Day 2: Burning Man Festival, Black Rock City, Nevada

Diane: John found us in Kidsville today. John was our savior as he arrived in a van stuffed to the gills with items to help ease the harsh desert experience. We spent the better part of the day designing and putting up a parachute shade structure.

Looking up into a draped parachute, filtering the midday sun, waving in the breeze is visually enchanting. It is also an oasis from the midday heat.

I am physically challenged in this desert environment. TM and Calliope both asked Tom if their lips looked as white as mine. No matter how much ointment I apply, within half an hour, my lips are once again chapped. My hair is like straw, sticking up to the right side and covered in playa dust. Scalp crud is increasing at an alarming rate. Playa dust looks like sand at first. But as the wind blows, you get a thorough covering of very fine, beige, silty powder. If it gets wet, it immediately clumps into clay. If it blows up into a dust storm, you cannot see two feet in front of you. Wind whips down the playa, picking up tracks of dust and making dust devils. My fingers are starting to crack, especially around my thumbs and right index finger. Dirt has gotten into every crack, so that I can’t seem to get clean, even if I wash and moisturize every hour. Drying fingers leave little bits of skin protruding and my fingers catch onto finer materials as I touch them. My fingertips are losing their sensitivity, due to their dry state. Going out into the wind, often means that the dust attacks my eyes, leaving them irritated and ready for bed. To protect my lungs from the small particles, I wear a bandana that covers my nose and mouth. I have kept my feet bound up in thick socks and hiking boots, so as to prevent heel cracks. This is one strategy that has met with total success. The midday heat has been unbearable, even for a Floridian. With windows closed, both the car and tent interiors are little suffocation chambers. If I open the windows, I get layers of playa dust inside. Under the parachute, the wind can still cover me with dust. When I am outside in the strong daytime sun, I stay totally covered to avoid sunburn. Although I am very excited about the upcoming art, costumes, performances, burning, friendships, and wild vehicles; all I want right now is to spend some time alone in comfort.

Tom: First day in the desert, we are definitely not in Florida anymore. The sun is really strong and it is very hot but the symptom that Florida has taught me to look for is absent, no drenching sweat. Here it is dry, dry, dry. How dry? Lips crack and peel, skin flakes, nose goes crunch when you squeeze it, elbows look like lizard parts, hands look like your mechanic's but with beige crud in the cracks instead of black, feet start to come apart as callouses crack, cracks extend like the veins in a leaf as your skin parts at the will of the dust, everywhere is dust, beige, powder fine, wind driven, the same dust that drove an empire to drop red coats and black trousers as a uniform and adopt a new uniform color, khaki, it is a word taken directly from Hindi, it means dust-colored, here we are all khaki, khaki hands, khaki feet, khaki snot, khaki teeth, khaki alkalai dust everywhere, khaki dust beige-outs blot out the sun, wind sculpts you, blasts you with waves of abrasive dust, eyes disappear shielded by goggles, a dust mask armors mouth and nose, hats cover heads and we all are anonymous, scary looking aliens in constantly shifting world of sun blasted wind driven dust.

John, a long time friend from Colorado College days, rendezvoused with us today. We tried to get both John and his spouse Kim, they are excellent company. We know this because Diane, Kim, John and I last had an adventure together in 1985 when we went on portaging trip through the Boundary Waters Wilderness. We tried to get both of them to the Burn but Kim has obligations as a physician besides not favoring mass gatherings, hence only John for this one.

Day 1: Orlando to Reno, NV to Burning Man Festival, Black Rock City, Nevada

Diane: We sensed hints of Burning Man even before we left the Reno airport. Those folks with the baggy pants or those with the greenish hair or the garish pink fru-fru outfit. We were all picking up luggage like we were going to a nearby hotel. But, in fact, we were off for a survival experience in the desert. First stop after the airport was an outerwear outlet store. We were all sucked in to the vortex of bargain prices for quality gear. We sucked ourselves out, while there was still enough daylight left to get us to Black Rock City.

On the way, we went grocery shopping. While at the supermarket, Tom had a dental emergency. He was chewing gum and a permanent crown came out. While Tom was dealing with finding treatment and loading up the car with 35 gallons of water and a week and a half worth of camping food, TM and Calliope disappeared. They were both responding to an ice cream emergency. I don’t think either of them had had any ice cream for at least a week. One must have priorities. Certainly getting to a dentist before closing-time plays second fiddle to a smooth, creamy, sweet dessert.

