Twice the number of installations we saw at last year’s Decom, an explosion of art cars, flamboyant fire, generosity, interactive experiences and deep, rich music.

We loved talking with everyone who stopped to play the van, and everyone we met on walkabouts in this lush, dustless burn in the shadow of downtown Los Angeles.

We chatted with fantastically creative veterans (hi, JB!) and starry-eyed virgins-to-be (Jared! Go get that ticket!).

We marveled at beautiful performances by the Mud People and Burning Opera, gratefully chowed down on Krishna coconuts and danced shamelessly at Disorient, Opulent Temple and the formidable Art Car Bus Stop.

We reveled in our fantastic placement (Space 26) (thanks, Athena, Beth and Deb!), just over the hill from jug-band magnetic Ant Farm, across the way from Family Love Village and within convenient eyeshot and earshot of the excellent music and fire performances on the Scarab Stage. (Wanderlust! Love in the Circus!)

And we saw what began as a little miniburn under the 1st St. bridge 9 years ago bloom into a huge event – long lines out the door, plenty of goggle-eyed non-burners sponging up all that intoxicating culture – that promises to fill every corner of the L.A. State Historic Park at next year’s Decom.

Here are some photos – if you were there, or recognize yourself in any of ‘em, sing out in the comments!

Often, someone starts riffing on what comes out of the speakers, without being aware that a player on the other side of the van is their partner.

Here’s my two cents:

Bullets:

- Eight burns since ’96 (covered it for the L.A. Times back in the day, then fell down the rabbit hole and never looked back)
- Five burns since ’05 with our son (now 11) and daughter (now 10)
- Second year with a major art installation (XyloVan)
- First year with a mutant vehicle (Xylovan–>JANUS)
- Residents of Kidsville
- Virgins hosted – numerous
- Art car passengers transported – too many to count
- Darkwads almost run over – too many to count. You can’t legislate common sense.
- Moop collected – too much to weigh.

Forget it, Jake, it’s Burning Man.

This year was, like all the years before it, the Best Ever, thanks to the massive creativity of the artists, the warmth and intelligence of the great number of burners we shared time with, and hell – the weather was pure butter.

From reading the entire thread, BM2011 also seems to have been the source of a huge amount of glowing compliments, anxious complaints and bitter rants – as it always is …

We hit exodus about an hour after the Temple burn, escaped to 447 two hours later, and vowed to repeat the schedule next year. It beats sweating through 7 hours of pulsing.

Pro tip: Turn off your engine if you’re not moving. You’ll save gas, wear and tear on your car, the environment and your patience.

Regarding kids at Burning Man: To all the kid-haters and the would-be nannies who worry about their precious little sensibilities being ravaged by sex, drugs and rock’n’roll – settle the hell down.

Parents are responsible for their kids’ preparation and their experiences. The parents I know have this well in hand.

The vast majority of BRC’s smutty content and activities flew WAY over our kids’ heads the first two years, and anything that didn’t could be gently explained away as “grownups are weird” or “wow, looks like those people are really drunk.”

We gave them each the actual Birds ‘n’ Bees talk at a good age (I filled my son in atop a ziggurat at 4:30 and Esplanade in ’08) and afterward, we remained open to questions and discussions, and occasionally explained that, well, sometimes grownups do weird things in the name of sex. They get it, and they’ve moved on with that very understanding to enjoy the burn every single time.

They remain inquisitive and wise beyond their years, and after seeing them work (nearly) tirelessly alongside us to build, run and strike our camp and our mutant vehicle, they are the Best Burners Ever, and still declare BRC to be their Favorite Place on Earth.

Maid Marian and Larry Harvey have been on record from even before BM reached the playa as saying that kids and families have a place at Burning Man. Kidsville is now the largest village in BRC, with more than 2000 residents. We are raising all of our kids to be strong, self-reliant, creative, generous and resilient – and good Burners to boot.

Got a problem with ‘em? Just think of them as little shirtcockers and look the other way.

Sound: To the haters of dubstep, sound camps and assholes – “radically inclusive” means you take what you might consider to be the bad with the good. Other people see it completely opposite and think everyone complaining about the noise is too old or lame.

BRC is NOT some precious paradise. It’s a chunk of the human race like any other – just one with the financial and technical wherewithal to assault your senses beyond the point of pain – and sometimes sprinkled with selfish jerks.

Example: I called out (rather gently) to two darkwads who strayed into the path of our vehicle one night (and would have been run over if I hadn’t been stone-cold sober with my foot covering the brakes), “Hey, get some lights on, friends. I can’t see you and I almost ran you down.” Their reply, a shouted “FUCK OFF!!!”

