If I am honest about my main motivations for doing pretty much anything, I would have to say they are: boys and having a good story to tell. While some people might think these motivations are a little shallow, they have always kept my life interesting and always made me more fun at parties than people motivated by more standard stuff like money, fame, fear and just plain sex. Last year, for example, my friend Pete Hickok (a boy) went to Burning Man without me and I turned my jealousy and sadness into a story about making the most of the “Burning Man Rapture.” That was a good adventure, and a funny story to tell people who like funny stories, but the truth is, I still wanted to be able to tell the REAL story — the Burning Man story.
So when the chance came up, a week before the actual event, to buy a ticket and head out to Black Rock Desert, I did it without thinking too hard about what that would mean. I told Pete I was going and that I was going with him, even though he could only go for the first couple days and I couldn’t go for the whole time either because I have a job I like and you can’t just leave those things behind forever. Everyone, including him, told me I should go for the last few days and see the Man burn but the truth is, Pete is the only person I wanted to go with. He’s an artist, an awesome artist, and a really good camper and he’s sort of been my muse for the last 10 years. I didn’t know what this experience was going to be, but I knew I wanted to go with him.
So he assented and early Monday morning we headed out to the desert. I didn’t get too many pictures, because I was too busy experiencing the experience, but here are some impressions, from a short-time visitor and a virgin, of Burning Man.