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It's the morning after the morning after the burn. Things are really thinning out here in Black Rock City, there's just a skeleton of yesterday's city left. Last night there was a community potluck dinner under the tent in center camp, and it was a pleasure since there was nary a yahoo to be found. Everyone brought whatever leftover eats they had around, and all chowed. Last night it rained and rained, so my van is filled with pasty mud, and my laptop is not exempted. Everything's a mess, everyone's moving slowly, and one of these days we'll actually be on the road out of here. People are one by one dumping their secret stashes of piss from the cars, so be careful: the playa holds the secrets of a thousand pissjugs. Other than the little puddles, the playa is amazingly clean. People have miraculously left no trace, or at least very little, and the team of people staying behind for cleanup should make easy work of that. As has been pointed out, nothing biodegrades out here, so cleanup is important. Besides, the local township, which gets probably half its annual business in this single week, keeps threatening not to renew the Burning Mann permit if their desert is sullied. But as one local at the local bar put it on our way in, "The desert don't mind". |
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