I had to shrug. Maybe they had gotten the message one time too many that night. Maybe next time they’ll at least put on a moop-y glow necklace and avoid being flattened by speeding bicyclists. Maybe they’ll be run over.

You do what you can to help those who need it, try not to infringe on anyone else’s right to have a good time, and pray that the universe will watch over the idiots – or at least that they’ll get a good spanking from Dr. Darwin, rather than a coffin.

Regarding noise camps – If you want to sleep, camp somewhere quiet (Kidsville rules in this regard, as does Hushville). Earplugs are cheap.

Regarding loud mutant vehicles – Welcome to Burning Man, kiddies. Our mutant vehicle had a very soft sound system since the mikes for our xylophones pick up and amplify all the noise around them, we keep it tuned low. A couple of times people ran up and said “Thank you for not playing fucking techno!”

On the other hand I had to give props to two mutant vehicles I saw built on monster-truck chassis – each had massive turbocharged engines, 1000+watt sound systems, roaring propane jets and a bevy of sparkle ponies aboard – and everyone looked like they were enjoying themselves. Just had to plug my ears, turn down our mikes a bit – and smile until they passed.

On Sunday night, we were seated atop our vehicle far back from the Temple burn perimeter, so missed the offending dubstep assault, but it sounds like those involved handled it as best they could.

There’s little to nothing BMORG can do to legislate assholism, any more than they can legislate common sense and respect. We can only work as a community to change behavior that offends all of us, in the best ways we know how.

But I have a few bits of useful feedback for BMORG that I offer humbly here:

- Tickets: Next year’s sales promise to be a chaotic and potentially unfair mosh pit of opportunistic scalping. I think we all hope that we’ll have the same even chance of buying a ticket at face value as every other legitimate Burner – but I think we all realize that unless the BMORG and the community band together to discourage scalping, huge blocks of tickets will be scarfed up very early and resold at a premium, greedy assholes will prosper, and good Burners will be shut out from BM2012.

Any suggestions?

- Exodus: Not everyone can enter or leave in the wee/off hours, and obviously thousands leave at the same time, so multi-hour passage is guaranteed. BMORG – please heed the suggestions above for better staffing on the gates/greeter stations (and everyone else – do volunteer to gate-check and greet – it’s fun and needed) and next time, entrance and exodus may be easier.

- Driving on 447: Everyone, please, for the love of God – SLOW THE FUCK DOWN AND DON’T PASS. You’ll get there. Better to arrive 15 minutes later than hoped than to cause anyone (including yourself) to have a heart attack, roll their vehicle, catch fire, die or all of the above.

Please consider 447 to be part of the playa – with its own rules designed to ensure everyone has a safe/sane burn. BMORG – is there anything you can coordinate with LEOs in Washoe/Pershing/NHP to enforce this?

- Paper waste: Greeters – Please don’t give out booklets to every single burner in a car. Ask how many are needed. We were two adults and a kid at the gate (my wife and son came up later) and I had to gently push back or we would have had two extra and completely useless fistfuls of paper on our hands. One per family is good, one or two per small camp is good, one per virgin is good. Everything else – overkill.

- Cellphone reception: This year’s setup was pretty nice – you can only get good reception later at night towards the edge of camp – enough to let people pass critical messages out to latecomers, but not so much that people are texting each other on the open playa.

- Educating the community – particularly newcomers: Every year, the same gripes about “non-mutated” vehicles from people who don’t realize there are dozens of DPW service vehicles or transports for the disabled that weren’t decorated because DMV realizes their owners have better things to do.

Every year, the same slew of moop, cigarette butts, bottles left in the potties and feathers and sequins in the wind.

And every year, people learn, and BMORG does a great job of educating them via the Survival Guide and JRS. The clueless usually get a clue or two by week’s end, and return to the playa wiser and cooler than before.

Will the population bump to 70,000 wreak some changes and unwanted pressures? Sure.

But in the 15 years I’ve been a citizen, I’ve seen BRC grow in beautiful, sustainable and healthy ways, and I’m not the least bit worried.

Everyone, have faith:- the community will continue to grow, enrich itself with the contributions of new burners and old, and evolve, as it must.

Next year will be the Best Burn Ever.

