Playing on the Playa

I review my three-page packing list for the last time. Bike? Check. Sequined bra? Check. Twelve gallons of water? Check. Yup, it was all there. After months of preparation meeting with my fellow campmates and shopping for supplies, I was ready to go. Although I’m not entirely sure it’s possible to ever be fully prepared me for Burning Man. The week-long celebration of all things creative and kooky was beyond anything that fell into the realm of reality or predictability. The tradition began in 1986 when a group of friends built a statue of a man on a beach in San Francisco and burned it in honor of summer solstice. Several years later the event moved to Black Rock Desert, Nevada and grew from a small gathering of friends to a population of more than 50,000 in 2010. Black Rock City, the most populated city in the county for a week, now has avenues, radio stations, a fire department, and a DMV (Department of Mutant Vehicles).
I arrived just after 2 a.m. after battling traffic and the dawdling of my fellow campmate who was equally nervous for our first “Burn.” I quickly drop off my things and hop onto my bike excited to explore Burning Man and the surrounding open desert. Black Rock City is more than five miles across and extends several more miles into the empty desert where you can find random pieces of artwork and even buildings. On my ride I pass advice booths, purple dinosaurs, and a playground of stripper poles. I venture away from the lights of the metropolis and into the vast shadows of the desert. I stopped to watch the moon rise, a slow ascent over hundreds of thousands of stars. Looking down I notice a beetle crawl by, it’s dark silhouette piercing the fine white sand. Just then a yellow submarine chugs by playing soft Beatles music and pulls up next to me. I ask for permission to go aboard and find a small ledge on the open top next to a man in a leopard costume. The chilly breeze slithers across my face as I stare out across the empty, quiet desert on one side and the bright lights and loud music of Black Rock City on the other. It was as if all my months of preparation were for this moment. In a sense they were, this fleeting moment in this ephemeral city reminded me of the transient nature of life itself. Never knowing what’s next and at the same time not knowing what could happen. I’m sure Black Rock Desert is beautiful anytime of year; however, I prefer to go when you can see the yellow submarines, purple dinosaurs, and stripper pole playgrounds.