Christine Bee
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“While it may seem small, the ripple effects of small things is extraordinary.” – Matt Bevin

Burning Man 2015

9/20/2015

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Inspired by some wonderful pictures of art 
in the desert and reading about different people's
Burning Man experiences I really wanted to go.
When I found out a friend already went and 
wanted to go again, I knew I would go.

I was anxious tapping the ticket button on wonky wi fi in
a cheap hotel in Vegas when the tickets went on sale
in February. Waiting in queue watching the bar go from 45 
minutes to 6 minutes and back to 50 minutes. Painful.
But a couple of month later I received 2 shiny
tickets and a fireball in the mail. I would definitely go. Yeah.

I asked all my good friends (the extra fun ones) if they would 
like to come along, but timing, life and other challenges hindered them.
I considered taking my husband, but he was just mildly enthusiastic
about camping in the desert in summer as he hates hot temperatures and 
my plan was he would take care of our kids,
after a friend offered to watch them for the week but then fell
down her stairs and ended up in a nursing home all summer instead.

Then August came and we went on our big family road trip to
beautiful mountain ranges, waterfalls, rivers, ink pots, wildlife.
I still wasn't sure who to go to BM with a week before and considered selling 
my extra ticket. I just needed to find someone to help me drive
our '83 Vanagon back home for 14 hours by the end of the week. 

We made our way down from Jasper all the way to Nevada
for my Burning Man visit. When we arrived in Klamath Falls we 
checked the weather report and found out the daily forecast was way
below 100 for the entire week, so I told my husband we all should go.
My kids loved going to the Regional Burning Man and were thrilled to 
hear they could come along after all.
He was still meh until he found a great hat for himself at Goodwill.
And a full body bacon costume for the 9 year old. He also got a
construction worker outfit and shaved his head. It was on.

Went to Walmart for some boots, bandanas, camp food, a supply tent,
cooling stuff, lotion, walkie talkies, and more stuff. Draining.
The next day we stocked up on water and organized our many many bags, ziplocs
and containers for the 
desert in a nice little hotel with private hot springs in Paradise Valley
just 40 minutes from BRC. The room was perfect and we spent hours soaking 
in the hot tub. Taking in the beautiful valley. Heaven. We didn't want to leave.

The next day we packed up, and in no time arrived at the gate.
The greeters were a little stiff and not as bearly and huggy as
the awesome dude at the Regional but we got ice cream and the 
kids got super excited. We made it to Kidsville, found a nice
spot, set up camp, had tuna tacos and popcorn for dinner,
removed about 40 thorns from our bike tires and enjoyed a good
day.

At night we were really surprised how quiet the camp was.
Totally different from the regional where we slept to a
blasting bass til 5 am.

Tuesday we went out to explore. S was a 
little freaked out by a swarm of about 10 
bee people dancing around her in circles buzzing.
A friendly lady at the Hulahoop Camp invited 
her in to calm down and make her own 
customized hulahoop. We lost our boys
but knew they would have a good time 
nevertheless. We made some new friends, saw 
some cool art, S adopted a painting, found 2 
little matching bracelets in a princess tent, 
one to give her new little friend, one to keep,
chatted a bit with the peeps at UH5. S was
very happy, all smiley and cheerful. Made me happy.

We prepared some food for the Taco Potluck at 
Kidsville and prepared to go on a Playa boat ride
on the Monaco to the Planetarium right after.
Cruising on the Monaco over the Playa was 
pure magic. Everyone was so happy. All the 
kids had a blast. The sun just went down and 
all the art lite up. A PB&J cart pulled up in the middle
of the desert to serve us a late evening snack.
A guy climbed up the Monaco and told the kids
about rocks and gifted them little meteorites. 
It was like a dream and 
I felt complete fulfilled
and almost floating at the peak of 
this moment.

I was so happy I brought my 
family with me on this
incredible adventure. Happy we would have something
to remember and share.

After our cruise I biked like a maniac to meet up with my 
friend on time at a bar that did not exist and ended 
up exploring art and music by myself for a bit instead.
I felt lonely and accomplished, adventurous and 
vulnerable, intimidated by all the mind blowing creations 
and grateful to be there totally in the moment, a little pissed 
that things didn't work out as planned,
but also happy they didn't and I got unexpected time for myself,
which is rare and most needed, 
time to explore on my own time,  in my own pace 
just as I had imagined all these months before.

Wednesday morning I was woken softly by my family 
preparing breakfast outside our supply tent I slept 
in. I opened my eyes but couldn't see. Panic 
overcame me. I barely made it to the Port-A-Potty.
I felt awful. Sweaty. Stinky. Sick.

I then spent the next hours between 2 camping chairs
trying to get comfortable. Unsuccessful.
Also trying not to throw up the little rest of liquid I 
had in me while my very understanding husband
took the kids out to give me some rest.

The sun was burning down hot on the 
sides of the canopy I was under. The wind was playing 
with the tarp.  Up and down constantly.
The tarp my dear husband put on the side to
protect me from the sun.
The dust blew over and under me and 
by midday I had another panic attack that 
this whole environment might not be safe for 
us, my family. I had a hard time breathing.
I felt we need to leave immediately. After 
some more time exposed to the elements, 
barely able to move or see, I moved inside 
our bus to get a break from the dust but 
then had to deal with the heat that built up 
inside. Hanging on to the magic cooling 
towel, throwing up water in a ziploc bag
(leave no trace!). I was really done. This wasn't 
fun. Battling the elements. Battling my own body.

By the end of the afternoon my sight came back.
Also, perfect husband came back and 
I told him I was done and asked him if he would 
mind leaving today. He said he really enjoys himself 
and could imagine staying some more days but 
also doesn't mind if we leave. The only 
problem, S was on a Art Car with her little 
friend and we would have to wait for her. 
The Art Car did not come back after an hour, 
and not after two and another panic attack 
hit me. Something bad might have happened to her.
I am usually a very practical, reasonable person,
but something switched over night and I was
super anxious. 

Then the Art Car finally came back to 
Kidsville and we told S we would have to leave and 
she started crying really hard. It did not 
make sense for her at all. She was in her 
magic kingdom. With her new friends. Where 
everyone was great and open and giving. She 
was home. She did not want to leave. I felt terrible.

We put her in her car seat in the fully 
packed van and searched for the exit road. 
Another stormy dust storm just started and 
we could not see much at all. I felt sorry I took
S away from her magic. I could not say proper
goodbyes to my friend either.

When we hit the paved road I felt a huge relieve but 
also pain and regret and guild and disbelieve. 
This adventure would be over way to soon.
Like someone woke me up from a dream.

All the anticipation. All the planning.
All the money. All the gifts. All the things that 
weren't explored yet. I also felt great love for my
husband who is clearly the greatest guy and
the easiest person to get along with.

The past 18 hours where really intense for me.
So many feelings. So many impressions. 
It clearly was a cabinet of mirrors that 
opened and closed for me. I still couldn't 
really grasp what happened to me between 
taking in all the greatness of the Playa one moment
and waking up in a tent blind and sick the next.

Freak Show. Illusion.

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