After building and piloting JANUS at Burning Man 2011 and living to tell the tale (Full build log here) I’ll go out on a limb to say this: Bringing a pre-approved mutant vehicle to the playa for the very first time in your life virtually guarantees that:

• You will work your ass off

• You will develop calluses, cuts, burns, bruises, muscle spasms and contusions in places you never thought possible
• You will lose weight, grow muscle and pick up dangerous new skills (say, plunge-cutting plywood with a power saw just inches from your femoral artery)
• You will empty your wallet far faster than you planned
• You will – during that period – doubt:
  • your mechanical skills
  • the quality of your design
  • the solidity of your construction
  • your ability to finish in time for the Saturday burn, let alone in time to let you enjoy it at all during the week
  • your chances of escaping without a huge mechanical breakdown, catastrophic fire or horrible injury to your passengers, your crew or yourself
  • your ability to even get a grudging nod, much less a license from the mighty Department of Mutant Vehicles once you’re done
  • your sanity
• You will show up on the playa having forgotten several critical tools, parts or methods for making it go
• You will run out of screws, female plugs, butt splices or some other vital, impossible-to-find-on-the-playa supply
• You will – after looking at other brilliant mutant vehicles around you – hate your design
• You will vow never to let your hubris con you into such a foolish and exhausting enterprise again
• You will finish hours – if not days – later than you had planned
• You will make something bigger and more extraordinary in real life than you had even imagined during the design phase
• You will be invited to bribe the DMV inspector – and out of desperation you will hope that your offer of a handmade gift-with-keychain-light is not too paltry when the signs say they clearly favor PBR
• You will be told sniffily, “We’ll let you pass this year, but next year come back with more lights”
• But you WILL get both your day and night licenses
• You will remain completely sober (and swallow your tongue several times at the wheel) during the entire week, not because of the many repeated threats that law enforcement can bust you, confiscate your vehicle, kick you out of the event and send you to court in Reno. No, you’ll avoid any intoxicants – even a sip of beer – because at any second, without warning, deeply wasted Burners will lunge into your path, drive alongside you, climb onto your tailgate, bang on your vehicle, march around without lights directly in front of you, cause you to slam on your brakes and generally do everything suicidally possible within inches of your front bumper to ensure you have a heart attack or three
• You will drive in tense, bitter silence for hours, hating shirt-cockers, sparkle ponies, propane flares, darkwads, moon boots, drum circles, techno, dubstep, neon, mutant vehicles and everything else Burning Man
• You will vow never to do this again – and maybe skip Burning Man for the next nine years because it almost killed you
• You will (however) slowly relax
• You’ll smile – hey, I made it! People seem to be enjoying it! And – despite your charred, curmudgeonly attitude – you’ll start to really enjoy yourself too.
• Burners will come up and interact with your vehicle – climbing happily aboard, playing your instruments, turning your little cranks, begging you to blast your flame effects (if you have ‘em)
• Kids will shout with joy on seeing you
• Grownups will too – or at least they’ll say aloud “WTF is that???” and you won’t mind because at least you made ‘em think
• Other mutant vehicle pilots will honk (or blast) and wave, locking eyes with the look that says “I know what you went through – because I did, too.”
• You will offer rides out to the majestic desolation of the unpopulated, art-free deep playa just because you can
• You will climb onto your vehicle’s roof and enjoy the view, 20 feet off the ground – of your family and crew grooving on the waves of mutant vehicles, Burners, art and wildness surging around you at major burns (the scene at theTrojan Horse burn was particularly great)
• You will happily give tours to total strangers, some of whom will thank you profusely and sincerely for showing them them things they never would have seen on foot or from the saddle of a bike
• You will discover corners of Black Rock City you never knew existed
• You will stand on your roof with family and friends on Burn night and howl with the glee of a 5-year-old and curse with the vigor of a drunken sailor as the Man goes up in a shower of fireworks, gouts of flame, and the boom of green-tinged propane bombs
• You will spend 10 hours breaking down your mutation for transport (unless you were wise and rich enough to dedicate a non-transport vehicle to your project)
• You will drive home wondering what the hell that was all about
• You will immediately begin dreaming of your next design.

Here’s the full build log for the JANUS portion of XyloVan:

• The JANUS concept
• Frame design
• DMV permit granted!
• Roughing out the frame
• Roughing out the framework – the right way
• Roughing out the profile
• How to turn a 985 Ford into a double-faced player piano
• Connecting the dots
• JANUS framework – walkaround video
• How to skin an art car
• Found the cloud deck!
• Dyeing the skin
• Assembling the cloud deck
• Skinning JANUS
• Meat report
• Mad dash to the finish – light bars, sewing, etc.
• Bits and bobs – 3 days till liftoff
• Pro tip

Below are photos of some other mutant vehicles (including the gobsmacking El Pulpo Mecanico, which hands-down WON Burning Man this year). I also posted photos of some of JANUS’ passengers, including the wonderful residents of Kidsville – and random bits of art.

