Monday, August 27th:

As I crawl out of my tent this morning, the weather is calm and beautiful. No wind or dust in the air. But with the clarity, a sense of inevitable afternoon heat is already building. This is going to be a *very hot* day ...With all the new arrivals since last night, the noise and activity level has risen to new heights too, and the city seems truly alive for the first time - like an ant hill whose inhabitants have quite suddenly returned from a long absence abroad...

I contemplate going to Center Camp for coffee, but before I can gather myself enough to make the trek, my lovely neighbor Ben shows up with a pot of coffee. Did I mention that the playa has a random and magical way of providing just what you want or need at any given moment?

Renee, Ben, Dave and myself decide to go explore the playa a bit with our bikes. At least one rumor has come true: the playa is *soft* this year. Large sand pits dot the normally solid lake bed. If you bike into one a bit too fast, you have to be prepared to either face-plant or get stuck in the sand, having to get off your bike and walk out of the pit. It makes biking on the playa hugely more hazardous than in years past - and it's certainly a big consideration in relation to biking at night or in an ... ehmmm ... let's call it "inebriated state" ...



After getting stuck a few times, Renee however consults her extensive mountain biking knowledge and teaches me to shift my weight away from my handlebars when biking into a pit, and to go *slow*... Indeed, this makes rolling through the sand a lot easier - and it turns out to be the possibly single-most useful bit of playa info someone has passed on to me this year.



Ben - after getting inspired and taking welding classes following his first burn - is proudly showing off his awesome metal art installation on the playa, right on the way from Center Camp to the Man. This is what I love about Burning Man. It sparks creativity in people in the most unusual ways ...



We stop to do the Hokey-Pokey with about 20 other people (who knew shaking your bootie, your knee, your hips and your elbow could be this much fun?). And Renee and I check in at Media Mecca to get our camera and media tags - where I meet Brad, an Associated Press photographer from Carson City. Little do I know that in the coming days, Brad will teach me a valuable lesson about what it means to be a working photographer on the playa ...

Back at camp, we discover that a slew of new neighbors have arrived. There are Derek and Morgan, a lovely couple from LA, who I supply with just the right tools to get their bikes comfortable. And then there are Cy and Jen, friends from Sidney, Australia, camping with Mike and Rosie, a young couple from Manchester, England. It takes me a while, but eventually I figure out that Mike and Cy are actually brothers - and Burning Man is their excuse to meet, hang out, and have a good time. All of our neighbors have turned out to be utterly awesome, and I'm grateful beyond words for that...



The rising full moon signals that this is going to be no ordinary night. As a matter of fact, it's the night of the full lunar eclipse. Renee and I decide to start off the evening with a visit to Spike's Vampire Bar - the playa's most deliciously dark, subversive and seductive club. I've waited a full year to be able to walk into that dimly-lit half-dome again, order a cup of "blood" at the bar, plant myself in a plastic chair, put my platform boots up on a coffin and kick back, while listening to Depeche Mode, Kidney Thieves, Massive Attack and other tunes. Awesome.

Aside from the cool atmosphere and the gorgeous ladies, one of Spike's attractions is that one always connects with the most interesting people. I meet EvilTed, Spike staffer and special effects guy from LA (he contributed the awesome, life-like 'playa virgin', suspended over the bar and source of all 'blood'), and Chris, one of Spike's founders. We have so much fun, that as 2.30am rolls around, Renee and I have to forcefully tear ourselves away and walk out onto the darkened playa, so as not to miss the lunar eclipse.

We sit on the Flaming Lotus Girls stage and watch the moon turn from its full silver disc, to something that looks like it had a bite taken out of, to a mysterious red. And no sooner than the eclipse is complete, quiet cries start to ripple through the crowd - "Look! The Man is ON FIRE!" Yeah. Uh-huh. Right. Suuuuure. The Man is on fire. Another playa joke. Right?

But no. Really. He is on fire! He's fucking *burning*! And it's only *Monday*!

HOLY CRAP.

Renee and I follow the crowd by briskly walking over to the Man. Now there are lights, sirens, fire engines. He burns very slowly, almost as if he's resisting. We stand in silent wonder amidst the few hundred onlookers. It's 3am - most people are either asleep or at the Eclipse Party, far away at the trash fence, so the crowd is relatively small. Large beams of water extinguish the fire, dumping huge amounts of water on him. He almost looks as if he's drowning. But really - what's the point? He was born to burn ...

People whisper: "How could this happen? Sabotage? A prank by The Org? An electrical fire, perhaps?" Contrary to most news reports though, I don't hear a single "Let him burn!" cry (but... don't we already know we can't trust the mainstream media?) I curse my decision momentarily not to have brought my camera. But - oh, well. So it goes...

And such is Burning Man. Always full of surprises. ADD is in the very dust you breath.