Burning The Man #1

Wherein our protagonist attends his first Burning Man and offers this modest report:

Getting close to the entrance you could see the "playa"; this huge, ancient, alkali lakebed. There was already a biblical-size dust plume reaching about 2000 feet into the sky. Then you entered it and it strengthened. There were white-outs so bad you couldn't see the end of your hood - no exaggeration. It was 95 degrees and if you left your window open, dust would fly in by the handfuls. The cab was trashed already and I wasn't even in yet. If you rolled your window up, the temp. would rise to about 110. If you turned on the AC you would probably ruin it.
Finally, somehow, I found the camp. The very first problem was that my good goggles were packed away because I didn't think I would need them that soon. So, my eyes were filling up with alkali dust. The wind was blowing so hard I couldn't set up the tent or anything because it was like wrestling an octopus. So I ended up standing with my back to the wind for an hour with my eyes and mouth closed thinking what a stupid idea this was. What was I thinking?!!
After awhile it calmed down and I was able to proceed. For the next three days, it was beautiful.

The techno-beat started off in the distance and would remain the entire time like aural wallpaper. Since they weren't too close, it was tolerable. I don't know about anyone else but I didn't dislike it; it was the heartbeat of Burning Man.
As the sun was setting behind the local mountain, the entire camp of 40,000 began to cheer it down. This happened every day we were there. Then you could feel the energy rising all around you. Music intensifying, background noise increasing, people cooking dinner and getting dressed for the evening.

In darkness I rode to the esplanade; the inner avenue of the Black Rock City arc. This where many of the rave sites are and so the beat would change every hundred feet as you rode along. In the dark it was imperative to decorate yourself with lights so as to avoid getting run into. People and bikes had on every imaginable, and many unimaginable, light configurations. Lighted "El Wire" wrapped around themselves in patterns. Some sewn into clothes. Flashing signals, special spoke lights that created patterns as they rode. Hats, masks, body painting, glowing pants, hats, beards, etc.
Art cars or mutant vehicles in shapes you would not have imagined: a thirty foot long Cheshire cat, a twenty foot high duck that was actually a little scary. Motorized couches, picnic table with chairs, a twenty-foot perfectly constructed red phone that was steered from behind the handset.
My jaw dropped about every hundred feet. I saw an organ of fire that was built from metal organ pipes welded together. They were sounded with gas but the gas was on fire. In hell, when they are pulling your skin off with red-hat pliers, this will be the background music - or maybe it's just the doorbell. It sounded much louder in person.

Organ of Fire