After a couple hour delay in leaving
our now traditional Grass Valley stopover point friend Michael
and I finally reached the Playa about 6 PM opening day, thankfully
with still enough daylight to set up camp. The trip was pleasingly
uneventful, and once again the last tiny town was left behind
and the cars on the road slowed at the improvised special event
exit into the Playa. The line of vehicles to the gate inched along,
giving me a chance to look around and notice the weather was better
than last year on the way in. The first layer of greeters told
us to have our tickets in hand, next we were herded into lines
depending on the size of our vehicles. Several layers of greeters
sorted out the categories of vehicles by size and directed them
to different lanes.
Most vehicle were at least casually searched, primarily
for stowaways but also for obvious weapons and large fireworks.
I was stopped by someone who motioned me forward until my bumper
almost touched him, he had me open my trunk and I got out to watch
what he did. Rather than try to take apart my carefully fitted
layers of tarps, tents, and containers of supplies he reached
in up to his shoulder and apparently groped about whatever hollows
he found, while making good humor of it and watching my reaction.
I stood watching him with mild amusement, trying to remember if
there was anything sharp he might encounter. It was not an intimidating
thing like going through Customs where people enjoy bullying you,
it was more of a humorous encounter for people who had no stowaways,
rifles, or skyrockets.
Finally being waved on, I closed up my trunk, gave
up my ticket to the next greeter which for me a young woman eager
to give good advice. As the larger piece of ticket was returned
to me I told her this was my eighth year and she seemed relieved
to not have to give the introductory course to yet another novice.
She made sure I knew about the advisability carrying a light at
night when walking about. After receiving the map and event literature
I drove ahead past the traditional series of signs bearing scraps
of wisdom, then into the nearest radially placed road and past
the road signs. The concentric streets were labeled this year
after the orbits of the planets. Mercury, Venus Earth , Mars,
Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto were represented,
with the tenth outermost street named after the largest known
Kuiper Belt Object, Sedna.
As always, the design of Black Rock City is a large
thick 'C', tilted NNW, of encampments forming a vast Tent City.
All is symmetrical around the Man, this year located at 40 degrees
45' 17.1" North, 119 degrees,14' 11.1" West. From here
concentric arcs and radiating lines are scribed upon the desert
by the lack of structures rather than by any kind of prepared
roads. Water trucks constantly kept these roads watered down and
dust to a minimum. We set up our tents, with the entrances facing
north, with a large plastic tarp staked down between the cars
to provide a non playa 'courtyard'. The location of the camping
site was 40 degrees 45 ' 42.6" N, 119 degrees 14' 40.2"
W.
I led
the search for a camping site, initially turning left at Jupiter
and trying to end up nearest to where I knew the Bok Globule dome
would be, off center from the Man-Center Camp axis toward the
direction. I found refreshingly little claimed empty territory
compared to last year. People were building in most fenced off
regions. Just as the Sun set behind the mountains we settled at
the Jupiter-Saturn block, at the 9:00-9:30 location.
Not long after we were secured the wind picked up,
first in intermittent breezes one hardly noticed than in snappy
gusts arriving in increasing episodes. The playa
surface had been rained on earlier in the month, resulting
in a loose fluffy crust which crumbled into dust when disturbed.
A little of the ground appeared still dark with moisture but this
quickly faded except on the continually sprayed roads. People
who had been there awhile told of terrible white out conditions
a couple days previously. 
By
9 PM I was grateful not to be trying to set up my tent under current
conditions! At nightfall I noticed there were many lights already
in place, but parts of the horizon were blocked by dense walls
of dust being driven along by the winds. The sound of flapping
fabric and wind being sliced into by varieties of obstacles filled
the night.
As I took a look around in a later calmer interval it became obvious
that there was an apparent building frenzy from the first moment,
so that at least a third of the inner city appeared to be in place
on opening night. This stage was generally reached days later
in earlier years. While wandering about a young Israeli man gave
me a necklace with a nicely enameled metal eye-hand image, which
he told me to wear for luck. I feel it is in ones interests to
accept good luck when offered and I gratefully wore it except
one day, which of course was the day I suffered some annoying
reverses. The Moonlight was the brightest it would be at the event,
however it was too windy for me to casually decide to walk great
distances. The tent rippled in the wind as I fell asleep.
