September 4, 2008 by Captain Tuesday.

The man burns in 4 days

Shaking the dust thrown off by passing vehicles from my head, I crawled out of bed, and stumbled over to my new best friends, COFFEE camp, the social hub of the universe, sometime around 9:00am, and had quite possibly the best cup of instant coffee every created by a human being. Jermo is the shit for his coffee making abilities. Once I woke up and gathered my wits about me, it was time to start making preparations for my plans of the day, which included getting the cameras registered and tagged as press cameras, getting our press passes, and then off to the workshop for making a fire staff. It took about an hour to gather the FVR writers and head out to Center Camp, and we had some fun walking there and looking at the new arrivals on their way in. After signing the contracts I had a few questions to ask at Media Mecca about ownership and rights of all the pictures taken, as the wording in the contract is all in legalese. The answer was simple, Burning Man LLC owns all pictures and video, and grants us a free license to use them. Some people think this is kind of a dick thing to do, but if you think about the craziness of the event, the wrong image getting into the hands of the wrong politician or into the mainstream media could put a serious damper on future festivals. Needless to say, I signed without hesitation. Then, Mr. Pete and Mongoose headed off on their own, and I headed in the direction of 7:30 and Fairlane, to build my very own fire staff.

Since the workshop was so close to camp, I stopped back in and refilled on water (lifeblood of the event really), grabbed the power drill we brought along specifically and only for this particular workshop, and walked one street counter-clockwise, and 2 streets outbound. On arrival, I found the workshop director, Captain Salamander, and introduced myself as a participant, and a member of the press. I grabbed my 5ft section of aluminum bar stock, took some pictures, and got to work. All in all, it was pretty easy to do. The absolute hardest part of the whole process is cutting the Kevlar. Kevlar does not cut easily, and the scissors we had just weren’t doing a very good job. After that, it was really a piece of cake (yes, the cake is a lie…). Upon completion, we celebrated with some homebrew porter provided by the Mooncake Rebellion camp, and hung out for a bit. Then I had to bring the drill back, which was never even used, and was so proud of myself that I was walking around holding my staff in the air saying “I has a staff!!” and yes, that is exactly how I said it.

I went back to camp, grabbed my cup, ran across the street to Raise The Bar, and got myself some of that world famous PBR. Everyone who saw the staff immediately noticed the fresh Kevlar and asked me when I was going to set that thing on fire. I then had to explain that I’m still a n00b and wasn’t yet confident enough to light up, so instead some people showed me some new moves and transitions, and other people just said “good luck!”. It was awesome. After my liquid lunch, I decided it was time for a hike. Mongoose had mentioned that some of my friends from San Diego were camped in the vicinity of 3:00 and B street, so I headed in that direction, by way of the Esplanade. Again, I met some very interesting people, one of whom (Bob from camp AOK, who gave me a patch remarkably similar to that national campground place) had never heard of a fire staff, and started quizzing me on its purpose and use. He was actually quite excited about the whole deal, even though he wore only a top hat and shoes. Moving counter-clockwise from there, I met another person with a staff, but he was doing contact staff moves. Contact staff involves using every part of your body, except your hands. Wrists, arms, elbows, shoulders, head, neck, back, etc. He showed me some other cool moves that I will definitely need to practice. I just don’t have the fluidity needed to perform them properly, let alone transition from one form into the next.

Once I made it to 3:00 and B st, I stopped in at the ranger station, hoping to find my friend Sasquatch. Sas is easy to find in a crowd. You just look for the head towering above everyone else. In the case there are two, just look for the one with long red hair. Sas is a cool guy, and a computer nerd and thinker like I am. Plus, we have the same taste in booze. You just can’t argue with that. Unfortunately, he didn’t know where any of my other friends from SD were, so I asked where the nearest bar was.

(You should probably get used to that. It’s going to be a running theme.)

Off to 2:30 and B, one block away, to the Petting Zoo. Apparently its just a name, as I didn’t see anyone being pet, or anyone doing any petting. *shrug* up to the bar for some beer, now that I remembered to grab my cup from camp. After another search in the vicinity of 3 and B, I headed back to camp, by way of the open playa.


