In the summer of 2003, Charlotte and I decided to take a trip across the country by rental car (why a rental? Don't ask--it's complicated, dull, and annoying.), stopping at various friends along the way, seeing the sights, and culminating in our annual visit to the Burningman festival in Nevada. This is the diary we kept along the way.
|25-26||Hot Springs AR|
|?||Oklahoma City OK|
|31||Mesa Verde CO|
|?||Grand Canyon AZ|
|11-13||Los Angeles CA|
|16-24||San Francisco CA|
|24-Sept 1||Black Rock City NV|
|2||Salt Lake City UT|
Music, earplugs and ouch.
Burning Man was very loud this year. My first mistake was arriving fully rested, which meant that exhaustion didn't take over. Ahhh, the joys of techno. After trying several sets of earplugs, I became very sad because they let through the neighboring camp's MC Hawking physicist rap at around 3 am. Uh...hmmmm. The despair of not being able to sleep and knowing that it is virtually impossible to get new earplugs was dreadful--no vending to speak of at Burning Man.
Wandering around Burning Man you can strike up conversations with random people more easily than in the world at large. Also, at Burning Man people will give you stuff: stickers, necklaces, bracelets, hugs, scarves, anklets, alcohol, footrubs, and literature (Stuff We All Get or SWAG). A woman started talking with me and then out of the blue offered a set of earplugs. I figured this was a sign from the universe and despite the fact that I had tried several pairs, I accepted another set. These turned out to be much better than the several other sets I had tried...yeah, sleep.
Friday evening the nearby music was loud enough and the speakers strong enough that the ground beneath mny sleeping bag was thumping to the beat. Nope, earplugs wouldn't work for this. Saturday morning we move the tent and sleeping bags to an area of walk-in camping--no generators, no music, no speakers, no circulating artcars with loud music and no randomly wandering guys with BULL-horns (-I have not seen a female at Burning Man spewing nonsense through a BULL-horn...ever....hmmm?!). Sleep is good.
The walk-in camping area is cordoned off with a fairly taut cord to keep vehicles out, prevent folks from driving over tents and the like. Monday morning I am riding my bike like a bat out of hell, in the direction of walk-in camping. My brain realizes the cord is there and in about 4 seconds I have full impact. The cord snaps. One end whips the side and front of my upper right arm and on its way across my body whips nastily around the nice soft inner skin on mu left upper arm. OUUUCCHHHHH! My arms look as if some one snapped them with a whip. I could have come away much worse....6 inches higher and it would have been my neck. Had I fallen off the bike, it could have been a head wound. Simple water is painful on contact, so no swim in the great salt lake for me. Owwww. I decide I have been pretty lucky. Sebastian deserves a reward for sympathy.