#22 / 2003 Tour 2: Burning Man Festival

BURNING MAN FESTIVAL

#22

Once a year, there are 30,000 people living for art in the truest sense of the term out in the Nevada desert. We spent almost five years researching and planning for a trip to the Burning Man Festival, but nothing prepares you for the reality of this 10-day festival in the Black Rock Desert. All the literature refers to the goals of the festival as the establishment of a non-commercial and tolerant community, and that it does. But this experience is so multi-layered that it just can’t be described in a few succinct passages.

The “Burn,” became a tradition on the beaches in San Francisco. All the burning caused so much concern that the festival was moved to the desert and even now there is talk that it may be moved again. It is a “happening” unlike any other.

If I had to categorize the festival goers into three main categories I would label them the burner community which is fascinated with fire, the art car enthusiasts, and the nudists. Most of the socializing and promenading is centered around the central playa, a vast expanse of desert dust with a U-shaped grid of streets on either side.

At the top reigns the Man, fated for a fiery death on Saturday night, and at the bottom is the café and ice house. Only coffee, tea, and ice are sold at the Burn. No commercial selling of any kind is permitted. Everything you need for your stay in the desert you must bring with you. If you run out, you are at the mercy of other’s generosity, which is great I must say.

Day and night the playa is filled with strollers, cars, bicyclists, unicyclists, and all manner of exhibitionists.

Until we experienced the Burn for ourselves, we didn’t realize the enormous time and expense people put into the effort. It almost has to be a West Coast thing, because the logistics of hauling these cars, bikes, burn installations, extra gas, water and food cross country are staggering. Many people rent U-Haul trucks just to get all their stuff to the location.

Just for a single example, Joe’s nephew drove to the Burn from LA. He hauled an enormous vehicle that had to be broken down into pieces and assembled on site. It was packed in a U’Haul. His art car takes an entire work force to amass all its equipment until it morphs into a huge, rolling silver ship complete with sails and rigging, capable of hauling 30 to 40 young folks who are dancing, swaying, and jumping on its frame all night long. There are enormous caches of gasoline stored all over the place, two and three story structures that have to be erected safely and soundly to hold thousands of pounds of humanity. And there are so many gas cans, barrels, and canisters that it is a miracle the whole place doesn’t go up in one big ball of flames.

Every year someone dies after falling off one of these vehicles onto the playa floor, where they get run over. There is no lighting to speak of and strollers have to wear lights around them so they can be seen in the dead of night. The Burn is a place for great abandonment, but you have to keep your wits about you. It isn’t a walk in the park.

Another thing we weren’t prepared for was the dust. There are dust storms that require goggles just to get around. Your vision can be obliterated in a white out. The dust blows through every little nook and cranny, heaping up on food bins, tables, chairs, it is overwhelming at times.

And the community created by this vast populace can be a bit overwhelming as well. It’s like any other community, some of these people you want to know, and some you don’t. Across from us at the street corner of Absurd and Reality was an enormous camp set up by a couple of defense lawyers from Reno. Their generosity and joi de vivre was astonishing. We even found a poet and writer there, and two fellow Tennesseans.

Across the other way an ex-patriot Englishman was set up in a huge RV. He remained completely nude the entire stretch of the festival and was earnestly seeking someone to torture his genitalia. He didn’t have much luck, though. But let me assure you that there was plenty of kinky stuff to be had. There were sites dedicated to spanking, atonement, confession and punishment. Every booth offered something be it free drinks, free food, free art, free tattoos, it was endless. Most people would bring something for trading, but it really wasn’t necessary. The whole point was to come together as a community and celebrate the Man.

Surely, George Bush and Donald Rumsfeld are not aware of 30,000 people running around naked, getting high, bartering, sharing, and having all kinds of illicit fun right in front of their neighbors. It’s just too un-Republican. But I don’t want to leave the impression that there is no supervision at the Burn. Large SUVs belonging to the Bureau of Land Management patrol the area. You have to be discreet to a certain degree, but believe me, a good time is had by all.

Would I go back again. It’s hard to say. Tickets run almost $200 apiece. And for all our preparations, Joe and I were really inadequately stocked. You really do need at least a bicycle to circumnavigate almost four square miles of desert. And the bathrooms can be half a mile away. I wish we had brought more to barter with, more to share. But it was an experience I will never forget. I met some amazing people in every respect of the word. But it was an endurance race against the dust, the wind, the heat, the cold. I might sum it up as an anti-establishment fantasy that scoffs at the mundane and conservative. I loved if for that reason. If you want to know more, just do an internet word search with “burning man festival” and you will get there.

Here’s Joe’s thoughts on the experience:

The Burn 2003Joe Speer

Preparation of mind, body, spirit,

well-stocked larder

and precious water

head for Black Rock City, NV

where a municipality

erects itself one week a year

complete with new friends

and amazing sights

we lived for ten days without

spending money except for ice

to neutralize the heat

30,000 residents with time

to serve the community

volunteer as a minion of the ice queen

or a barista in center café

give your best

and the community gives back

be prepared for eco confrontation

as the wind blows dust into

the carburetor and retina

have goggles and sunscreen at the ready

when the incandescent orb

surrenders to the dark inchoate cool

with luminous visions and laser beams

emanating from the Man

-the proud symbol awaiting immolation

there was a last-ditch movement

to save him, regal on his platform

but the fireworks erupted and he was

consumed in flames and cheers

we view the urbanization as an

impendent wilderness

pack it in and pack it out

stagger the exodus

say good-bye to an exemplary city

back to the default world

of commerce and competition