GERLACH – Step into the friendly confines of the Miners Club this time of year and you’ll likely

hear the question I was asked this past week.

“You heading to the playa?”

“No,” I replied, “back home from Vya.”

The gregarious woman didn’t flinch at the mention of the ghost town located in northern Washoe County that’s been silent for a century. I concluded she was probably a local.

A character in its own right, Gerlach is in the process of making its annual transition from the diminutive “Center of the Known Universe” to the last best stop on the way to Burning Man.

That didn’t exactly explain the coffee bar featuring chai latte, macchiato and cappuccino drinks, but it was a reminder of changing times. It’s been that way for years around Gerlach, a place known for attracting artists and eccentrics alike.

Long experience and a well-chronicled lack of courage has taught me not to order a chai latte in a rural Nevada bar, so I settled for black coffee. Those not trapped in the past lined up to sample the frothy fare and had no qualms quaffing their favorite brew.

Surely somewhere in Gerlach’s universe, the ghost of town patriarch Bruno Selmi was blushing and wishing he’d thought of this Black Rock barn dance first. Bruno’s Country Club is among the local spots that see their business boom during Burning Man, which returns for its annual arts and cultural experiment under the working theme “Tomorrow is Today.”

As its organizers see it, attracting thousands of revelers to the Black Rock Desert affords a great opportunity to “explore the future and actively shape it through their creative endeavors and collective actions” while using their epiphanies to “create a better world, within the Black Rock City and beyond.”

That may sound more like the essay question on a social studies final exam than a lot of fun kicking around the desert for a week of partying and stargazing with thousands of new friends, but it’s obviously a recipe for success. Creating a better world is admirable, and much preferred to the direction we appear to be heading, but still I say let a playa play.

One of the things I like most about the official worldview of Burning Man is that its organizers actually talk about having one. Boiled down to a fortune cookie, I think it’s enabling “a crucible of creativity, where all are welcome!” That comes straight from the official website.

You may call that a little touchy-feely for your taste. But after watching the National Guard and American soldiers converge on city streets and the nation’s Capital under the false flag of making us safe again, I think it’s refreshing. When masked immigration cops are menacing leaf-blower-wielding lawncare workers, we need as many of “all are welcome” signs as we can get.

Burning Man’s co-founder Larry Harvey managed to reduce the phenomenon to 10 principles, which are also listed on the official website. The short version: radical inclusion, gifting, decommodification, radical self-reliance, radical self-expression, communal effort, civic responsibility, leaving no trace, participation and immediacy.

That qualifies as a lot of radicalism these days, with just a hint of socialism. Given the current political climate, I believe leaving no trace has been replaced by drill baby, drill. But I digress. 

Now that Burning Man is a global news story, and an institution in the greater Gerlach metro area (population 130) increasing numbers of inquiring minds — and by that, I mean reporters and smart aleck columnists — have begun wondering aloud whether it’s lost its bohemian charm. Some claim it has sold out to the man. And by man, I mean anyone out to make a buck, fawning influencers, celebrities and the multibillionaire tech brotherhood.

To that I say, welcome to America.

Among the issues raised about bringing the population of a small city to the Black Rock Desert is ensuring safety, sanitation and traffic control. An eclectic line of vehicles and support trucks was already filling Nevada State Route 447 on the day my wife and I came through. It was like watching a long circus train roll by.

Then there’s the carbon footprint concern. Nothing places a bigger asterisk next to an environmentally conscious image like thousands of cars and recreational vehicles.

The increasing numbers of private jets arriving in time for their owners to slum it with the freestylers are hard to explain, too. Maybe the event’s organizers should change “leave no trace” to “leave no contrail.”

The wonderful rains of 2023 turned the playa into a mud bog that panicked some Burners, but that had to have been a welcomed break from the usual wind-blown grit. It also made headlines. Chris Rock has made me laugh for years, but never harder than when I watched the clip of him fleeing the playa in a pickup.

The event draws its share of protesters, which at least means it hasn’t lost its ability to stir public discourse. The more I learn about Burning Man, the more I appreciate that it still exists in a world parched for compassion and optimism.

As we headed home on 447, the northbound traffic increased. I smiled again at the phenomenon that was beginning to play out once more. People were gleefully driving toward a week of 100-degree heat and dust storms, not to mention potential flash floods and mud bogs. And that doesn’t count the Black Rock’s Mormon cricket migrations.

Welcome to Nevada. It’s not for everyone, but it’s our slice of heaven — even if Vya is more our speed than the playa.

John L. Smith is an author and longtime columnist. He was born in Henderson and his family’s Nevada roots go back to 1881. His stories have appeared in New Lines, Time, Readers Digest, Rolling Stone, The Daily Beast, Reuters and Desert Companion, among others.