Does your idea of paradise involve pitching a tent for a week in a baking desert inferno at 115 degrees? Want some naked dancing, lots of crafts, no running water, and a giant pagan Wicker Man flambe to keep you company? You’re in luck.
Since 1986, the nation’s bohemian cognoscenti have converged on a remote desert location to pal around with other artistes and have a little hi-concept fun. The Burning Man event is what results; the nation’s only interactive, bring-your-own-survival-gear, art-intensive, de facto be-in that takes place largely outside of prying eyes.
Black Rock Desert, north of Reno, Nevada. High Rollers: landing strip, yes.
“The Body.” And expect to see lots of it.
“Burning Man”? The giant scaffold monster of an idol dominating the skyline, that’s why. You don’t get Nicholas Cage with this version (gratuitous Wicker Man remake reference.
Survival rations: water, food, shelter, clothes, tampons, anything else you need to live.
Via credit card or buy them at the gate.
This is not a spectator event, warns the website. (Oooh, aren’t you deliciously nervous). Commerce-free, you better bring what you need cause you can’t buy anything except coffee and ice unless you make nice with the trippy neighbors. People will dress insanely, mess with your mind, put on plays, twirl fire, engage in mind-altering performance art, you name it. Each encampment is expected to aid the collective metropolis by creating something extraordinary that others can participate in. Bikes are recommended.
When They Burn The Boy Down:
Saturday night. Get naked.