Tuesday started out with a loud generator
roaring about 4 meters (15 feet) from my tent, which fortunately
was muffled into only a minor annoyance by my earplugs. I later
visited my neighbor and diplomatically asked him to use the generator
only after noon, and he graciously agreed. Thereafter I never
heard his particularly loud generator in the mornings. Tuesday
was a good day to begin exploring even though the city is traditionally
'finished' later in the week. A number of projects were still
being built well after the event opened, including the finishing
touches on the Man's pedestal. Considering the atrocious weather
conditions people had to work in each finished project represented
the conclusion of a titanic struggle.
This year the event theme was 'The vault Of Heaven',
with numerous references to space such as rockets, Saturns, stars
and psychedelia displayed in numerous variations on camps and
in some Art Cars. The amount of major art projects seemed reduced
from previous years although later reflection indicated they were
more spread out than before. A short distance away at 'Jupiter'
street a 25 foot tall pyramidal framework was being covered with
a thick silver mylar sheeting which I learned could be bought
by the roll in gardening supply stores. Their silver pyramid became
the closest major landmark one could use on the way to o my camp.
The demographics of the attendees appeared similar to that seen
in previous years. Most were youngish, in their 20's and 30's,
with a generous sprinkling of older people (including older than
me) but from what I saw very few children this year. The police
seemed to be keeping a low profile, even more so than last year.
Certainly the undercover efforts undoubtedly in progress were
intended to be inconspicuous. I saw air conditioned BLM vehicles,
their grim faced occupants squinting at the people outside with
the appearance of sadistic prison guards searching for victims.
The weather made itself a topic of conversation wherever I went,
with tales of 'white out' conditions a couple days earlier circulating.
As the hours passed whipping gusts tore across the region to near
crisis levels. Raindrops evidently carried from miles away brought
small points of coolness to dry sun baked skin. Tents were literally
pushed to their limits and scraps of trash bounced by them along
the ground. As masses of dust glided through our region and buffeted
nearby structures I started making sure things like lawn chairs
and garbage bags wouldn't fly from my camp. Major dust clouds
seemed from my perspective to consistently gather toward the direction
of the Center Camp complex. Although fearsome conditions were
obviously being experienced not far away my location remained
relatively untouched by the dust storms. 
The silver mylar covering I had applied to my tent the previous
evening was already tearing. I tried to keep up with the new rips
forming and spreading in the jerky gusts, using plastic brown
tape to reattach opposing parts of the torn mylar. As the wind
intensified I played a grim game of 'catch up' repairing tears
and trying to anticipate where new ones might form. Exasperated,
I unpacked one of the several clean sheets I had brought and using
some clamps attached the sheet edges to the tent poles so as to
cover the South side of the tent, from which the wind consistently
came.
Sunset took place behind the nearby mountains
overlooked by a few dissolving puffy clouds. A general 'yipping'
imitating wolf and coyote howls rose from no particular direction
as people reacted to something widely seen, the indirect golden
glow of the bright Moon extending from behind the distant eastern
mountains. Bright yellow specks then peeked from behind a mountain
which quickly merged into the round edge of the nearly full Moon
slowly rising into the windy night. Clouds stretched across the
sky, hiding the Moon and adding their etherial glowing beauty
to the surrounding spectacle.
The chilly wind tore across the dark playa, sending dark walls
of dust aloft which often hid large portions of the Tent City
lights. Sometimes in calmer intervals the dust would hang suspended
in a sharply bounded layer perhaps 200 feet high, the interior
volume glowing softly in the colors of the brighter lights imbedded
within. The wind noisily fluttered against my ears and the airborne
dust made me resort to my rubber industrial mask more than once
that night. The cold gusts continued much of the night, and I
retreated to my camp for a meal and rest. Each night was very
cold, obliging me to stuff one of my spare sheets around the opening
of my sleeping bag around me to form a 'plug' allowing my body
heat to accumulate around me. The cold persisted in my mylar insulated
tent until nearly noon the next day.
