Finally, our camp has a permanent name. As the Liminal Lounge, we once again tossed in our own secret 11 herbs and spices into Colonel Harvey's Nevada-fried hootenanny. And we're finally hitting our stride, with a rigorous regimen of dance and pork products. Unfortunately, key personnel Joey and Mattie X, Farai and Richard were MIA owing to work or matrimonial machinations.

And with certain traditions, we're going the extra mile. This year, we broke our record with 4 visits to the Medical Tent. Of course, at least one of those was the inevitable contribution by Lessley, who - with a body mass of actual negative body fat - gets dehydrated when she walks through the baby powder section of Long's Drugs. And this year, she really earned her IV bag, and won the coveted "We're Not Worthy" Trophy by co-riding a mountain bike-built-for-two over the Sierra Nevada Mountain's fire trails to get to the Black Rock Desert by Wednesday.

Sadly, there were few truly mind-boggling installations this year. But David Best's Temple of Forgiveness- like his temples of the last few years - was astonishing. Also, a few of us managed to stumble on thethe Diver, a 3-D strobe-lit zoetrope animation that finally worked by week's end. And I can't get over the amazing 7-Sister's fire sculptures rendered by the talented Flaming Lotus Girls.

As for me, the weird magic of the Playa was never more apparent than with my bicycle saga. To be brief, I left my bike onlocked at the Temple of Venus dance club at 3 AM, and later returned to find it gone. Sadly, the e-tard who assumed my bike was there for his/her immediate gratification never returned it to the scene of the crime. But on my last day, after breaking camp, I visited the Temple of Venus one last time to look for it. Asking the campers there if they'd seen a bike with a devil's mask on the front, I told them the story. After telling me "no," they asked if I wanted one of their's, and gave me an almost brand-new extra bike. Thanks to T.o.V.'s Morgan, a generous man who rocks most zestfully.

With 35,000 people, this was the biggest burn ever. Here's a brief look.

It was a year of challenging weather - very dusty by day and cold at night.

And yet, owing to really great weather the first couple of days, we set up camp fairly quickly. Note the Pleasure Dome in front, and the Primping, Preening, Wardrobe Prep / Extreme Weather Survival Dome in the rear. We are tricked the fuck out.

For Tom, however, the first order of business was finding the right outfit for strenuous labor.

Canadian pal Melanie - from the wiccan Bliss Camp- embraces the biggest cock on the playa.

Our neighbors included Black Rock City Animal Control. They round up the plushies, give them flea baths, and put them up for adoption at various bars around town. They seem nice enough. Thing is, though, that they cranked up Shena Easton's "Morning Train" every day at 8:30 AM.

Next door, we had Starlight Express Camp. They wore their stars everywhere. Even on the Swinger's Lounge nude-only, 50-yard zip slide.

A neighboring camp, on the Esplanade.

Douglas, Matthew and Mrs. Roper were always happy to serve you margaritas.

[NEXT >]