BLACK ROCK DESERT, Nev. — Everyone who goes to Burning Man knows a large part of the deep-desert party is pure punishment.카지노사이트
And two Black Rock City events in particular are the bedrocks of that discomfort: playa dust and playa exodus.
But which one is worse?
First, here’s a primer on each for those who could not make it to Burning Man this year and might be wondering just what this dust and exodus is. Those who were there will know these terms well.
Playa Dust: The dried lakebed dust of the playa is an all-infiltrating constant of Burning Man. It’s not dirt. It’s not sand. It is a fine, fine powder that turns skin ghost gray, shades all fabric with a chalky cloudiness. And there is no escaping it, no hiding from it. The only way to deal with that pesky playa dust is to accept it. It will be a permanent presence for the duration of your stay. Oh, and you will take some home with you. Dust storms at Burning Man 2022, according to experienced burners, were the worst in many years. Whiteout conditions were an almost daily occurrence. On the day The Man was to go up in flames, burners spent the day in camp or adventuring through the playa with zero visibility, wondering if the wind would die down to even allow the burning spectacle to happen. In a land where living is hard, playa dust is the main seasoning sprinkled on the Burning Man experience.
Playa exodus: But if there’s a cherry atop the Burning Man experience, it is exodus, the post-burn mass migration of burners toward the exit gate. The leaving of the playa represents the last step toward survival, and for thousands of burners this year, that step took upwards of eight hours to complete. Those dust-fueled whiteout conditions stalled the line of vehicles inching toward the highway, forcing burners eager to get off the playa to sit patiently. But what often happened was they would roll forward several feet, only to come to a dead stop again. That process repeated many times over with long periods of zero movement in between. A lag in accurate information broadcast on Burning Man’s information radio station made it difficult to gauge how long the wait would be. With nowhere to go, burners had to adapt to life in the slow lane — in a hot metal box and under a hard summer sun that pushed temperatures past 100 degrees. You had to wonder: “Is this hell?”
So which was worse? Dust or exodus?바카라사이트
Here’s a comparison of three essential activities burners had to endure while both waiting out dust storms and waiting to exit.
Eating: Consuming food in a dust storm was easy. Preparing it was a different story. Strong winds covered camp kitchens in a cloud of powder, making it difficult to light a stove, let alone keep items from flying away and becoming MOOP. Those desert winds also made it almost impossible to keep playa dust out of your food and drinks. You knew you were at Burning Man when you noticed brown playa sediment at the bottom of your beverage. And there was no doubt you were at Burning Man when you drank it anyway. Dust in your consumables — that’s life on the playa. Waiting in line during exodus, it was easier to eat. Cover inside the vehicle kept the dust — mostly — out of your ramen noodles cup. But of course, the ramen noodles were undercooked because the warm water from your water jug just wasn’t hot enough. The beef jerky and crackers were reliable snacks during the long wait, but that kind of snacking in those conditions makes you wonder: “Am I eating because I’m hungry? Or am I eating because I’m stressed, bored and a little irritated?”
Conclusion: Eating in a dust storm was just as terrible as eating during exodus.
Using the bathroom: The exodus line could be tricky when it came to natural bodily functions. There were “portos” staggered beside the exit lanes, but if you were far enough away, there was a subtle anxiety about the possibility of the line moving as soon as you abandoned your vehicle that kept you from moving at all. The alternative? The bucket, a terribly uncomfortable last resort in the exit lanes. In a dust storm, however, all you needed was a pair of goggles to make the walk to the closest porto without the traffic-induced nerves. Plus, there was comfort in knowing you didn’t have to carry back with you anything requiring a later disposal.
Conclusion: Using the bathroom during exodus was way worse than using the bathroom in a dust storm, because at the end of the day a bucket is not a bathroom.
Waiting: Sitting through a dust storm while in camp had its perks. The biggest one? Solidarity. There is a certain comfort that comes with watching an experienced burner you got to know over ribs and whiskey spring up at the sight of a towering dust devil to batten down his camp. That feeling of “I am not alone” went a long way when conditions got bad. Suffering was easier, it seemed, when that suffering was done together. That sentiment did not exactly translate in the Exodus line. Everyone has a limit, and those limits were tested on the playa road to the highway home. At one point, someone pressed down on his horn in total, cringe-worthy frustration. But more burners joined him in a cacophony of displeasure honks, as if the big city symphony would move the line like some spell. “There’s no need to honk here,” a burner yelled. “This isn’t New York City!” And no one listened. And that is why we can’t have nice things.
Conclusion: Waiting in the exodus line was way worse than waiting out dust storms.
Final results: Playa Dust: 0, Playa exodus: 2, Tie: 1
At Burning Man, playa exodus was far worse than playa dust.온라인카지노