Weird-o-nomics [Updates]

The Atlantic has a long story “The Wonderful, Weird Economy of Burning Man”. They highlight the annual event’s impact on the surrounding area.

In recent years, the airport has taken to displaying Burning Man-style art and offering a welcome table to festival attendees. Once, the airport held a celebratory parade throughout the terminals, complete with small art cars and performers.

“Every single seat we have coming into this airport the weekend before will be filled and every single seat we have leaving on the departure weekend will be filled,” Kulpin says. He estimates that the airport reaps $10 million a year from Burning Man-bound flyers.

…Similarly lively scenes unfold elsewhere in Reno, and everywhere along the route to Burning Man’s ephemeral “Black Rock City”: lines of filled-to-the-brim cars tangle around gas stations, grocery stores are emptied of their bottled water, and parking lot marketplaces pop up to hawk duct tape, hats, and other gear in high demand.

These pit stops, hotel stays and last-minute purchases equal $35 million spent by Burning Man participants—“Burners,” for the uninitiated—in Nevada each year. Sixty-six percent of respondents in the 2013 Burning Man census (yes, it has a census) reported spending more than $250 in the state on their way to and from the event. Eighteen percent spent more than $1,000…“This event has a huge, month-long, positive impact on our local economy,” says John Slaughter, county manager for Washoe, which includes everything from Reno to the closest towns to the event, the 200-person-each desert settlements of Gerlach and Empire. “Our stores, restaurants, gas stations, and car washes see an incredible influx of traffic, providing a great boost to the Northern Nevada economy.”

Larry Harvey, CPO (Chief Philosophy Officer) says:

Burning Man is like a big family picnic. Would you sell things to one another at a family picnic? No, you’d share things…

larry bunniesThe curious fact that a lot of money goes into creating a week that is free of money is not lost on Harvey. But those who peg this as a contradiction, he says, misunderstand the intent of the experiment.

“People get confused sometimes,” says Harvey, who unleashed Burning Man on the world with a foretelling bonfire at San Francisco’s Baker Beach in 1986. “They say that because we have a principle of decommodification, that we’re against money. But no, it’s not really about money. It would be absurd if we said we repudiated money. In order to assemble a city, we have to use market economics.” 

So, what IS the intent of the experiment? To learn more about market economics? Or to use market economics, like crowd-sourcing, and peoples’ innate desire to contribute to their community, in order to redistribute money from the Burners to the owners?

“People give because they identify with Burning Man, with our city, with our civic life,” he says. “The idea of giving something to the citizens of Black Rock City has enormous appeal to them because it enhances their sense of who they are, and magnifies their sense of being. That’s a spiritual reward.”

He says gifting—defined as the act of giving without the expectation of anything in return—alters the notion of value.  

“What counts is the connection, not the commodity,” Harvey says.

If it’s an experiment in giving, you’d think after 30 years BMOrg would have learned to be better at giving. In fact the new Burning Man Project appears to be worse at that (6% giving), than their previously very disappointing Black Rock Arts Foundation (25% giving).

If spiritual reward is the intent of the experiment, then why have the ticketing system? Why not just sell tickets, and make participation the spiritual reward? Making people wait in STEP for months, then at the last minute deciding to sell thousands of tickets in a lottery instead of to the queue, is not nurturing to peoples’ spirits.

Is it an experiment in morality?

painting by Todd Berman

painting by Todd Berman

As Burning Man culture and ethos seep out into what the community refers to as the “default world,” can a gifting economy survive the transfer?

“The term ‘gift economy’ is and isn’t an oxymoron. Certainly, the world couldn’t be run through a gift economy,” Harvey says.

“It doesn’t actually generate wealth, the vast majority of which comes from outside Burning Man in the form of campers, tents, generators, and loin cloths,” he writes.

“Nobody makes it to and from Burning Man without either a day job or the [labors] of people who have day jobs,” he goes on. “We’re nowhere close to describing, exhibiting, or participating in an ‘economy’ that truly relies on gifting. … What we do have is a compelling gift ‘culture’—and it matters.”

