I was near the desert when I had titties rubbed up against my face. Disoriented by a mountain range of flesh, I thought I discovered for a second what bliss was. Soon as I parted ways with them, a green elixir was waved in front of me. It was just as intriguing as the skin covered mountain tops; the shiney green bottle, the murky liquid inside of it, the invisible 10 foot worm inside gnawing at the glass wanting to escape. The curiosity was too much to hold back, and unwisely I reached for the bottle, pried it from the hands of its owner and felt the lava poison my throat.
Whatever happened that night will remain unclear, all I could speculate is it involved something called Moonshine. And the events of would bother me even as I waited the 7 hours to get into Black Rock City early Monday morning. Nothing can prepare you for the endless wait, a lifetime in those short hours would drive the sanest man insane and the most insane man into a normal human being. You spend an eternity trying to spot where the music is coming from and why the couple next to you are driving a full sized RV, or why the car ahead of you is bringing a canoe to a desert haven.
After clearing my schizophrenia and falling back into reality, the gates of Black Rock were open to us. Our own personal playground was open to my compatriots and I, and after settling in between a Victorian Mobile Home and a dome provided by NASA, I finally took time to let the dust settle in my cranium and get adjusted to the four thousand feet air.
Well after eating some well deserved human nutrients and drinking enough of Milwaulkee's Worst, I wandered off into ground zero of the city. Engulfed by flame throwers and land boats, I was in awe at the sight. Never had I witnessed a river boat decked with neon gas tubes and 2 tons of speakers travel across the earth as fast as this one did. Or seen an actual moving mechanical spider kick ass and rip flesh apart. Will Smith and the gang from Wild Wild West will hopefully never read this or a lawsuit might come along knocking.
Here I am, a natural city born mogul and raised in the Bay Area. Until then, I hadn't ever been to the desert. I hadn't the faintest clue of what outside the concrete jungle was except for trees and plains. Sure I've been camping a couple of times, but never had I been so cut away from civilization, so engulfed in isolation from the rest of the world. And it blew me away. That monday night, we wandered off into the booming City, half of it covered in night and the rest illuminated by neon brights. As I was told later, the view I was seeing was not even the close to its peak and I should wait until thursday or friday until I let my jaw drop.
After rampaging through the city for liquor on monday night, I ended up getting seperated from the rest of my nomadic group and was lured in by a door with a glowing red light. I stood there for an eternity, contemplating the sight. Was it a door leading to my mind? The gateway to bliss? An intergalactic and transdimensional portal into madness? I stood there, on my brand new beach cruiser, looking at it. A door with red lights on its frame. I cautiously unmounted my bike. I stood there longer, my brain racing. What is it? How did it get here? Was it really just a door? I inched closer. Dude, don't open it. Maybe some asshole will pop out of nowhere and try to scare you. Don't be a pussy, open it!! My brain demanded a beer, and luckily there was one in my had. Drinking the last drops of it, I crushed the can and opened the door.
On the other side of this door was a beautiful sight. I think one that will stay with me until my death, or I see a more beautiful one in the next six months. On the other side, was, absolutely nothing. Darkness. Complete darkness. And off in the distance, beyond the doorway's shadow and into the nothingness, were distant lights, moving like ants on a trail. With the door fully open, and the great beyond inviting me in, I stood there admiring the view. Absolutely nothing. No sirens, buildings, billboards with obnoxious labels, car horns, police helicopters, ambulances or planes. No car alarms existed in this place, or noisy neighbors with Buicks parked all over the street. Just pure void. It felt like arriving back home after a long and exhaustive journey with dire moments. Perhaps my good friend Brian Eno could portray this feeling better than I could, I'm sure he's been there, to that magical place.
It was too much too bear, to open a door and not walk through it. Closing it behind me, my inner being fell at peace. I had crossed the threshold. This was it. This filled in a gap in your inner self that you held for much of your teen and adult life. With a warm smile on my face as I emptied myself of the beer I drank onto the beach, I stood there in harmony. This was it. I stood there for an eternity, in absolute peace.
Of course, I was not alone in my journey and when another confused soul appeared behind me (very stealthly I might add) I realized that his travels, just like mine, must be for him to share alone and only his. Biking back to camp, past The Man and two very inviting Scottish women, I realized there aren't enough words to describe my time in Black Rock. The coming week was, for lack of more descriptive words, eventful.
The communion of man, living together in the desert without the need of money or ambition for a week can teach you the beauty of being Human.To begin describing these events would take an absurd amount of time. From being at a live show during an intense dust storm, to 9 year veteran Burners, to older couples walking around in their birth day clothing, to complete strangers coming together and helpling each other out, I can't figure out how to start on the rest of the days I was there. I've sat here on this computer chair of mine for a long time, and I think I've said what needed to be said. I never did see that door again.