I don’t have to wait to get on the road again. It’s happening today. Right now. For the second year in a row, I’m packed up and loaded into a 15′ box truck, driving with my boyfriend, Gabriel, and this year caravaning with the rest of our camp, heading to Burning Man. My boyfriend’s mom is driving behind us in his 1990 Toyota Previa, with one of his siblings and her husband, and a couple of family friends. They’re all Christian Scientists (not Scientologists–don’t worry it’s one of their top FAQ’s), but besides being a bunch of lovely kooks they’re pretty much like anyone else you’re going to meet on the Playa.

A couple years ago Gabriel got involved helping plan a group camp that was doing the Christiany thing out there, and my religious upbringing and outdoor recreation experience and training were a major contributor in making sure they got their. And had water and a way to get home.
I wrote up a little blurb about my experience last year, but right now I just want to revel in the bliss that is being back on the road again. My hair is purple. The sunrise is beautiful. The truck is creaky. Our internet radio station is thumping: Burn, Burn, Burn. It’s happily calling us home.