Can it be another year has passed since Liminal Labs last lingered and lounged like a lozenge on the lip of the Black Rock Desert? Must be, because this year - for the first time - I flew to Burning Man from New York City. And I learned that if you can't whimsically toss all kinds of crap into your ride, you must sparsely edit your luggage. Nonetheless, this traveller travels to the Playa with pork butt. So, fewer clothes, less gear, and one extreme cooler packed with Staubitz' finest accompanied me to JFK, where we were separated through the spirit of airline whimsy. And though I fretted through a night in Reno, worrying that the dinner I planned for Thursday night would end up thawed, spoiled and strewn on a tarmac in Cleveland, somehow the Burn smiled upon me. My cooler was routed through Alaska Air, which has so many fishermen among its customers that it routinely throws delayed luggage into a freezer for the night. Thus, with a future of chopped barbecue assured, Morgan and I drove to Black Rock City...

...where, even by the very first day, the clubs were packed with freaks and nudlies.

I put on my OSHA-approved construction footware and began lining my stomach with insulating beer.

This is Bubu, who recently finished a tour with the Peace Corps. Watch him demonstrate his mad lounging skills.

Lounge, lounge, lounge.

So much lounging to do.

Of course, after a long day of reclining in the shade, entertaining visitors, we often left for new adventure...

...like reclining in the shade at Mohammed's, where you can always be assured the martinis are as fresh as the bartenders.

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