellow "Burners". Four and a half hours later, I am directed out of line to "will call" to pick up my ticket. The line at will call is long (really long), and it's oven an hour and a half before I'm back in the vehicle line, ticket in hand.
Now the wind has picked up, and the swirling dust is so thick that you can hardly see ten feet. They hold Burning Man in the middle of the Black Rock Desert on land leased from the U.S. Bureau of Land Management. The whole area is covered by a layer of very fine, high-alkali dust...and, when the wind picks up, it gets pretty dusty.
It's another hour and a half or so before I finally get to the "gate"...a few questions (no firearms, fireworks, etc.) and I'm "in"...well, almost "in". Now I'm in line to to get to the "greeters"...they answer questions and help with directions. I pick the wrong line, as my "greeter" is a hairy older guy as opposed to the cute gal in the next line over. As a "Virgin Burner", the custom is to get out of your vehicle, lay down, roll around in the dust, and ring a large bell...OK...I comply.
Te Burning Man "site" is laid out in a large semi-circle. Main streets correspond to hours on the clock...from 3:00 on the right to 9:00 on the left. Intersecting these streets are cross streets alphabetically named..."B" is "Baghdad, "C" is Cairo, "D" is Detroit, etc. My "camp" is in the top and middle of the semi-circle at the inner Ring Road and 8:30. So...I turn down 6:30 and head into the crowd. I'm having trouble finding the Ring Road, but a couple of volunteer "Rangers" try to point me in the right direction. The problem is that the Ring Road has it's own set of "hours on the clock", and those "hours" are different than the rest of the site. So...I'm driving along...totally lost...when it starts to rain. That Black Rock Desert dust, known by fellow Burners as "Playa Dust", becomes stiff as cement when it gets wet and...soon...there's a couple of inches of it caked on my tires. Still lost, but convinced that I'm close, I pull over and head out on foot...big mistake. By the time I walk twenty feet, the mud has built up on my shoes...they're higher than those of a Bourbon Street stripper.
Now cold, wet, muddy, hungry, thirsty and thoroughly discourage, I head back to the Escape and resume my aimless driving. And then, a small "miracle". A guy walks over to my vehicle and, seeing that I'm thoroughly lost, asks me where I'm heading. I tell him the name of my camp...and...as it turns out,,,that's HIS camp. I made it! Well, not quite. I still have to go forward a hundred yards or so to turn onto a one-way service road to get to the parking for my camp. My new friend and camp mate, Barnaby, tells me he'll be waiting with a cold beer. So...I start forward and, after 50 yards or so, I'm directed to stop by a Ranger. Because of the rain, all traffic has been stopped. So...I'm less than fifty yards from but I can't get there...yet. The wait is over a half hour and, after ten minutes or so, Barnaby catches up with me to make sure everything is OK...I feel most reassured. During the wait, a beautiful rainbow appears...then a second one...a good omen!
Then, the traffic stop is lifted, I'm in my "spot" and I'm enjoying that cold beer with Barnaby and his wife. And, as Barnaby puts it..."Bill, you're home". That I am.
Now relaxed, I meet some of my other camp mates. The bulk of our camp is arriving by bus, but no one knows for sure when. They've had mechanical problems and, at last word, were on their second bus of the trip from Michigan.
As night falls, the temperature drops...it's cold. With my famous knack for getting lost, I decide to stay close to camp. A can of "Steakhouse Chili", while not "gourmet", is an easy dinner. A few beers and, by 10:00PM or so, I'm ready for bed. There will be plenty of time for exploring tomorrow and over the days to come.
It has been a long (really long) day. But...I made it. And for seven days, I've got a new "home".
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