Just off to the 12:00 side of the 3:00 avenue, sat a small cubicle. If I were someone other than myself, I would consider this very odd, and wonder whether or not there was some extra special something in that last drink I had, but truth be told, I wasn’t surprised. Other people might be surprised at what people haul out to the desert, but not the Captain. Sitting in front of the non-functional computer screen, was an attractive female, whose name I have since forgotten, surrounded by another attractive female, and a dude, whose names also have escaped me. The woman sitting at the desk informed me that she was taking dictation, and would I like to dictate a memo. So I began:
Me: “To whom it may concern”
Her: “To all you Fuckasses”
And, well, I’m sure you can get the idea from there. To make it short, my memo informed all who might be concerned that I was lacking in female accompaniment, and this problem needed to be rectified immediately. I can’t give you the full dictation, as I was being severely distracted by female #2 lucking my navel, and sucking on my nipple. After dictation was over, we went on a campaign for moop against moop, the idea being that moop isn’t moop, it’s just waiting to be repurposed.

Once back to camp. I took a short nap, and headed out with the Colonel. Around and around we wandered, in whatever direction the playa took us. A bar here, a bar there, some art over here, another trip to The Man for some up skirt shots of The Man, not the people, and then to the fire trees, which blossom into fire art at night. One tree bore the fruit of the fire jet, which is, as its name implies, a jet. The difference being that its less of a jet, and more of a rocket, except with four nozzles, instead of one, and all nozzles pointing to the center. So its less of a jet, and more of a rocket, and less of a rocket, and more of a pendulum. Many pictures were taken. At some point, we headed towards Center Camp for a rest and possibly some random encounters. This is where things first started to suck. I wandered over to the main stage where some sound problems were happening, to offer my assistance, and got to know everyone there. I went back to the seat I was at, got my bag, and started back to camp. About that time, I started to wonder what hopefully you are wondering too, namely, what happened to my firestaff……  Yep, you guessed it. It disappeared. My cup was still there, but no staff . Sad, defeated, and grumpy, I went back to camp, and went to bed.

Disarmed but not Defeated
Captain Tuesday

Posted in Burning Man, News | Print | No Comments »

September 4, 2008 by Captain Tuesday.

For me, this year was yet another learning experience. Unlike my last burn in 2005, I had a much better time. I had a ridiculously good time. I think I had more fun than is allowed by most state laws. Good thing for me that it was in Nevada, where you can get away with things like that. And now, I will begin my AfterBurn Report

The Man Burns in 5 Days
Driving through Nevada in the wee hours of the morning, we kept looking to our left, waiting to pass the low hills, trying to get a view from the city, looking for the monolithic structure that is The Man. We were still 12 miles or so away, so when we finally got a glimpse of him, he was just a slightly tallish looking speck just below the horizon. One structure was clearly visible, but we didn’t find out about it till later. At the time, I thought it was some industrial building far beyond the city limits. Driving through Empire and Gerlach we passed many burners taking one last break, and picking up very-very-last-minute supplies. I had to laugh at them, because the residents of these last two towns on the way to Burning Man are making a killing at the registers. The towns are small enough that everybody knows everybody else, so spotting a burner is pretty damn easy, although being covered in fur is kind of a dead giveaway. Quite frankly, I feel that the residents should absolutely charge a higher price for last minute supplies, for two reasons. Firstly, as burners, we are supposed to practice Radical Self Reliance. We should already have everything we should need or want at the burn. And secondly, these towns are small, and don’t have the infrastructure to handle 50,000 tourists buying up all their drinking water and gasoline. Those poor burners will probably have learned their lesson after paying over $5 for a gallon of gas, and about as much for water.

