Posts Tagged ‘Fernley’

Where Am I?

September 1, 2016

Who am I?

Who is this woman?

Flying up in the sky.

At oh, about 12,500 feet, over the Sierra’s, which let me be frank, was a fuck of  a lot better than how I got over the Sierra’s.

Really, nothing says it’s going to be a long ride to the playa than finding out that the roof on the car that was picking me up was not in working order.

Oh yes.

That’s right.

We drove through the night, in an open top convertible VW Cabriolet.

It was cray cray.

And may I just add.

Hella fucking cold.

I mean, we drove through the mountains at night with the top down.

In the end, it didn’t matter, we got to the playa, albeit once we landed the poor kid’s car got crop dusted with playa from every vehicle driving past.

Who the fuck needed to do dust angels on the playa when we were already covered?

He dropped me, dropped all his clothes, from an untied garbage bag stuffed in his trunk, and once I got all my stuff out of the odd nooks and crannies I had to shove my things into, I gave him a hug, told him to relax and have fun and pointed him in the correct direction.

I have no clue what happened to him.

But I am assured he had enough molly and hits of LSD to make sure it was a fun trip to his side of the playa.

Note to folks.

Don’t tell your ride share that you are carrying drugs on you.

Just don’t.

Discretion is the better part of valor.

Also.

When it’s suggested that you not have your bicycle cover up your license plate or obscure it in any way, really, listen.

OH.

And.

Navigation in certain desolate places in Nevada is not always spot on.

“Don’t turn,” I said loudly, I didn’t holler, I didn’t grab the wheel, but I almost did, he was totally on autopilot listening to his navigation system.

“But the navi says to turn left,” he said in a voice that was young, 23, slightly white male privileged and very naive.

“Honey,” I said in a kind voice, a voice that was beginning to be over being kind as I had talked him out of returning to Reno to buy bell peppers from the Safeway after having a text fight with one of his camp mates all the way past Fernley, “there’s not a road there.”

There was a dirt track leading God only knows where, but it was not leading to Burning Man.

The navigation insisted and for a moment I really thought the kid might just off road it and defy my suggestion.

Fortunately he did not and we got into Gerlach and refueled at the last gas station in town.

Then.

Burning Man.

I should call it “I didn’t get much sleep, man,” I mean really.

I didn’t get a lot of sleep.

I had gotten up on Friday at 7:30 a.m. worked then came home and left for the event and drove through the Sierra’s, remember in a chilly, drafty open roofed car.

Although, I will say it was beautiful, the Milky Way, the dark skies, the stars, the nebula and the two shooting stars I saw, exquisite.

We landed on playa around 3:45 a.m.

After a rather long, protracted grocery stop in Reno, wherein there was much re-packing and re-sorting of the small amount of space in the car.

After getting through Gate, getting the kid’s ticket from Will Call and getting to where I was camped, it was 5 a.m. by the time I had gotten my stuff to my small spot on the playa.

What was fortuitous though, was the sky starting to brighten.

By the time I had my tent up, my bins sorted, and my air mattress inflated, it was already beginning to get hot.

I tried.

Oh.

I tried really hard to lay in my tent on my new blow up mattress, but man, without a shade structure, it was just too hot to sleep.

I got up.

I did shit.

I did eventually take a nap in the communal shade structure and thank God.

I might have cracked.

I only really got emotional once the whole morning, and that was when my air mattress pump died.

I was like.

Fuck me.

It hadn’t held the charge and only blew up my mattress about a quarter of the way.

I was bereft.

Until.

Heh.

The playa doth provide.

A friendly neighbor in camp said, oh go across the street to the Electro Shock Therapy camp, they can help you out.

And help out they did.

It was a solar powered camp that had strips of chargers and before you knew it I had gotten my air mattress blown up, bed made, and was lying in a hot box trying to nap.

I retrieved the item that was to save my life, a black out sleep mask, and found myself reclining in the shade structure.

I got about an hour and a half of sleep.

Enough to get me going again.

I went to a birthday party that night and dressed up and was up until about midnight or 1 a.m.

Most nights I was up about that late and most days I was up by 7 a.m.

One day I was up at 5:15 a.m.

I went to watch the sunrise with some friends from camp on an amazing art car that took us all out to the far reaches of the event at the trash fence.

It was a spectacular sunrise.

And there were beautiful sunsets.

Long bike rides to deep playa.

Crazy conversations struck up out of nowhere.

Running into unexpected friends.

Being told how good it was to see me.

Getting tons of hugs.

But.

No kisses.

No boys.

No hook ups.

I just treated the whole thing like and art and recovery retreat.

It was fantastic though, no matter the  I am tired bit.

I am not spent.

I am happy.

Happy I got to go and got some good photos.

Although I am a little concerned, I’m having some trouble with my regular camera.

I think the dust has finally gotten to it, I’m going to try a few things, but I may have lost some photos.

Such is life.

And I have my memories.

Loads and loads.

And a day to sleep in before I head back into school.

A day to readjust, catch up on the sleep, and um, oh, yeah.

Go see Mike Doughty play.

