Granny Goes to Burning Man (Why not to go) by Karen Zethmayr (see Why to go)
The Black Rock Desert is barren, harsh, and foreboding; a nice place to read about. Normal temperatures are 100 or so by day and in the 30s and 40s at night. The fact that the terrain is called "playa" can be misleading if you speak Spanish. Forget beach, forget sandbar. It's hardpan alkali; prehistoric lake bed, fine as cement, taking flight at the gentlest breath.
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Sandals? Forget it. Despite the heat, you're better off in hiking boots. Playa dust eats cracks on the soles of your feet, and in some cases rashes that creep up the ankles, necessitating a daily vinegar bath to neutralize the alkali. Why then do 30,000 people descend on this wasteland each August to see the ceremonial ignition of a man built of two-by-twos? It helps to be a little crazy. People camp in small groups, they charter buses, or they go (as my daughter Hilary and I did) as part of a theme camp. The price of your ticket depends solely on the date you buy it and your willingness to abide by the very minimal rules of being a part of a temporary community in a gift economy, leaving no trace. The deal is, you pack in your needs, and pack out your waste. The only buying and selling allowed is coffee and juice at Center Camp, and ice at Camp Arctica. Everything else must be offered for free. |
Maurizio
Why
to Go
Installations by Night and Day
Transportation on the Playa
Oh Yes, We Got Rides
Guided Aggression
Art and Survival
See
Sights, Offer Stuff
Sporosites
The Last Burn
Reflections on setup & takedown
Sketches 1 / Sketches
2