The road is long and took me north to the fabled land, and I arrived following the directions from mapquest. Now for some reason when at home I didn’t necessarily print out the maps the way I wanted them. Which I didn’t know until there, on the “streets of the city” as they say, and it was a warren of weird one ways and totally screwed up byways. I went way past the place I needed to go to and had to backtrack, but only once. The place it was at was a nice sized joint called the Mission, I think, as the sign when I arrived said “Flambé’ Lounge” and I knew I was in the right place. I actually knew it was the place because when I drove by the front of it I saw a smaller version of a step side van that was painted with pretty swirlies and spirals and then I saw all the cars and I knew it was the place that would contain my people. And they, the people, were there en masse.
Walking up I forgot I had my knife on me, as I always have my knife on me, and I had to back track a bit and remove it from me and install it in the car. I had a couple puffs off of the pipe of froppery, and headed back to the place. As I walked to the entrance I passed a few street guys living in a small park. Off of the edge of the land there were strange glyphs of wood sunk into the water. Ancient extinct piers. They were beautiful, and I watched them for a time. I finished up my smoke, yes the devil still has my lungs if not my soul, and walked in to my first real burning man experience.
The e-mail I had been sent had said that if you dressed in your Playa finest you would get into the shindig for fifteen dollars instead of twenty. The guy at the front listened to my thoughts on my normal gear I’m in twenty four seven and agreed that it was Playa certified. So fifteen dollars lighter I entered and witnessed the menagerie.
