We don’t know what you heard but we know what happened. Wind, rain, wind, thunderstorms, wind, rain, sun!
Saturday, about 9 hours before the gate opens, the strongest dust storm any of us had experienced (and we’ve been doing this a while) hit just as camp was looking pretttttttty nice if we do say so ourselves. Initially we got our goggles and masks out and ran around camp securing shelters and checking straps. Then the gusts came and everything disappeared and it became very obvious that we should not be outside. Who knows that is flying through the air. We gathered our campers and sheltered in our storage container. The gusts came and went and at times, as visibility improved a bit, we could make out human forms in the distance. We gathered them too. Six wanderers in all caught off guard by a dust storm that whipped up instantly and ferociously. There was only one thing left to do…drag the drink cooler into the container, and wait.
After the winds subsided (for now) we assessed camp and assessed how nothing would be fixed until the morning. Some neighbors stopped by to check on us and invite us to their dance party…when the playa knocks your camp down it’s best to dance. (and then rebuild it)
So we fixed it and rebuilt it and were feeling prettttttty good about ourselves until the skies darkened and the rains began. We learned SOMETHING from 2023 so gathered all the carpets and soft goods and piled them up where they would be safe from the wet. They were safe and we watched as the playa around us became mud and the prospects of doing anything but keeping the dry parts of camp dry looked dim.
This was the the cycle for another two days but the weather eventually left us alone and we did all the things we go there to do. We theme camped, we wandered, we participated, we danced, we laughed…a lot.
We had Burning Man.
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