Chris Smith: Impressions and tips, from a Burning Man dabbler

Of all the people in the world, some of those who are at this instant the most giddy, trepidatious and simultaneously envied and regarded with pity and revulsion are the ones gearing up for their first Burning Man.

First-timers have read up on this not easily grasped festival on an ancient, alkaline Nevada lakebed and have conferred with Burning Man veterans - legions of whom live in Sonoma County and throughout the North Bay. So they have a notion of what to expect.

But what will it be like, really? Astonishing and enlivening and transforming, or filthy and miserable and bizarre?

I’m no Burning Man authority. I’ve been just three times, most recently in 2012.

But I do have a dusting of reflections and suggestions for you newbies, whom one Burning Man website said are easy to identify when they emerge early on from one of the blocks of Porta-Potties and declare, “That wasn’t so bad.”

THERE IS THIS: Burning Man was a muddled concept to me until my first night on the Playa, which is what everyone calls the vast, flat stretch of desert northeast of Reno on which a temporary city of about 70,000 arises and falls each summer.

The sometimes blinding dust was blowing when my friends and I arrived for the first time in 2009. Even as we occupied a camp space and set up our habitation for the week, we couldn’t see more than maybe 100 feet.

But then, after dark, the wind subsided and the dust settled. Burning Man came into view.

I will tell you I stood in awe, like a kid in a chocolate factory. There was the towering, gloriously illuminated, wooden Burning Man figure, arms raised skyward. And around him, many dozens of great sculptures - lifelike, abstract and unbelievable, a good many of them spewing flame that warmed your face.

Art cars great and small - sailing ships, sea creatures, bugs, indescribable creations - rolled slowly every which way. Tens of thousands of people pedaled lighted, decorated bikes or walked about adorned with glo-lights, many in costumes beyond imagination.

It occurred to me: This is a jubilant, hyper-creative, unique place and in a week we’ll be lucky to scratch the surface.

PLEASE DO: Take more water than you can imagine drinking. Help out with an art project or other volunteer task; there are plenty and they’ll deepen your experience. Wear closed, sturdy shoes; the Playa dust can be nasty on your feet. Catch the sunrise and sunset.

AND DON’T: Repeat the error of thinking that bartering happens out there; the ethic is to bring something - could be gumdrops, a spritz of refreshing water with lemon, handmade jewelry, a manual snow cone maker - for giving freely, with no expectation of return. Don’t take a laser pointer. And don’t go with a load of expectations. It’s best to arrive with an open mind, and let it lead the way.

Chris Smith is at 521-5211 and chris.smith@pressdemocrat.com. On Twitter @CJSPD.