Motorists, this is the last stop for gas and outrageous lies before Black Rock City.

Cloud construction

I suppose every gas station near Gerlach can be the last one from its own frame of reference. 

Dusty feet up on the window, and the four of us are driving in an exit caravan formation at 5 mph through a pure white dust storm. And as we're pulling away from the playa, I'm watching various camps folding up to go. I'm still feeling like I'm made out of buttery sunshine and warm honey, and I don't even care that that's probably an Herbal Essences scent of shampoo. Can't stop grinning like a maniac Cheshire, and the raggedy little book I've been scribbling in all week is just covered in kid-like serial killer font.

And I'm jotting down images and memories from the week, knowing that it's all running by me like the tide and waves, and that I'm writing some down in the same way that you'd run your hand over sea foam. 

I played My Heart Will Go On in this organ in the desert. 

I remember dancing like a gerbil on crack next to a two-story pink sheep that pulsed with the beat of the DJ riding its flank. And being upside down in yoga when a massive sandstorm hits, and everything is blinding but completely illuminated. 

Buying into a roda in center camp when I saw the berimbaus headed into the tent. Planning my days about snowcone camps, foam dome DJ parties, and the occasional hemp bracelet weaving class. Being chased into a side alley by the Running of the Bullshitters.

I don't think Burning Man is about changing your life, but just a way to remind yourself that there's a lot of happiness and humor in just about every situation and with almost anyone.

Burning Man is like discussing at midnight (on a school night, gasppp) how churros would make awful sex toys, musing about whether they would be easy to fry up, and then churning out a few batches of lemon verbena churros in cinnamon-sugar beds to surprise the house. That giddy kiddy joy both churro maker and churro-ee glow with  is basically how Burning Man feels, but for eight consecutive days in the middle of a dusty desert.

And we did make churros like that last night.

But back to BRC:

Yes, joy and thrills, but also tiring. and there are days where you're convinced that the past two days were just dreams you're having from Monday. And I know that in the future, there will be days when it's great to be able to tap into this deep storehouse of memory and good times, of how it feels to watch sunrise while biking through dust devils.

Timing of things was excellent since (1) my nonprofit had just told me they were out of money and would need to drop me like a hot potato and (2) there is a sweet boy who I could actually see myself dating.  No job responsibilities, potential beginnings, and I'm already sufficiently steeped in the Bay Area granola. Which is to say the Burning Man culture felt like a jazzed up Big Daddy version of what living in an Oakland co-op is like. Tasty food popping up with no warning, new people circulating your house all the time, occasionally being dirty but A-OK with it all. By Tuesday, Chris and I had gone native and Dark Horse & Wombat were prepared to live out their brave new lives in Black Rock Desert.

I recall that I spent one full day with a boy named Sasha that I will never see again, and that it involved an Orgy Dome, breakfast waffles, and a giant narwhal.

I'm not going to try documenting it all in detail, both because I don't think I've fully wrapped my mind around it all, but also I don't know that I want to. There's just a pleasant haze over it all, of dust storms and mayan pyramids, cold apple pie and getting lost, being found.

There was a lot of , "wow, everything that I ever wanted to do all in one place." And then someone hands you a cornbread waffle with ice cream.

I thought it was amusing that my handwritten journal during the week devolves in legibility like a parody of Algernon. I start in neat and tight cursive rows, and by mid-week, it peaks in there being pages of one giant scrawled letter per sheet. 

I'll definitely be back, and next time with reinforcements and the cavalry!