The Playa Sand Castle:
Ashland's Entry into Burning Man

by

Lance K. Pugh

Through the sand-driven winds an apparent mirage lurched and groaned across the desolate climes of the Black Rock Desert, destined for the yearly gathering of the playful, peripatetic, tribal, whimsical, hard-partying and sun worshiping known world-wide as Burning Man.

Sand Castle Cruzing the Playa	View from the Upper Deck during Burning Man Race

As the image slowly came into focus, it appeared as a magical, mystical, two-story castle, constructed on, about and above a 1973 motor home. The inside sported a nautical theme: Neptune's Lounge, where thirst could be quenched by the Australian team of pirate bartenders Ellis Cain, Matt Whitt, and Dennis Richardson amidst the flat, featureless "Playa" that stretched as far as the eye could see. At the helm were Garth Sahli and Susan Chester, the latter owning and operating The Black Sheep on Ashland's Plaza. It takes a certain mindset to envision a mobile castle in the desert and, by all accounts, these two have it.

The Upper Deck featured a metal palm tree, created by David Gelfand, which could launch a 20 foot propane flame skyward, this to signal the beginning or ending of certain events, as well as being a whole lot of fun to shoot. A drum set was installed in the stern, available to those who felt a certain tribal beat. The metal trunk of the palm doubled as a dancing pole, around which feline feminine forms slithered as the music marched into the darkness while libations flowed freely in this all-adult grouping. A small dance floor spread out from the pole, allowing movement in the cool evening breeze for those influenced by either the drums or the custom stereo system that covered the castle, whether stationery or flame-throwing down the sand streets in search of the ebbs and flows of a week-long celebration.

Polecats getting ready to pounce	Games, Snacks and Cool Drinks

The Playa Sand Castle was entered through a drawbridge in the rear and driven from the upper deck, throughout Burning Man, using extensions for the accelerator, brake, steering wheel and transmission, This temporary town sports its own DMV inspection station which certified that the Castle was in good mechanical shape and ready to party. Officially recognized as an "Art Vehicle," it could be driven anywhere throughout the event, but mostly was parked at the assigned street address of 3:30 and Pluto, a location that was hard to forget.

Burning Man lies at the intersection of belief and the transcendental. The theme this year was "The Vault of Heaven," referring to the incredible vastness of the cosmos and three basic nagging questions: Where does everything come from? Where does everything go and, within this flux, where do we fit in? From the frolic and hovering Burning man a purchase on reality gains focus: a place between what's real within us and what's real without.

A well-known scientist ... once gave a public lecture on astronomy. ... At the end of the lecture, a little old lady at the back of the room got up and said: "What you have told us is rubbish. The world is really a flat plate supported on the back of a giant tortoise." The scientist gave a superior smile before replying, "What is the tortoise standing on?" "You're very clever, young man, very clever," said the old lady. "But it's turtles all the way down."
--Stephen Hawking

A Clear View of the over the City	Sand Castle Angles into the Party

On the Playa, fun, wonderment and pranks were the order of the day. One evening the castle sputtered to a stop, out of gas, in the middle of an intersection, creating an instant block party to the beat of the upper deck drums. Samantha, a bar tender at the Black Sheep, decided at one point that a Black Rock Ranger was getting out of line, so she had him assume the position and administered some discipline by way of a cat of nine tails that she sported for amusement. The Ranger laughed and the crowd roared and all went their way much better for it. Some weeks later, back in Ashland, Rachael, also a sparkle at The Sheep, feeling deprived for not being able to join the flock in the desert, tried to pull the same stunt on a local police officer on the Plaza during the evening of Pirate's Day, a little-known, but burgeoning piece of lunacy that has served recently as newspaper in the Parrot's cage of Fun. Our First Responder was not amused, his shaved head not yet ready to let any hair down, if only for a moment.

Sometimes you just have to leave Dodge to have any real fun.

Theme camps are the norm at Burning Man, where like-minded pranksters concentrate their talents to produce what usually is termed works of art or sanctuaries of insanity, depending on your point of view. Unlike Ashland, commerce is frowned upon at Burning Man. Only ice is sold for cash, the rest you have to bring yourself. Despite this restriction, hundreds of themed bars are open every night, with the drinks being on the house. This, of course, cranks up the crowd, which moves day and night by bicycle through the many varied streets and camps in this isolated high desert.

There are clearly too many theme/art camps, exhibits, adventures, foils, ruses, romps, bars and waylays to enumerate and describe. The only thing that is clear is that unbridled imagination scampers yearly in this flat vastness only to completely vanish, down to the last toothpick.

This temporary art city in the desert swells to 35,000 denizens, replete with a full city infrastructure: Public Works, Security, Sanitation, DMV, Radio Station, Medics and an Airport. Apart from this solid sense of sanity, the balance is a rapturous riot of cosmic celebration, a week away from the norm and into a world of inspired spontaneity.

Ashland's contingent returned some weeks ago after laying torch, per tradition, to the icon of the event: The Burning Man. As the Man burned, sending cinders towards heaven and possibly for alien observation, the cognoscenti were packing to make an early departure: for it's never too early to hose off and get ready to plan for next year's event. Chugging back to town, the Playa Sand Castle reluctantly discharged the sand-weary, every ready for a hot shower, sound sleep and the next shift at the Black Sheep.