One ice chest and a dental visit later, we were on our way. We arrived after dark, received a warm welcome, rang the Burning Man Virgin bell, found Kidsville, and set up camp.

Calliope: Once we were at the airport in Orlando we had some extra time, so I went to Starbucks with TM. Once I had finished my Passion Iced Tea, I filled my cup with milk and honey from the condiment table, and we were off. The flight was uber, uber long. The snacks, as on all flights, sucked, but the view as were were going over Nevada made up for it. We stopped in Las Vegas, and I really wanted to get off the plane to stroll down the strip, but alas we were going to Reno. When we got off the plane in Reno, we saw many people who looked like they were headed for burning man. It was at that point that I realised that I had not brought enough funky clothes. On the way to the rental car place I told my parents that I wanted to stop in a thrift shop before we left Reno to buy some new funky clothes for Burning Man.

We got the rental car, got food and other supplies, and were on our way. The drive to Burning Man was long. It was I who got to sit in the back with the cooler and supplies, so you can imagine I didn´t get much sleep on the way there. Once we got to Black Rock City, I was wide awake. We arrived at our campsite at around 10, but we were all exashted (there is a 3 hour time difference between Florida and Nevada!). Mom and Dad are sleeping in their tent, and TM and I sleeping in the car. I can´t wait to explore Black Rock City tomorrow!

Tom: Up at 4:15 AM to make a 7:05 AM flight from Orlando to Reno. We got out easily, took the shuttle to the airport and discovered that Diane's driver's license had abandoned us at the hotel. Ease turned to mild distress as Diane left us to retrieve the errant I.D. and we checked in at the curb. Southwest graded our performance giving the timely three A boarding passes and the tardy one a C. Fortunately the person at the gate let us all on together and we were able to sit together. We had a three stop flight, Houston, Las Vegas, Reno and all went smoothly. At the baggage claim I noticed that not everyone looked like your typical Reno casino junketeer. The fellow in the matching puffy pink and black tiger stripe faux fur jacket and boots with the giant cowboy hat was my first anomaly. A woman in her twenties with spiked fire engine red hair, black patent leather ultra mini-skirt with matching six inch platform sole knee high lace-up boots and black and white spiral striped leggings was recounting the hassle she had gotten at security because her face had enough metal in it to set off all the detectors. The next person who looked out of place was a trim, athletic looking, clean cut fellow in his late fifties who had a huge grin on his face as he stood waiting for his luggage with his with his arm around a very attractive and much younger woman. He would not have seemed unusual except for the large carry-bag the woman had which contained two sets of large feathered wings, one white set and one red. I looked at them, smiled and said, "Burning Man?" His grin got so big I thought his head would split in two and he said "Burn Baby!" nodding the affirmative. She looked a bit nonplussed and asked me how I had picked them out. I nodded at the bag with the wings and she blushed.

We got to the car rental agency easily but they did not have the small suv we had reserved. Instead they gave us a huge, shiny, nearly new GMC Suburban with almost all the options, the manager helped us get settled and was great. We were ready to head off when he asked me where we were headed and I naively told him Burning Man. He stayed just as cordial but immediately began going over every detail of the car with a magnifying glass and telling me what the festival was all about as he had heard from some of his friends who work in law enforcement. It was clear he did not want his vehicle returned full of playa dust, I had no clue what he was talking about but I assured him that we would return the car in as good condition as we had received it. He gave me his card, told me to call him personally if there were any problems, then he handed me the keys and we were out of there with Diane letting me know at some length what a sap I had been for telling him where we were going.

While shopping for supplies I had a minor dental emergency that might have been major if had happened in the desert. As I was able to get to a dentist immediately tragedy was averted and after an extra two hours we were off to the Black Rock Desert soon to be Black Rock City.

Packing

Tom: This is my suitcase, it seems plenty big enough, perhaps a bit too big, who can tell at this juncture. In any event, it is not going to Burning Man with me. I am going to leave anything critical for the South America trip at home and safe. I do not want to risk losing my carefully chosen clothing and gear to the vagaries of the desert and the airline baggage system. When I say carefully chosen I mean that these items have been through a long and difficult committee review process. We spent hours, as a family, in the living room, reviewing the contents of one another´s luggage for items that were unneccessary, frivolous, heavy or better than what I had. In the end we all came away lighter and better equipped. I still assert that I might have occasion to use my scuba gear, although I have never used it previously.


