Friday, August 31th, 2012-
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By Friday, I had officially contracted playa foot, leg, crotch and wrist. My skin was a mixture of crusty and itchy, with a bit of caked and dry added in for good measure. After dabbing myself clean with baby wipes I slathered on globs of body lotion and slept outside -in full respirator and goggles- for 8 whole hours. Every once and a while I opened my eyes just a slit and watched passersby: a naked, winged princess stumbled into a tent, a massive metal bug vehicle clanked toward 6:00. By 4 pm I cracked a few beers and was feeling less of the exhausted yet wired funk that was Burning Man Day 4.
Earlier that morning, while J and I were still in the RV, S scored a mint ride from a kind pilot at the airfield. In return for copies of his aerial photographs S was awarded a seat in a little airplane and the ultimate view of the Playa. I so regret not joining him!
Both J and I took turns making pilgrimages into the center of the Playa, admiring the art and wondering at the diversity of the people. And of course, we stopped for drinks and shots when beckoned. It was an amazingly somber experience to be completely surrounded by others, yet at the same time to be completely alone.
As the sun fell, the wind picked up and massive columns of dust swept over the flat tops of RVs. We ate a quick dinner and set off in search of the burns. The trek was made even more interesting than usual because most of the road signs had been rearranged or removed and visibility was couldn’t have been more than several feet. We stopped to watch the fight action at the Death Guild Thunderdome and the flamethrowing art cars blasting in time to the music.
We saw so many exhibits that night that took were simply breathtaking: the massive EGO word art made out of bronze figurines, a man wearing a full-body light suit, the radio station and so many more BM characters. At the end, J and I climbed aboard a dubstep-blasting rasta boat and danced and danced and danced.