dumpstarx

I had to return. I heard of some folks (friends of my sister's) that were going. despite, in spite of, spurred on by the weight of developments on my home front, I packed a few bags and caught a ride in a beamer down to Atlanta. There I met the strangers I'd go adventuring with. Three guys and I rented a van, loaded it with gear and headed west. We drove for days. The sun rose and set over mountains, plains and canyons. Dawn on Monday found my feet planted on the death dust of my second home. Black Rock City. This is the temporary autonomous artistic zone that exists in a Nevada desert for a week leading up to the burning of the man. I was there. not the coolest kid on the block and not the lamest...just a lone wanderer lurking in the shadows on the edge of the crowd.