Diane: Although my first impulse was to be fairly autocratic and limit what each of us would bring, I knew this would only bring rebellion. As a group we needed to decide what was most important to have along and how much we were willing to watch over. Individually, each of us needed to fill an empty bag that we would have to schlep around with us for the better part of a year.


We opted for "Show And Tell" with feedback.


show-and-tell: I'm bringing 3 pairs of quick-dry underwear.
feedback: I don't want to live with wet, soggy underwear hanging in our hotel room every other day. Bring a few more pairs.
show-and-tell: I'm bringing 5 pairs of hiking socks.
feedback: You can get away with less than that. Besides I like the smell of your feet.
show-and-tell: In that case, maybe we could share our hiking socks and you wouldn't have to bring any.
feedback: Good idea!


This worked very well.

Tom: This is my suitcase, again. It seemed to have shrunk on contact with my neccesaries like vitamins, sunblock, hiking boots, wood carving gear, scuba tank and wet suit. During the committee review process I had to elimimnate the scuba gear. This seems a shame given the broad range of opportunities to scuba dive throughout the Andes.

Hurricane Charley Bypass

Diane: It's been a week since Hurricane Charley passed us by. For the day or two leading up to the storm, our house was forecast to be flooded by a 10'-14' storm surge. OH HOW LUCKY WE WERE!

This could have been us:

Calliope: We got to stay at Uncle Charles' house. It was really fun; I got to sleep in the TV room and watched as much television as I wanted (that is, until Mom kicked me out to do Florida Virtual School).

Julie: When Calliope was at Charley house (wink wink), I was at my grandma's house away from her (tear tear). Ah, but we were on the phone 24/7. Hurricane Charley did not hit but it got Charlotte and Lee counties. You get it CharrrrLee.

Tom: Storm out on the Gulf Stream, big 'cane comin' soon... There was no reasoning with this, Charley was coming, no matter how ready we were, we might be out of luck. The projected track had Charley making landfall at Anna Maria Island, twenty miles north of us. Living on a barrier island is a joy, until you hear that a hurricane is coming. Our house was built in the early 1960's, single story, slab foundation, cement block walls, nice and solid and no post-Andrew mandated structural reinforcements for holding the roof to the walls. Hit by 145 mph winds our beautiful white metal roof would probably lift off and fly across the Sarasota Bay like a Frisbee. This would be a bummer. The other edge of a hurricane's sword is the storm surge. The Coriolis effect is an inertial force described by the 19th-century French engineer-mathematician Gustave-Gaspard Coriolis in 1835. The Coriolis Effect is what makes the water swirl counterclockwise when you flush. It works on hurricanes, too. Where we live, to the north of the eye the wind pushes the water out into the Gulf of Mexico. To the south of the eye, the wind pushes the water toward the shore.The tide starts to rise and just keeps rising, up past the tidal debris line, up past the low dunes and sea oats, up over the beautiful landscaping of the waterfront mansions. Everyone on the island wishes they had waterfront and now, for a while, they will. The water just keeps rising, pushed by the circling winds. The island becomes an underwater sandbar. We are at six feet above mean high tide, a ten to fourteen foot storm surge would turn our house from a habitation into a hazard to navigation. This doesn't even begin to address making the choices of what you carry away to safety and what you leave behind. We were fortunate this time. The storm came ashore fifty miles south of us, we had nothing but a summer rain on that Friday the thirteenth that Charley came a callin'.

TM: When the hurricane struck, I was in Rowe, MA. I was completely cut off from almost all contact with civilization. I had been calling my house for the last day and a half, and had been leaving messages during the time as no one was there to pick up. I found out about the hurricane from a friend who answered the rec hall phone, delivering a disturbingly garbled message that there had been a hurricane and that everyone was alright. This did little to assuage my fears, and I was not able to get in touch with ANYONE for the next few hours. Eventually I got through, and found out everything was alright, but it was a bummer to have my night stomped by worry.

Grandbird: There were seven of us staying at Charles' house. Ace, myself, Diane, Tom, Calliope Hilda & Lisa. Although the threat of a storm remained until 2:30 p.m. on Friday, we all had a pretty good time with one another, which was very nice. Hilda brought her own bed. It was a bed frame and a blow up mattress all in one bag. Lisa slept in the room with the pull-down bed, Diane and Tom in the guest room, and of course Ace and I used the master bedroom.. Oh, yes, Calliope took over the den couch.