Las Vegas Sun

April 26, 2024

Not a lot of fire at Dark Skies

Wonderboy is lounging in the back of a VW Vanagon.

Save for a few bodies walking across the playa, almost everyone is out of sight, resting. The harsh environment has them waiting for the sun to fall.

Temperatures for Roach Lake, 40 miles southwest of Las Vegas, are expected to reach 101 degrees, then drop to 50.

Newcomers are encouraged to take everything off, starting with their seat belts.

Wonderboy is topless, but wearing jeans. He slinks around the van, then comes out to light a cigarette and answer persistent questions about "bacon."

"You can't have too much bacon," he says. "We love bacon. Bacon does well out in the desert, but don't try to make sense of it."

In the distance we hear the bell ring from the entrance, signaling that another "virgin" at the Dark Skies regional burn has been spanked and is on his or her way into the camp on the dry lake bed.

Wonderboy, a designer from San Francisco, looks into the distant perimeters.

As one of the event's information providers, who misspelled "beacon" on his sign, he discusses bacon and the new fire restrictions: no propane, no fire performers or fire spinning of any kind. A sanctioned burning of the man is scheduled for the next evening, but that's it. Clark County Fire Department pulled the plug, which takes much of the fiery essence out of this event, now in its fifth run .

"We were good to go with fire until Friday," says Cameron Grant, director of operations for Dark Skies, who says that he had to call fire performers at the last minute to cancel and that the group is considering moving the burn to Del Mar dry lake in Lincoln County.

Roach Lake is Bureau of Land Management land, but the Clark County Fire Department took over review of the fire permits this year. Deputy Fire Chief Girard Page says permits were given for fireworks and open flame in assembly areas but not for fire performances because organizers didn't provide information to address safety concerns.

But last Friday, the event's first day, restrictions hadn't completely ruined things. By nightfall, 400 or so campers had settled and replaced their clothes with wigs, costumes, jewelry and glow sticks - or nothing. They greeted fellow burners who attend year-round regional burns and meet annually in Northern Nevada's Black Rock Desert for Burning Man, which began in 1986 and drew nearly 40,000 burners last year.

Here at Roach Lake, monstrous ships sculpted from cars and golf carts mingle with Hula-Hoops, art, theatrics and bad karaoke held in a geodesic dome.

As night falls, headlights continue to appear on the playa. About 1,000 campers were expected by Saturday.

"Between 9 p.m. and 1 a.m. they arrive in droves from Los Angeles," says Athena Demos, a regular at regional burns and Burning Man. At Dark Skies she volunteers and occasionally doubles as an impromptu Sherpa, feeding electrolytes, cherries and wasabi peas to unprepared virgin burners.

"If you need something the playa will provide. We take care of our own and everybody else , for that matter."

Spotting the crescent moon and the nearby "evening star," she likens it to the "Arab flag," then dances around discussing it while Johnny Cash's version of "Hurt" is amplified into the air.

"I would love to do Burning Man in the middle of the Iraqi desert," Demos says.

"Burning Man Baghdad! Shiites, Sunnis and soldiers could come together to party. Because they're having a (lousy) time in the desert right now."

Still musing, Demos adds that there "wouldn't be explosives" unless they were artfully intentional.

At Roach Lake, however, a near flame less weekend was under way.

Some sculptures built to burn won't even be going up. "Without the flame there is nothing," Wonderboy says.

"We don't take down the man and pack it away and bring it back next year. We burn the man."

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