A 60 year-old Virgin Burner's 12 Days on the Playa (2018)
I first heard about Burning Man, in a 1996 issue of Wired Magazine. The sublime art installations, the ideals of "radical self-reliance" and "leave-no-trace", and that some of my closest friends eventually went and returned year after year kept stirring my imagination, and kept pulling me towards the Playa. But, I never could pull the trigger, and just go. Until this year. My ever patient wife Sara, and super-camper daughter Eleanore, even agreed to join me. My loving son Alex, who went last year, agreed to hold down the fort for us and take care of Gatsby. Did my homework, read the survival guide, and went down the Google rabbit-hole studying the types of structures best suited to survive the harsh conditions of the Black Rock Desert. Determined not to be a tourist or a " sparkle pony ", and ignoring the advice of my veteran friends, I rejected the RV rental, and went all-in on building a camp that would comfortably sustain us during the wee...
