Welcome to Dismal Nevada
Q: What did you do this 4th of July?
A: I watched a town burn to the ground.
My "friend" convinced me to get in the back of a pick-up truck with a slightly less than sober driver under the premise that since the playa was completely flat and nothing existed for miles, there would be no chance of a collision.
While rumbling down the usually flat and empty desert at 30 miles an hour on the back of a pick-up truck, my gluteus maximus came to understand the term Jello-butt. At the same time, desert dust swarmed around us and into our eyes and nostrils.
When the truck mercifully came to a stop, a small town made of painted facades and plywood rose up in front of our dust-filled eyes. In the middle of this impressive construction stood a wooden pole with what appeared to be many large marshmallow-like piñatas. Lucky volunteers were instructed to spin the wheel to choose a number. The corresponding wooden donkey replete with jihad quantities of explosives, was daringly lit and pushed towards the centerpiece.
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