The other night I got my first taste of Burning Man as my return flight from Reno to Phoenix was almost entirely made up of hippies, drifters, vagabonds, and other assorted party animals making their way back to civilization after a week of reveling in the Nevada desert. So covered in dirt and filth were these free spirits that the airline made them wrap their luggage in plastic bags before being placed in the overhead bins. If the flights attendants had bigger bags they probably would have tried to wrap up the people as well. On the bright side, at least the plane didn’t smell all that bad, no small feat considering that most of its occupants hadn’t showered in ten days. Or maybe it did. It was hard to tell the difference with everything smelling like reefer.
On the one hand you could say that I’ve had my fill of Burning Man just from this Close Encounter of the Weird Kind. Sitting next to a guy who looks like the Mad Hatter will do that to you. But on the other hand I was left wanting more. Perhaps some of their drugs were rubbing off on me. Or maybe I was just flashing back to earlier in my childhood when I wanted to run away and join a traveling circus, but either way, the longer the flight went on, the more I wanted to join this rag-tag band of misfits in their annual artistic pilgrimage to the land of campfires, bonfires, and crotch fires.
Here’s the rub though: I don’t actually want to go. I wouldn’t want to take off a week of work and spend thousands of dollars just for the right to live in a mobile meth lab in the middle of the Mojave desert while the biggest party of the year rages around me. I’m the kind of guy who stays in on a Saturday night to watch the Matrix, not the kind of guy who attends the rave in Zion. My ear plugs and white noise machine wouldn’t stand a chance against the Steam Punk Army that would undoubtedly assemble during this modern day homage to Woodstock.
Instead I’d like to propose that we create a Burning Man Safari. An opportunity for regular folk, like you and me, who have always wanted to see what all the fuss is about, to pass through this make love not war zone in a safe and pleasant way. An opportunity for people to soak up the culture, to listen to the various musical stylings, to check out all of the larger than life art installations, to take it all in, without having to subject themselves to LSD, STDs, or any other acronyms ending in d.
In order to keep up appearances the jeeps that we would use for this safari could even be decked out to make them look like post-apocalyptic vehicles from Mad Max. The drivers/tour guides could even be Burning Man attendees, looking to make a quick buck to finance their excursions there. Assuming, of course, that anyone is even sober enough to operate a vehicle.
On the surface cramming ten days into one, completely streamlining the process of attending Burning Man, making it so that everyone can attend, seems like a great idea. But perhaps it wouldn’t be. Maybe some of the attendees would be opposed to this invasion of city slickers to their sacred desert land. Thinking that it would somehow pervert the sanctity of this beloved anything goes festival that puts the wild in the Wild West. That it would somehow cheapen the allure of a place that is beloved for its mystique. Charming precisely because it is anything but. However, any doubts I have are quickly erased when I realize that any opposition would likely fade away as soon as the first batch of mushrooms kicks in. After all, it’s kind of hard to hold a grudge when you’re trapped on an existential plane, busily unlocking the secrets of the Universe.
Is a Burning Man Safari the Greatest Idea Ever?
Please, don’t do that. First of all, don’t describe everyone attending such events only basing on your short and tbh shallow meeting with them and on the existing stereotype. Not everyone there are on drugs, not everyone stays all week, not everyone party all the time while being there. Making “safari” for regular people just to see others enjoying the festival? Worst idea ever. It would just make the hole between them even bigger. I can imagine both sides looking at each other and thinking “what animals they are”. If you want to have a “try” of this spirit, come for one day, maybe two. Wander between them, talk to them, don’t artificially separate yourself. You’d be surprised how many of them are just as normal as you.