It matters, says Harvey, because it has potential to provide a meaningful counterpoint to the “default world’s” system.

“That spirit, if spread in the world and widely adopted, would condition how people, as consumers in the marketplace, behave,” Harvey says. “Whereas if all of your self worth and esteem is invested in how much you consume, how many likes you get, or other quantifiable measures, the desire to simply possess things trumps our ability or capability to make moral connections with people around us. There should be room in the world for both systems to flourish. If they did, they would inform one another.”

Perhaps someone should inform the Nevada authorities who think Burning Man is not a suitable event for children, that actually this is a moral experiment. We’re making room in the world for more authentic moral connections: with nudity, drugs, polyamory, and dubstep. We give more to art, than your local church gives to the needy. Therefore our experiment proves the superior morality of our shirt-cockers and Critical Tits.

The Atlantic featured the Generator in Reno, which is funded to the tune of $330,000 a year – we understand, almost entirely by a wealthy private donor.

Crowdsourcing effectively removes the power from large money groups to decide what gets made and what doesn’t,” says Matt Schultz, the artist behind several behemoth Burning Man pieces, of the crowd-funding phenomenon. “It enables the power of individuals to decide. It allows us to find the resources we need to make something amazing. It democratizes the act of production.”

Schultz and his team, the Pier Group, first made waves at Burning Man with a 300-foot-long wooden pier-to-nowhere in 2011 that cost $12,500 to build. They returned with the pier in 2012—this time with a life-size, $64,000 Spanish galleon sinking at the end of it. They outdid themselves once again this year, both in size, scope, budget and fundraising abilities: The group’s 72-foot-tall wooden sculpture, called Embrace, has been, perhaps, the most buzzed-about piece in the lead-up to this year’s festival. Picture two entwined figures proportional to the Statue of Liberty bursting, mid-waist from the ground.

The sculpture, which took shape in a Sparks, Nevada, warehouse with the help of around 200 volunteers, had a budget of $210,000. Its 140,000 pounds of wood, alone, required more than $70,000, says Schultz.

…The hope at The Generator is, Schultz says, at “to refine the economic principles of what a gift economy is and what a decommodified, year-round space is.”

There are various challenges with this. Everything is easier when there’s an expiration date, for example.  

“At Burning Man, your social interactions are for a week and you go home and reset,” he says. “There aren’t as many social repercussions. If you make your camp neighbor mad, they are only mad for a week. That’s been a challenge in bringing the principles to the real world.”

Unattainable as a true gifting economy might be, Schultz, like Harvey, believes it’s a custom worth incorporating into existing practices.

“We’re trying to find a way to make capitalism more equitable,” Schultz says. “Instead of saying one system is bad, or another is bad, we’re finding ways to make it function for more people.”

Burning Man’s economic system makes capitalism function for more people. Umm, how, exactly? By burning statues in the desert? By sending threatening legal letters to anyone trying to make money off the Burner ecosystem? By telling people who spend their own money on art cars, that their vehicle is now a “public conveyance” and they must drive randoms around or they risk being deported? By putting all the rights to monetize photos and videos in the hands of a small, secretive private company, that shares not a single cent with the artists?

There must be something I am missing about this “new” economy. Either that or the artists involved are missing the point: they exist purely on the largesse of people so wealthy that they can just give their money away for the sake of week-long temporary art. Even if the extent of your giving for the entire week was only $20, that’s more than 99% of society are handing out to people sleeping in the streets or giving to wildlife habitat preservation. The cause you are supporting with a gift at Burning Man is decadence and self-indulgence, not alleviating the suffering of others.

Larry reveals some of their “plan for a century” thinking:

“Right now we’re thinking we could go to 100,000 if logistics pan out”, Harvey says. “When people say ‘What if we get too big?’ I ask them, ‘[Too big] for what?’ They are worried we’ll become inauthentic. Because in their experience, when something gets bigger and bigger and bigger, it is alienated from its audience. But that’s if it’s just an item for consumption. They’re afraid it will be denatured by size. But it’s not about size. It’s not a quantitative problem. It’s a qualitative question.”

woodstock today“I hope that I can leave this world knowing that the event in the desert isn’t the lynchpin and that, if it were removed, it would falter,” Harvey says. “My biggest fear is that [the event] would be the be all and end all. We are racing to make it otherwise. It is going to be Rome to the empire, as it were—the great capital city for some time to come. But we can already see [a life outside of it] in these larger regional events.”

