Burning Man This Year: In Which My Camp Mates Depart Black Rock City

I figured that the episode at Playa Information was about as good as Burning Man was going to get for me this year.  So after lingering a few bonus moments at that wonderful map of Black Rock City, I got back on my bike and went back to camp. Okki and Ash would probably be getting up soon, to attempt to join the Exodus.

When I got back--about 3 AM, the neighborhood had quited down a little. The Euro Dance Camp across the street had stopped playing music, and the exiting cars and RVs were still backed up, but no longer to our camp. Our corner was quiet and dark now.

I wanted to tell them and the others about the secret way out of Black Rock City, at least according to what DPW had told me. In the dark, using my headlamp, I drew maps to the route, and a suggested best way to get there, to avoid the traffic.

While I was doing this, I heard a noise and found Kevin coming out of his tent. Of course I was glad to see him.

It turns out that he and our fallen camp mate had been at the Rampart Medical Camp while we were there---they were in the back room. In any case, all had ended well. There had been an IV, but nothing more.  Our camp mate was peacefully asleep in his tent.

At his offering, we used his SUV to take my bags from our camp over to the Burner Express bus stop at 6:00 and G.  I was really thankful for that, since it saved me from schlepping them over there in the dark. It wasn't far away by car, but the fact that the City was half-empty meant that navigating the streets was difficult. Many of the familiar landmarks were gone. It was a challenge to identify where streets had been. One had to follow the small orange poles, like slaloming in the dark on a ski slope.

We found the bus stop easily, since I'd already checked out the location. I left my backs in the dark beside the wooden shelter, then we drove back to camp. Okki and Ash were up by now. Their awakening was well-timed since the traffic around our camp had finally dissipated. We all agreed traffic was breaking and it might be the best time to get on the road. I told them about the Secret route. They didn't waste time getting on the road. We said quick good-byes to each other.

That left Kevin and me. Kevin was wide awake, and given that he had only three days at Burning Man, he was eager to go out again, in the waning hours of the official week, to enjoy as much as possible. I told him that I had seen multiple clubs still open, with music playing. I told him I take him out to find them.

On bikes it was pretty easy to follow the old remaining streets in the dark. We headed right for the Playa, along the 8:00 road. aMost of the familiar landmarks from the past week---including the place where I'd spanked that woman from California---had been dismantled, or being being so, and almost everything was dark now. The dark stillness was particularly eerie when we got to the Esplanade.. The "Crashed Blimp" club at the corner of 8:00 and the Esplanade, where we had stopped and watched those freaky burlesque dancers on stage, was almost completely nonexistent by this point---a relic of memory.

All the remaining action was out on to the Playa, so we headed out there. I showed Kevin the remnants of some of the art installations that had been there through the week, as we passed them, including the crashed alien spaceship wedged into the Playa floor at a steep angle (crashed vehicles were a huge theme this year). Then we arrived up the site of the Man, the embers of which were still burning.

From there you could see what remained of Black Rock City. In the 10:00 direction, the great giant DJ clubs were all dark, like ruins. No lights remained to remind one of their past glory.

It was clear all the action was out in the 2:00 direction. The clubs there, smaller than the giant DJ venues, were thrill throbbing with light and activity. The giant geodesic dome of Fractal Planet, which anchored that edge of the city, was illuminated and surrounded by a small crowd of art cars.

Kevin agreed that's the direction he wanted to go---towards the light and music. I told him that I had to drop off my bike now, so this is where we would have to part. We gave each other a warm embrace and went our way into the darkness.

I lingered a bit on the open Playa. I biked up to the rangers who were still tending the embers of the Man to talk to them.  The orange glow of the burning Temple was visible to the north. It was still quite a fire. I thought about going there, but realized I didn't need to---I had seen the Temple burn officially.

I realized that it was time to wrap up the week. No sense in dragging it out. So I took a bearing on what remained of the dark city and headed towards what I thought was the 9:00 direction. The Crashed Blimp at 8:00 could no longer serve as my guidepost.

As I approached the Esplanade, I saw dark trailers and tents, with a few lights on, as if it were the edge of a quiet mobile home park in the desert.

The 9:00 plaza was easy enough to find---it was a wide gap in the line of trailers. But Slut Garden was just a memory--workers were taking down the remnants of its scaffolding. I went into the plaza and easily found the remnants of the Playa Bicycle Repair camp. There were a few trucks there, and light coming from the back of one. A man was in the truck loading bikes into the back.

Not wanting to interrupt him much, I rode up and asked where the best place to drop off the bike was. He motioned to an area slightly aside from where I was standing. I put the bike there, with the broken parts duct taped to the bike. I told the guy in the truck about the seat belonging to the Yellow Bike project.

Then I split, on foot at last, back through the dark trailer-park streets and out onto Playa. I realized there was no point in lingering.  I would have plenty of time to hoof it, so longer as I went straight back to the bus stop where I'd dropped my bags.

I went out through the 9:00 plaza again, and cut across the Playa one last time towards Center Camp, which was brightly lit and easy to find at the 6:00 direction.

Since I was no longer on a bike, I no longer needed my head lamp The batteries were flashing anyway, to indicate they were running low. So I turned it off, and walked across the dust lit only by the golden neon glow stick around my neck---a raver to the end.