the playa

i saw the pictures, i heard the stories and i had even had people try and discribe the experience of burning man to me in great detail, but i still wasn't prepared for what i found way out in the nevada desert, hundreds of miles from anywhere on a dry lake bed the size of lake george, called the playa.

when i told friends and family that i was going to attend burning man, people were either unaware of the festival at all, sceptical of it, writing it off as some dirty hippy drugfest that was past its prime anyway, usually without actually having attended to make the judgment, or lastly, they took on a warm glow and just softly smiled at me, giving me the impression they knew something magical about my future that i didn't.

briefly, bm started around 20 years ago when, after a particularly trying year, a san franciscan guy and some friends burnt a small wicker effigy of a man on a beach in california as a celebration and farewell to aspects of themselves that were no longer relevant to now and onward. since then it has grown, and subsequently moved to the nevada desert and attracts around 40,000 people. the basic idea is that the camp and festival sets up on a dry lake bed and after a week of celebration, ceremony and much more, the man is burned and everyone vanishes, leaving no trace behind. part music festival, part art installation and part experiment in temporary, low impact habitation, bm has become about much more than, but culminating in, the burning man.

i secured a ride in SF and after many hours on the road through california and the desert, we found ourselves in the long line of cars, 4WDs, caravans and RVs driving out on the huge flat expanse of the playa, heading for the gates. the theme for this year's burn was "the green man", basically sustainability. the irony of which can be amusing as you follow the long line of huge SUVs, hummers and house-truck RVs toward the front door, and pass the landing strip set up on one side of the playa complete with parked private planes.

just as i was about to get sceptial, however i passed the first of many signs on the long winding road between the gates and the festival proper, that said "its not as good as it used to be." huh? the next one said "last year was much better" and then "its just a bunch of tired hippys in the desert." , and even "how can all those SUVs and trucks be green?". and so went on a long line of signs that basically fed every pre-conception or cynical attitude i'd heard, and many more, right back at you. while weird at first, it did somehow allow me to suspend any opinions or scepticisms and just open myself up to the experience. as we drove in the gates, a large african-american guy dressed as a dove leaned in the car and asked "are there any burn virgins in the car?" i nodded and was told to get out of the car. he and three others then gave me a big hug.

"welcome home" he said.

it was pretty incredible. i didn't know anyone when i went in, but i met a whole bunch of weird and wonderful people and the sheer scale of the event is mind boggling. there were temples and statues and sculptures upwards of 90 ft high, and 3 story mobile birthday cakes with a dancefloor on the top. there was a full scale replica of the thunderdome, complete with crowd hanging off the walls, weapons and elastic harnesses, where you could choose to fight with foam toys, or iron bars, whatever your particular fetish dictated. the best way i could describe it is like the bizarre love child of woodstock and mad max, held somewhere on tatoine (complete with armys of jedi and speeders). unreal. there was even a bar called "cameltoepia - the pink pussycat lounge". i'll refrain from too much detail here, though.

the festival was a feast for the eyes, ears, feet and loins, whatever your particular desires required. a night of wandering the playa partying with a PR guy from Apple who was dressed in a big chicken suit and a guy called "the chadillac" will go down as one of my life's more memorable experiences. just when i though it couldn't get any better, some guy next to us said "hey, there's some cool dj playing over the other side of the playa"

"what's his name?"

"ummm....oakenfold, i think..."

and the rest of the night was history. on the last night they burnt the man (again - some pillock tried to burn him prematurely the previous week), and the place grew to a creciendo. after things died down and we arrived at the the last morning, the sunrise was beautiful over the nevada desert, but i was faced with a small problem. i was booked on a flight out of san francisco 24 hours later, and had no ride out of there, for the 10 hour trip from nevada. a lovely lass called stacy, who was part of the same camp i joined, wanted to get back as well, so we decided to just wander out to the exit road and hitch a ride back to SF. i was confident in our manifestation capability, and felt sure a safe, reliable and expedient ride would present itself.

as we got to the exit gates, we realised that we didn't have a sign to our destination, so i said, "you keep an eye out, while I write one". i hadn't even retrieved my pen, before i heard her yelling at me from the middle of the road. i turned around and there she was standing next to the biggest RV i've ever seen, with the door open, as a hydraulic staircase was descending to the ground. bingo, we had a ride in 23.7 seconds.

the driver was a guy called dave from san jose and he seemed like a cool guy. the surprise was, he was the only one in this monstrosity, that was roughly the size of your average interstate coach. anyone who's seen "meet the fockers" will know what i'm talking about. it was a beast.

we were set. a ride across nevada and california in a condo on wheels. would we prefer to travel in the front, the lounge room or the master bed room? we couldn't have manifested any better...

things started to go awry about 30 minutes into the ride. the beast started wandering in the lane and dave started to look like he was flaking. in hindsight, i should have seen it coming when he asked if we'd had any sleep the night before. "are you okay man?" i asked...

"yeah, we took some crazy acid last night and its knocked me round a bit."

pause.

"have you ever driven anything this big before?"

now, lets just get this straight. i've never been to the US, never driven on the right hand side of the road and never driven anything bigger than a ford transit van. but for some reason i wasn't in control of my mouth.

"yeah sure man, heaps of times."

stacy just looked at me. i couldn't bare looking back, otherwise i was going to crack, but i just knew we had to get dave out from behind the wheel and into bed, otherwise we were likely...well...lets not go there. put it this way, the last thing we needed was the nevada highway patrol getting interested. dave looked like a health and safety commercial when he took his sunglasses off, and i didn't want to know what they might find in a thorough search of the RV. we pulled over and i got in the drivers seat.

at first i was terrified, then once i got a feel for the humungus proportions of the RV, things went pretty smoothly. in fact, a few miles down the road i realised that i had discovered something. something i never thought i would after only 2 weeks in the country. i realised that i had landed smack bang in the middle of the american dream.

admittedly, it was a bizarre hybrid of grizwald lampoonism and thompsonesque fear and loathing, but i had found it. plowing through the nevada desert in a rolling condominium with a girl called stacy and dave the acid freak. things went smoothly from then on in, and i even started to enjoy myself. just when i thought the experience couldn't get any richer, somewhere outside of reno as we pulled out of a gas station stacy reached over from the passenger seat...

"here, i got you some beef jerky."