It is through this dissemination that Burning Man’s economic principles could take root.

“We don’t think the world can be Woodstock,” he says. “Who’d think the world could be a perpetual carnival? But we do think that the world could rediscover values that used to be automatically produced by culture but aren’t anymore because culture is subject to the commodification in our world. Everything is sold back to us, targeted to demographics. What we have to do is make progress in the quality of connection between people, not the quantity of consumption.” 

That’s why BMOrg has to make the party bigger. To improve the quality of connection between the 40% Virgins their bizarre and convoluted ticketing system seems to throw up every year, and the 30% of their crowd who’ve been more than twice. Because everybody says “Burning Man sucked when it was smaller”.

Gift me your money, and I’ll tell you that you’re making the world a better place.

[Update: 8/18/14] The Reno-Gazette Journal has also done some number crunching on what Burning Man means to the local economy.

Last year, nearly 70,000 people traveled into Nevada for Burning Man. Throughout Reno and Fernley, burners could be found shopping in grocery and retail stores, frequenting restaurants and buying supplies before their weeklong stay in the Black Rock Desert.

According to the Burning Man organization, the annual event brings in tens of thousands of people and millions of dollars to Northern Nevada, with 52,000 people and an estimated $44 million in economic impact in 2012, and more than 68,000 people and an estimated $55 million in 2013.

The organization says it spends more than $5 million annually in Nevada on production and planning, law enforcement, emergency services, construction materials, toilets, labor and supplies, and on business trips throughout the year.

Burning Man also reports the organization donated more than $585,000 from ice sales to charities and organizations in Northern Nevada, including nearly $66,000 in 2012 to Pershing County charities, including Pershing General Hospital, Marzen House Museum, Lovelock Food Bank, Safe Haven Rescue Zoo and the Chamber of Commerce.

…Bonnenfant said the center has taken the Reno-Sparks Convention and Visitor Authority figures on visitors and their spending and estimated what Burning Man participants’ spending would average.

If the RSCVA estimates a visitor spends $85 per day in food and drink, he said he would estimate Burning Man participants are spending $50 a day based on the remote desert location of the event.

He said it is unknown how many Burning Man attendees stay at commercial lodging, or for how long, after the event.

It’s these gaps in the data that make it hard to calculate what that total impact is on the region, he said.

Bonnenfant reports that one slice of usable data within the 2011 Burning Man survey is that 21 percent of attendees arrived by airplane.

He said 21 percent of 2011’s population of 53,963 would equal 11,332 visitors to the area. Multiply that by an estimated $400 spent in food and drink, and that would equal $4.5 million in impact just for that slice of burners.

There are caveats to the estimated spending because not all participants stop in Nevada to buy food or lodging. And while many are buying gas within the state, most of the return to Nevada is via gas taxes which are applied to state roads and road construction and the rest of the profits would go to corporate owners.

…”Our community went from, ‘What is that going on in the desert?’ to embracing the concept of being the base camp of Burning Man — where people stop, shop, eat and play — and incorporating it as part of what we are,” Kazmierski said. “It’s a fundamental change as Burning Man has more and more of an influence on our community.”

Kazmierski said people are noticing a change in Reno when they visit. He has had executives tell him they are amazed at the differences in Reno’s culture and growth. The traffic that migrates through Reno during Burning Man gives business leaders a chance to see where Reno is heading and what the city has to offer.

…Fernley Mayor LeRoy Goodman said that throughout the years, Fernley has watched Burning Man grow from a few thousand to 60,000 people and with it a major economic spike in the community’s restaurants and stores two weeks before and after.

