How to Pack for Burning Man in One Day

I'd known about Burning Man for a long time. Several years running, I'd taken part in side events: our camp built an art sauna out in the desert. But that particular year I wasn't planning to go anywhere: my wife and I, with our newborn son, were living a quiet life in a cozy house outside Buenos Aires, running a business, enjoying the calm.

And then, out of nowhere, a message in a friends' chat: someone selling Burning Man tickets for the day after tomorrow. I stare at the screen, realize a chance like this might not come again, and, naturally, book three plane tickets for that very evening.

Wait, what? We're flying in 4 hours? — my wife asked.

Then again, this wasn't our first spontaneous trip, and she agreed fast. We packed a small suitcase each, threw in our favorite burner costumes (you should always know where your burner costume is), and headed to the airport. Evening Buenos Aires flashed past the taxi windows, we barely made the flight, sprinted through security, collapsed into our seats, and only then did I let out an astonished breath: we were actually flying to Burning Man.

On the plane I opened a friend's list — the legendary "things you absolutely must bring" list. About a hundred items, some of them bizarre. Nasal spray. Dust masks. A bicycle. I scrolled through it and realized: not a single one of these things was in our suitcase. And it was too late to do anything about it.

We landed. Rented a jeep, grabbed coffee by the San Francisco bridge, and headed straight to Walmart.

An hour in, I was hungry. Two hours in, I wanted a divorce. Three hours in, a call came from the desert: "Hey, since you're already there, mind grabbing another twenty bikes for the camp?" Five hours in, our son spiked a fever, and it became clear I'd be heading into the desert alone that day.

We barely managed to cram everything into the car. Made a stop in a McDonald's parking lot to unpack the boxes and ditch the excess packaging — there are no trash cans in the desert. I left my wife and son at the hotel and drove through the gate right at midnight. From that moment began an adventure I'll never forget.

Now, some advice for anyone who wants to try this kind of madness — but do it right. Preparing for a spontaneous Burning Man requires a completely different approach. You need:

– a remote assistant

– a friend in San Francisco

Step-by-step plan:

1. Buy a plane ticket.

2. Have your assistant order all hundred items from the list on Amazon Prime, shipped to your friend's address.

3. Fly to America, and the gear is already waiting for you in the garage. Pack it up in a couple of hours, and off to the desert. That's it, you're golden.

See you on the playa this year?

P.S. Bicycles in supermarkets still give me a twitch. And yes, this was 2023 — the very year the entire desert flooded two days after I arrived. But that's a whole other story.