Once we turned off the highway, and on to entrance road, things started to get a little surreal. One lane split into two, and then into three, and ultimately into 8 lanes, plus two bus/RV/camper inspection stations. They aren’t inspecting for contraband, but instead for stowaways and people trying to sneak in without a ticket. Some people didn’t get the memo about no ticket sales at the gate anymore. Some people (who had tickets presumably) got out of their vehicles and were walking around talking to and entertaining the other drivers. For awhile, I was the only person in the truck, sitting behind the wheel, waiting for the line to move, and everyone else was out wandering around, talking to people, making a short hike to the porta-potties, and one had to make a nice long hike to the will-call booth to get the ticket he purchase online shortly before sales ended. There were other people riding on the hood of their car, drinking beer and enjoying the excitement of not falling off when the car moved. One guy was in a camp chair, on top of a huge RV. After about an hour or two in line, we made it to the greeter station, got our maps and our what/where/when guides, and the three virgins got out and rang the bell, as tradition, and The Captain (me), demand.


Up next was finding a good campsite. After two false starts in spaces reserved for theme camps, we finally settled in at 8:00 and Dart, right next to the porta-potties, and miraculously, right next to COFFEE camp, the self proclaimed social hub of the universe. We all unloaded the truck, set up the tents, did a quick organization of stuff, and then lost all visibility in one hell of a dust storm. Guess it’s a good thing we stopped for more goggles on the way out, since two of us (not me) forgot to get some. For me, it was a first. In 2005 there was only one wind storm, at 70mph, and carried mostly dirt, not sand and dust, so you could still see a bit. This dust storm came with a vengeance.  40-50mph winds, fine-grain dust and sand covered everything, and reduced visibility to about 5 or 6 feet. You could be standing right next to someone, and not be able to see them. Well, me being the adventurous type, I gathered up the Colonel, Bumper, and KB from COFFEE camp, and we all went to see The Man, in the middle of the dust storm. Ipod and Mr. Pete, when asked if they wanted to join us in our first visit to The Man both said “In this? Are you fucking crazy?” to which I responded “Yes. Yes I am.” We had fun, saw lots of cool art, and climbed to the top of the obelisk, atop of which stood The Man. Once we finished with that, we made it back to camp in one of the few calms of the storm, and had some White-Out White Zinfandel. Then I took a nap, and learned that napping in a dust storm still requires goggles.

Evening twilight proved to be quite nice. The temperature dropped to what I’m going to guess was around 60 degrees, and the dust went away. As soon as the sun set behind the mountains, everyone in the vicinity let out a primal scream, and that’s when the parties started happening. We gathered the campmates packed up some water got our cups, and went in search of beer and booze. Being a Monday, not too many people were set up yet, so it was quite a trek to find an open bar, but eventually we succeeded. Apparently, the beer of choice for Burning Man, is none other than that cheapest of beers, Pabst Blue Ribbon. I like it at home because it’s cheap, doesn’t taste too bad, and gets you drunk. Well, on the playa, it tastes downright awesome. We finally ended up hanging out at the Duck Bar (so named for the giant rubber duck on top of a mast which says simply “BAR”) listening to the DJ spin some tunes, and generally having a good time. Colonel Mongoose, the famous drinker, decided to go wandering off, and I decided that I was still pretty damn tired from the long journey and the no sleep since Fresno, even after my nap, so I went home and went to bed, and slept like a rock.

This concludes my Day 1 report, and there will be more to follow, so keep checking back. As usual, if you have any questions or comments, click the link below that says (gasp) Comments

Because it’s not Monday anymore
Cpt Tuesday

Posted in Burning Man, News | Print | No Comments »

September 4, 2008 by PT Rothschild.

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION!

DCP Zone, CA – Tuesday morning brought out the best in Black Rock City, the home of the Burning Man and my greatest adventure – bar none! The mother of all dust storms was over and the skies were a clear blue. People continued to stream into the ‘city’ and build their campsites, structures, and habitats, so it was time to shake the mud ball bearings from my eye sockets and look around at the neighborhood we had staked our campsite in. First, we were close to a line of porta-potties that were serviced so well by United, who replaced ‘Johnny-on-the-spot’ cause Johnny wasn’t according to some of last year’s ‘burners’. This close-to-the-John accessibility also provided a continuing eye-opener as many of the young women who looked like SI models and visited the potties came dressed for the weather. (Ed. Note, if you are under 18 and reading this report, please go and tune in Spongebob or the Fairly Oddparents as the rest of this article will be a hard PG-13. OK, you’ve been warned).

