How are conditions on Playa?
Fucked up. Really.
You don't have to believe me, god knows the local judge doesn't.
But, in this case, I am on to something. Sand snakes are everywhere.
If you don't know about them, sand snakes are small sand dunes that sometimes form on the lake bed.
As an historical puzzle, sand snakes only started to appear after Burning Man started infesting the playa.
Coincidence? or just our personal version of Global Warming. I'll ignore it, if you do.
Anyway, very dry conditions. So bad, there is serious discussion of making two extra roads out into the abyss.
What does this mean to you? Leave your bike at home. It's a walking year.
If you must ride, get the fuckingist fattest tires that your rig will hold.
Bright, functional front light, too. Sand snakes sneak up real quiet, and if you hit one at speed, you will sprawl.
Crusty bed conditions, too.
Gonna be a mucho dusty year.
EJ. Zaius. Kamikaze. Dudes.
No, for you three, I'll spell it out a la Venice Beach. D - O - O- D - S. DOOOOOODS.
Here's the bottom line. No matter whether the dust is beaten down or not, and whether or not sand snakes are everywhere or not, we still have radical self-reliance to see us through the dust. Two things, and two things only are guaranteed at Burningman: Dust and Fire. Everything else, we've gotta bring with us. And WE have to set the fires.
Things happen out there that you can't explain, and neither can I. It's why we go. And when we go, we've got to bring our A game. No holds barred. No rules.
I wish you all the best, whether you'll be there or not. But remember this: the Dustpocalypse is here. Now.
EJ, throwing your goggles away after last year wasn't a bad idea. Periodically these things need replacement and upgrade. Hope to see you all there.
>>>>>>Despite white-outs, playa boogers, pee jugs and the inevitable case of desert gnads<<<<<<
Wait, aren't those the fun things we go there for, in the first place?
I love white outs. Nothing to do, but play backgammon, smoke shishi, and no law enforcement.
Pee jugs are disgusting. They might have been good enough for Howard Hughes, but I aim for a higher plain of existence.
There are over 175,000 truck tires out there. go wash one off.
In our village, tire washing is a both a greeting, and sign of respect.
And, I'm not exactly sure what "desert gnads might be, but I think I'll settle for the bliss of ignorance, here.
OK folks... think of some of your favorite BM Playa stories that you tell.
Chances are that some start with...
"So we are in the middle of this crazy storm...."
"The wind was blowing so hard I thought my tent poles would snap...."
" it was so hot that we decided to cook our eggs on the hood of our car, so.... "
Adversity makes for great stories.
Be prepared, be safe and enjoy the elements!
Since Rob brought it up...
I was out on open playa about perhaps a mile from the Man and a big dust storm with whiteout conditions blew in.dust I had hunched behind an art project when out of the dust came a lone burner.I stood up so he could see me and he introduced himself.
"Yo, bro....I'm Rhino. And you are ....???"
"Nice to meet you....how'd you get the name? You a trumpet player?" (I had seen it poking out of his backpack)
"Yeah! I love to play."
"Well, could you play "What a Wonderful World"?"
"Sure, man, that tune is one of my favorites. But you gotta sing it."
"OK, I'll try."
He began to play, and I began to sing, same tempo as Louis Armstrong (though I can't do it justice as he could - - www.youtube.com/watch )
I didn't get past the first verse when the whiteout subsided.
I never saw Satchmo again, but that 'playa moment' is in my heart to this day.