by Robert Topping
Where to begin? It was such a mind-blowing experience in personal survival against the harsh environment and the cushion each one of us has around us. Driving slowly in so as not to kick up too much dust (it was a windless moment), reading the signs like falling down a rabbit hole and meeting a pixie girl at the entrance. Looking for friends in a Cirque Du Soleil set, everyone on stage (and off…), checking the board, finding my way, embracing my fried friends, setting up camp (and next time, damnit, I’m bringing a motor home!), gathering for a meal in Taco Tod’s (Playa Chicken) cramped RV, various stages of undress, getting ready for an evening out, traveling via glitter bike past temporary abodes. How strange we all are…
Next Time: A tribal throbbing intimate gathering of 13 under a canopy at dusk in the cold wind/rain/mud/j-johns, and just hold on ’cause it’s getting too intense to manage but we will. CYC?