Nice to be home.

I have no complaints.

Not a one.

I am so very happy.

Yes indeed.

I get to sleep in a dust free bed, I got the playa out of my hair, and I get to see a great musician tomorrow with friends.

Life is lovely.

Nighty night y’all.

I have some much needed beauty rest coming to me.

Sweet dreams my friends.

Sweetest, undusty dreams.

Window in the Heart

August 27, 2014

I’m going to Graceland.

Er.

I mean Burning Man.

Yeah, that thing.

I actually went to it yesterday.

After the epic down pour, shower of hail, lighting and thunder, lighting strikes (three people were hit that I am aware of, one of them I met today he was across the street from my camp–it exited through his foot and blew a toenail off!) and being trapped in the Commissary for five hours, it was a great day.

Sort of.

I mean, in my head it was a crazy day, a day of trepidation a day of serious consideration about my work, what I do, what my part in my community is, what I can do to be of service, how to act from a place of love and how to let the fuck go.

I got up in the morning and did what I do.

Except it was with a certain kind of foreboding of what the day would bring, confrontation was on my mind and I was unnerved by the previous day and I the gift of an unexpected day off.

Sometimes unexpected time can throw me the fuck off.

What the hell was I going to do?

Well, you know, there’s that Burning Man thing happening.

The rain had started in the morning around 6:30 a.m.

I woke up to the pounding on the roof of the trailer and I went back to sleep, thinking it would pass and it was far too early for me to be getting up on a day off.

Despite knowing that I was not going to be up late anyway–I had to be up to go to the Commissary which is closed by 8:30 a.m.–if I wanted to have breakfast.  Especially since I would be riding cross town on my bicycle, not riding with the family since it was a day off.

I made my bed.

I said my things and read my stuff.

And I started to get dressed and that intuitive voice spoke up loud.

“GO!”

I was debating what to where, it was cool, should I layer, do I want this dress, those tights, “GO!” rang in my head again.

Ok.

Geeze.

Chill.

How about…

“Go!”

I looked at my watch, yeah, I guess I should go, I am going to be cutting it close with the hours and I don’t want to miss breakfast, so I slid into a black slip dress, threw on a sweatshirt and pulled on my boots, no makeup, no flowers in my hair, nothing glittery.

I mean, I figured I would just get all dressed up after breakfast.

I hopped on my chopper and hit to the Commissary.

I made it about half way from the 9 o’clock keyhole across the playa when it started to rain, not a down pour, but definitely a serious kind of rain, not a light mist, not a “I’ll just be passing through” sort of shower, but some serious water.

It was like taking a cold shower and I hustled up to the Esplanade and turned down 5:30 toward the spot and I got there, wet, but not soaked and happy to have made breakfast hours.

Little did I know how lucky I was to make it when I made it.

By the time my breakfast was done it was a downpour.

I had popped out to use the john and by the time I had gotten back it was falling hard.

There were about fifteen, twenty of us in the Commissary and we just sat it out, and the sky open and the deluge began.

It’s still wet playa around the tent today, despite having a full day of sun to dry it out, there are still spots of wet that are slick and slippery and stick like glue to anything with a tread.

I struck up a conversation with a  woman and we spent the next two hours talking children, she’d left her 20 month home with hubby to come out to the event (or soon to be hubby, he sent her as a wedding gift, they’ll be married in October), that’s the kind of hubby I like, and we just had a rapport.

And of course, hours to talk.

There were plenty of worse places to be.

I was tremendously grateful to have gotten out of camp–nary a thing to eat in my trailer except apples, and I would have been pretty isolated and by myself.

Not that I am horrible company, but it was far preferable to be where there were people and hot coffee and music.

We all sang along to “Singing in the Rain,” and giggled at the silliness of it.

The city shut down and a snow day was declared.

All vehicles held at the Gate.

Traffic turned back and Wadsworth and Fernley back to Reno.

I heard of 22 hour waits to get in.

Thank God I was at the Commissary.

And eventually, the lighting passed, spectacular to see a bolt shimmer down in a gap between the white tarp and all the lights above me flicker out.

The storm knocked out the power grid in the center of the city, the internet, and communications were reduced down to the radios and word of mouth.

After lunch I walked over to my friends camp which was nearby, the sun had been drying things out, but not enough for me to use my bike, and I spent time with them.

I went walking with a good girlfriend and had lovely talks and we wandered the playa with others on foot.

It was sweet and spacious and open.

No art cars, no vehicles, a scattered few bicycles, and folks walking, converging, conversing, getting to know their neighbors.

It was an amazing experience.

I went back to her camp, met with some fellows for an hour, then back to the Commissary for dinner.

By that time I was ok riding my bicycle and the event had re-opened the gates.

And now it’s Burning Man out there.

I had a few other things happen.

I’ll tell you later about all the magic of last night.

Now it’s time to wrap up and sleep.

I only got three hours last night and I worked a full day and I have a full day tomorrow.

But.

I found out that despite having yesterday off, I am still going to be given Thursday off, an unexpected gift.

When more magic shall be had.


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