Getting situated

They say "getting there is half the fun" and I sincerely hope that "they" are wildly inaccurate in their estimate of the travel:destination enjoyment ratio. As much fun as it is to cruise down the west coast in the middle of the night I am fairly certain that a week at Burning Man will have more to offer. We'll find out soon enough.

After passing through the entrance gates it's time to find the camp which will serve as home over the next week. The street system is very easy to understand and laid out in a simple and straighforward structure but once you leave the main drags and get within one of the "blocks" all semblance of order seems to break down into a mixture of concert festival seating and land grab homesteading. Some of the larger theme camps apparently already have their plot of land reserved with the organizers as is the case with the "Shift" camp where we'll be staying. But on the drive through the low rent areas it looks like it is pretty much just park and set up your stuff. Just like in a movie theater, everyone wants their space so people stake claim to roomy areas and give themselves buffer zones to other camps. The further away from the "front" of your street you are the more sparsely populated it is and the more room you'll have. If you want a spot with more convenient access to the public porta-potties then you'll have to endure somewhat more densely populated surroundings. Still, there is plenty of room for everyone.

Thanks to the intelligently laid out street stystem it is no problem navigating to our camp at 5:00 and Esplanade. There are street signs at each intersection and I've already researched the Black Rock City layout to know exactly how to get there. The location is on prime real estate; the high rent district, front row center section, just off the field on the 55 yard line. Whatever phrase you want to use for premium space, this is it. Centrally located to minimize the distance to wherever you want to go and right on the main drag. It's like being in a hotel located in the middle of the Las Vegas strip...except for the hotel part and all its yummy air conditioning, swimming pool area, indoor plumbing, and comfy beds.

We press on through the bad neighborhood and make our way to the sunny side of the street. Without any clear signage I'm not entirely sure that we are in the right spot since the 5:00 and Esplande block is fairy big. We pull off of the road and park in a relatively open area. I get out of the car and scan the area for indication that we're in the right spot. I see a smattering of recreational vehicles, clumps of tents, random cars parked around the area, a large canopy structure, and rental trucks but no clear sign that this is the right camp.

There is some semblance of loose structure to how the camp is laid out but it is a far cry from the sketched out map on the camp's website. I ask around and try to find someone who can point me in the direction of someone "in charge" who can tell me where I should park and set up camp. Before too long I find one of the camp honchos and she says to keep a few access areas clear but otherwise just park wherever. I scope out an area the pulls the car toward the center of camp to keep it away from the street and is adjacent to a bunch of tents. I confirm that the spot will be OK and we move the car over to that spot.

Now that we have our mini-plot of land designated, it's time to unpack the car and set up camp. Fortunately enough, BOTH bikes are still there to remove from the bike rack. After the rack comes off the back of the car we can dig into the trunk and pull out the camping gear. In short order the tent is up and the inflatable mattress is ready to go. I decide to keep as much stuff in the car as possible to keep stuff from getting any more dusty than necessary.

I run into Laraine before too long and exchange salutations and some small talk. There is a check-in that will be happening shortly so I fill up my water bottle to stay hydrated and just hang out around the camp and realize how long it's been since spending more than ten minutes outside of the car.

Walking around I find myself stepping over a heavy gauge cable. I trace it back to a large flat metal box about the size of a small carry on suitcase, elevated off the ground by its integrated thin metal legs and tethered to an industrial strength bio-diesel generator. With other cables snaking off through the camp to RVs I surmise that this is all part of the camp's makeshift electrical grid. Roughing it indeed. I mean you can only pull a few amps of 120 volts AC through this grid instead of the hundreds of amps like at home.

Before too long the check-in starts. They check your name off the list and anyone on the meal plan like I am gets a green plastic wrist band to indicate that they've paid for meals. Meal or plan or not, everyone gets a gift bag with little goodies like a t-shirt, water bottle, and lip balm but by far the most valuable item in the bag is the coveted lanyard with the magical key to the bathrooms on it. I put it around my neck and it will stay there until it's time to leave.

The tent is set up. Bathroom key is secured. Water bottle is filled. No meal being served currently. Fully decompressed from the commute. Time to head out and explore.