There are a few things I want to write about concerning the crazy weekend I had last weekend. I’m going to put them into a few different posts here, in no particular order other than the way they came out of my head into my notebook.
Onward:
Unpacking after a trip is usually a marginally entertaining affair at best. In this case, after driving across three states (ok, across one, halfway through another and about 10 miles of the first), partying my butt off with a thousand of my closest friends, seeing things that I can;t put into words and then driving home with a sleeping friend in the car and deep, dark techno on the speakers, I find unpacking to be a bit of an even in and of itself.
I find myself listening to a mix from a good friend of mine that was especially tailored to get ready for the desert party season and pulling things out of my bags that probably shouldn’t be there, and experiencing things that I shouldn’t be experiencing.
A list for you:
- Dirt. Or rather; dust. The dirt where we were camped is dirt only in name. When I think of dirt I thin k of dark, healthy stuff that my mom grew roses in or that I always seem to get stuck to some part of my clothing when dressed up. This stuff is a fine, Talc-like dust that permeates everything it comes into contact with. Nevermind that I still had dust from last year in one of my bags, every single thing I pull out of these bags and tent-sacks is covered with a fine, static-charged layer that wont come off under any but the most direct application of force.
- Clothes. Mine stink. It rained, was sunny, humid and dry, hot and cold at the same time sometimes out there by the Arrowrock res. Indeed, my body went through so many fluctuations of temperature my sweat glands didn’t even know what to do with themselves. Add to that the sweet smell of said dust, the burny smell of repeated bonfires, the grody smell of close contact with people who have been going through the same ordeals as I, and that scent released by tents and tents alone and you can imagine what the clothes coming out of my bag smell like. Also: socks. gross. (I want to take the time to point out that my spellchecker does not recognize the words burny or grody to be parts of the enlish language. It is wrong.)
- Cigarette butts. They are everywhere. In pockets bags, bottles…. It seems as if these nefarious little packages of used-tobacco got peeved at the prospect of being left to (possibly) bio-degrade in Idaho and jumped into whatever transportation vessel they could find and hitched a ride home with me.
- Wires. Only a DJ would bring this many god-damn wires to the desert to go camping. srsly.
Other random things found while unpacking:
- 11mm socket
- 3 headphone adapters (I showed up with one)
- glow in the dark junk of several lengths, widths and sizes.
Anyway, the unpacking of this trip would tell someone who witnesses the slow progression of strange revealing itself from my luggage that this trip was anything but an ordinary trip to the woods, and it is serving as a reminder to me of the amazing time I shared with some amazing people.
Except for Joe.
One of those headphone adapters is mine. FECK!