In today’s #PlayaTales, our hero talks about a very different second year and bringing his two (technically three) newbies…
After my first Burn, I really wanted a good second Burn. Fraggle & I had been through a lot in that year. We went and did multiple regional events that weren’t Las Vegas. We bounded with other regions and were welcomed into their fold, as much as someone can who doesn’t live in an adjacent zip code can. We were building our own tribe by finding two impressionable newbies who were all about Burning Man for totally different reasons.
Spanks was a desert rat who had been raised in Las Vegas, so he was jaded about anything you could throw at him. He was a Boy Scout type and a tinkerer. He was fascinated by Burning Man. We met at work and he quickly became enamored with going. PRLC (short for Puerto Rican Love Child) was a rave kid who looked at Burning Man like it was the Mecca of EDM. I worked with him as well, and when I mentioned Burning Man during a training class – he was all over me. Spanks & PRLC were also roommates eventually – very “Odd Couple” from those two.
We were getting everything prepared for Burning Man 2008. Tickets were acquired, RV rented, Spanks had engineered shade and other things everyone would need after reading the Survival Guide a hundred times, and everything looked good.
Six weeks before we were leaving – we had a bit of unexpected news: Fraggle was pregnant.
Can’t get pregnant naturally my ass!
We talked to her doctors who said that she was out of the danger zone of losing the fetus. As long as she didn’t push herself and took care of her body, the baby should be just fine. Since those weren’t things she was capable of doing, we had a long talk about NOT going. We were Burners. This little thing growing inside her was a THIRD GENERATION BURNER. She promised to not overmedicate herself or drink and have a totally sober Burn. And I had our two virgins/soon-to-be-uncles to help me keep an eye on her.
Departure day was soon upon us. We had loaded all our stuff into the RV, then drove it to the boys apartment. I pulled up and saw Spanks outside with all his gear – smoking a cigarette with a look that caused me to begin the freaking out. “What’s wrong?” I asked as I got out of the RV.
“He isn’t done packing,” was the reply. I didn’t wait for any more conversation. I walked inside the apartment to PRLC’s room and found his sitting on the bed with piles of costumes, clothing, and pretty much everything else he owned. I looked at him. “Really?!” I said.
“I don’t know what to do?” was the weak reply he gave.
I took several deep breaths, instructed him to do the same, and began to do his packing he told me was done last night. I threw things into bins, keeping a rudimentary count of how much I was packing. As I finished one tote, I slapped the lid on it, shoved it into his arms and told him to take it outside. By the time he returned, I had packed another tote and told him that he needed to buy underwear and socks as I found NONE! Little did I realize I was getting my first taste of parenting.
The delay set us back only an hour. We were in the RV and on the road as quick as possible. Everyone was happy – even the pregnant chick who was crammed in an RV with three guys and her mother. I did most of the driving through Spanks did take some of the more boring parts.
It was close to midnight when we got to the Fernly Walmart – that last hope that they have the thing that you forgot to pack. Socks & undies weren’t PRLC’s style and I reminded him that he could go commando and do to his dick what going barefoot will do to his feet. He was okay with “tighty whiteys”. We were back in the RV and headed to Black Rock City with 30,000 other people who couldn’t wait to get in.
The sun was just staring to come over the horizon when we finally got through the Gate & Greeters. We found a spot out in the boonies (6:30 & G when that was the boonies). We unloaded stuff and I hit the wall. I needed to take a nap. And so I attempted to do just that. Except within minutes of me laying down, a whiteout came on. Whiteouts are exactly what they sound like – wind blows and you can’t see anything. Not uncommon on Black Rock. What was uncommon was this one lasted for over 12 hours! Shoved into a small RV with two guys, a pregnant wife, and a mother-in-law who was already on everyone’s last nerve.
SPOILER: We all survived through the night and the next morning everyone went to work setting up camp.