Note* This post is part of a series detailing my recent participation in Burning Man 2016. I'd like to warn the reader that I'm writing these for personal use and the details noted are likely biased, inaccurate, and increasingly full of profanity as the days go by. Names may have been changed.
I arrive in San Francisco near midnight; flying in from the east coast takes a lot of the day and I'm pretty tired when I arrive. In the first of many Uber vs Lyft engagements, I grab an Uber from SFO. The driver is pleasant (they all were) but I get some odd bites on my leg as I'm riding. I finally arrive at my host's house, and in a wonderful representation of the rest of my time here, he's super welcoming and I get settled on his couch and go to sleep.
The next morning I wake up and decide to putter around San Fran. I examine the bites on my leg and briefly hope I haven't brought fleas into my new friend's house. I'm about to spend the next week+ with twenty people that I don't actually know, and I would hate to start out as being the person who brought fleas.
San Fransisco is pretty cool. There are neat buildings coupled with filthy sections that smell like urine. I walk around, I catch up with an old friend in the area. I post some pictures on Facebook and then am reminded of another great friend in the area when she replies to one of my pictures with a "Are you in SF?!??"
I am a bad friend who can't remember where people live. We make plans to hang out after Burning Man. Eventually I start meeting the people I'm about to spend my transformative radical days with with we start packing up the supplies in our RV caravan.
They are welcoming and funny and cool. I may be slightly intimidated and its too late for anything to stop me. I am going to Burning Man.