Dressing for the weather in Black Rock City means clothing is optional, be ye male or female. Interestingly enough I had been having a conversation about this very idea with some Muslim friends of mine. I held the position that if clothing became extinct in a flash, people (guys) would gawk a bit at first then the ‘newness’ or in this case the ‘nudeness’ would wear off and we would forget our shame incurred from The Garden Caper. The society of Burning Man and the city of Black Rock proved me right in my opinion. Whether you were a ‘shower’ ( a male whose penis is already as large as it will get except flaccid), or a ‘grower’ (a male whose penis grows longer & larger when going from the flaccid state), or a model from America’s Next Top Model show like JL who placed fifth last season, no one gawked at you, either male or female. The body is accepted just the way God delivered you into the ‘Default World’. Of course not everyone was doing a full Monty but the ones who were came in all ages. (I broke down once as I ran behind a water truck for an impromptu shower).

Some people on learning that I was a writer worried that The Man might become mainstream but I don’t think that will ever happen because to come here, you can’t be homophobic or a prude. You can’t depend on money to give you status. You can’t buy a drink here* or impress a woman with your bling. With the absence of commercialism and money to set up a class structure, the BRC is a level playing field for all the people there, young and old, fat and thin, tanned or white as a ghost. Of course having daytime temps in the 90’s-110° range fosters that freedom and liberation. But it’s more than that at BRC. And the location we had was awesome.


Besides our three friends at Coffee Camp, there was another campsite facing Dart Street just in front of our camp. Three college girls, two with male companions, took open showers periodically. Across the street on ‘D’ was a large camp that played a lot of Rolling Stones and had a triple X bar lounge but I never did find out why they had the triple X name. Next to that bar sat a fire truck that had its hook ‘n’ ladder fully extended (a ‘shower’) where people who climbed to the top rang a bell. One afternoon a young lady performed various trapeze stunts using a sash that dropped from the ladder. Against the setting sun backdrop it was hard to see whether she was performing ala cart.

Behind the fire truck was parked a ‘mutant’ vehicle that resembled a very large bug with two big eyes that were actually metal grill framing that held any bicycles put there. Mutant vehicles are called ‘art cars’ and this one was my redeeming ‘landmark’ that pointed me back to my side of town after the mind-altering after-burn walk around the smoldering Man early Sunday morning long before the crack of dawn. But perhaps the coolest feature close to our corner real estate was a place that became my favorite watering hole, a place called both ‘Raise the Bar’ and the Spectator Camp. My name for it was the Tree Top Lounge because it was as high as a tree top and offered a compelling view of the city.

I’ll cover this bar in more detail in ‘A Place Where Everybody Knows You’re Game’.

The TTL operates in one of the three ways you can obtain a drink, be it a beer, a highball, or a cup of ice, at Burning Man*. At the TTL you throw the dice, then you perform as indicated by the number you threw that is written down on a cardboard menu. At other establishments you may either spin a wheel of fortune or mosey up to the bar with your empty cup and just a parched look on your face to receive a drink.

One other mention about my favorite bar this time out is the fact that they provided live entertainment through a funky, hot seven piece band called Moogot2 (moo-got-two) who came over from Humboldt County and played in the adjacent camp lot. For those of you who know me from reporting the new music scene around the Valley, you know that this ‘live entertainment’, playing original music within walking distance, was ambrosia for me.

To be continued…

Next: So Many Bars, So Little Time – A Place Where Everybody Knows You’re Game

(*- You may use money to purchase coffee at Center Camp, the only spot for it)

All Photos my columns PTR/BRC 2008 used with permission.

Posted in Burning Man, Our Favorite Things, InViews, Music, News | Print | No Comments »