Fifteen years and eight burns after I first tried to explain it, Burning Man still leaves me beggared for words. But building JANUS made me appreciate the worth of keeping my wrenches arrayed by size, making sure I had enough wire, and being deeply grateful for all the good friends who helped make this vehicle happen:

My long-suffering wife Kristina, David (the architect) and Marcelle, who generously donated heavy labor and painted the Janus medallions for front and back, Dave LaF, Alan and John for initial construction logistics; Marcus and Larry for on-playa muscle when I was about to lose it; Mac, Tina, Bernie and everyone at Big Art Labs for tools, welding, moral support and good cheer, and my right-hand kids, Cooper(Biomass) and Miranda (Hitgirl) for showing they know the value of hard work – thanks to all of you for supporting this whacked-out dream.

But I like the immersive feel you get when viewing them on the Web – or on your iOS device – it’s like a window into another world. Click the thumbnails here, then click-drag the images on Occipital’s site. (*hit the back button to return here)

360 Panorama: Self-portrait inside JANUS – Waiting for the Department of Mutant Vehicles to inspect and clear us for nighttime driving.

360 Panorama: JANUS and other vehicles in line in the DMV inspection lanes.

A quiet evening in Center Camp

360 Panorama: JANUS and other mutant vehicles at the Temple of Transition.

Another view of JANUS at the temple with the excellent submarine vehicle (at left)

360 Panorama: The Temple of Transition

360 Panorama: The Kidsville tour circles up between JANUS and the Temple.

360 Panorama: A romantic afternoon

360 Panorama: The Circle of Regional Effigies – wooden structures and sculptures built and then burned at once by 23 regional Burning Man communities from around the world. Our own Los Angeles was represented by SCARAB, a food truck that served snow cones and chips to burners before being burned on Thursday night.

360 Panorama: Before any major burn, mutant vehicles gather on the playa like fishing boats circling a fruitful patch of ocean. Here, JANUS and the submarine join others ringing the site of the Trojan Horse burn.

Thronged by burners and mutant vehicles, the Trojan Horse – all 5,600 pounds of it – goes up in flames.

360 Panorama – a sunny afternoon in Center Camp

360 Panorama – The Man, about to burn.

360 Panorama – the Man burns

360 Panorama – Tearing down JANUS and striking camp – a day-long affair. The work was long and hard (we went from about 10 a.m. to 8 p.m.) but the weather was gentle, and the dust not too bad.

360 Panorama – Exodus. Tens of thousands of vehicles stream towards the exit – basically eight lanes of cars, driving through the dust and the night towards a pinch-point one lane wide that lets them out onto the main road back through Gerlach. Timed right, you can be on the road in 20 minutes. Timed wrong – when most people are leaving – it can stretch to 3 or 4 hours. We stopped in Center Camp to get drinks right after the Temple Burn on Sunday night this year, and so escaped to the road in about 2 hours.

… or this …

… or this …

Thanks to THAT Damned Band, Titanium Sporkestra,
, and all the musicians – trained, wild and accidental – who breathed life into XyloVan when we weren’t around to enjoy. You’re the reason we built it, and you’re welcome to play it any time you like.

XyloVan/JANUS took two and a half sweaty, sometimes lonesome days to build (my deepest thanks to David, Marcelle, Marcus and Larry for pitching in so hard), and once we got our DMV licenses, we had a blast bringing music, mystery and magical rides to the people of Black Rock City.

The city has changed, the culture has changed, and we have changed. Many more thoughts (and photos and video) to follow, but for now, here are some panoramas that show off XyloVan/JANUS in its natural habitat.

Extra pro tip: Don’t forget to strip it before crawling into bed. Messy.

I disassembled all the light arrays from XyloVan 1.0, and I’m reassembling them onto the light bars I made for JANUS. This involves testing all of them, including the flasher circuits …

… and then screwing them down. I’ll wire everything up later today. (It’s stupid-o’clock in the morning right now).

I also cut a stencil so that I can spraypaint warnings (PLEASE DON’T CLIMB HERE!) that discourage people from trying to scramble up onto JANUS’ “shoulders,” which are built to withstand the playa winds and sun, but not a 238-pound Java developer full of Fuzzy Navels and good cheer – let alone a 5-year-old child in a Wolverine costume.

I then cut a frame for the stencil out of an old TV carton and put the whole thing together with Gorilla Tape (accept no substitutes!)

I’ve also been drilling out a few discarded xylophone keys that I plan to mount with the drums that will be installed on the Cloud Deck so that people riding on top will have more instruments to play.

Chugchugchug.