“It’s about a month that our community is benefiting economically,” he said. “My view is positive. They spend money here — Indian taco and water stands — I think people in the community look forward to it. The week after Labor Day, they look forward to seeing people. They stop in the same places, eat here and get cleaned up, and I think that’s neat.”

He said the influx of tens of thousands of burners through Reno and Fernley is not only good for the economy, it’s good exposure to what the region’s business and communities have to offer.

“When you’re coming from all over the world to Reno, you can take advantage of the eclectic businesses. Burner week is becoming like the Kentucky Derby and party for a few days in Reno — even if people aren’t going to Burning Man,” he said. “We are getting more and more traffic through here — spending the night in our hotels and shopping and participating in things — and it’s good for Fernley and all of Western Nevada.”

The details of the charity donation from the ice sales is an update from previous reports. If true, the $585,000 cash paid to Nevada charities is up substantially from $159,850 in 2010 which was split with many California based charities. It confirms our calculation that ice sales were above $1 million.

Satanists With Guns

Satanists? Maybe Burners are Satanists? Before you jump to the comments to say “I’m sick of all the negativity, why is this blog hating on Burning Man, etc. etc.”…please understand that it’s not me saying that, dear readers – it’s Burning Man founder Michael Mikel, aka Danger Ranger. I’m just reporting on what is being discussed about this culture on the Internet. Read on…

Earlier this year we published a story The Natives Are Restless, exploring the idea that not everyone in Northern Nevada thinks that Burning Man is an amazing expression of humanity that is making the world a better place. The next day, the Reno Gazette Journal responded with a front-page story on how good Burning Man is.

Has something happened since then, up there in the Biggest Little City in the World? Perhaps Burning Man Arts lack of enthusiasm for funding a permanent BELIEVE installation?

Hot on the heels of this week’s news item blaming Burning Man for an uptick in bike thefts, now the RGJ have this feature story: “Burning Man – When Cultures Collide”, about the people of Gerlach and the surrounding area, and what they think of the whole thing. It seems even long-time Burner locals have had enough of rude behavior, public urination, and waste dumping on the highway.

MORE THAN 20 YEARS AGO, A GROUP OF SAN FRANCISCANS TRAVELED TO NEVADA’S BLACK ROCK DESERT TO HOLD THE FIRST BURNING MAN. AS THE EVENT GREW EACH YEAR, SO DID THE OPINIONS OF RURAL NEVADANS AS A CLASH BEGAN BETWEEN BURNER CULTURE AND SMALL-TOWN COMMUNITIES.

Gerlach: Ground zero

‘WE DIDN’T WANT THEM HERE IN THE BEGINNING, AND WE DON’T WANT THEM HERE NOW’

For 24 years, people drawn from all over the world have set up camp in the dust of the Black Rock Desert for the annual art and counterculture event Burning Man.

As burners swarmed in from all directions, the locals have watched with a mix of wonder, dismay, happiness, shock and, sometimes, disgust.

“When we first came out to the desert, we came through Gerlach and the locals would see all these characters with tattoos, purple hair and piercings everywhere, going to burn this wooden man in the desert, and the first thing they thought is, ‘They’re a bunch of Satanists,’ ” said Michael Mikel, one of the three original founders of Burning Man.

From its introduction in 1990, when Mikel and a small group of San Franciscans hauled a wooden man to the desert to burn, to the first sold-out event in 2011, to today, when nearly 70,000 people are expected to arrive starting Aug. 25, Burning Man has left its imprint on the surrounding communities.

To this day, those communities are not always comfortable with the influx of outsiders who freely express themselves through art, performance, costume and revelry.

That clash of cultures started where it all began: outside the Black Rock in the small town of Gerlach.

In the first years of Burning Man participants often brought out guns, blew up propane tanks and had a drive-by shooting range. Guns were no longer allowed at the event once it grew into the thousands.

Mikel said the San Francisco group and the rural Nevadans didn’t mix at first. But shared interests helped bridge cultural differences.

“We had guns, and we would have shooting events and invite the locals,” Mikel said. “Nevada is a frontier, and when we invited them to go shooting, they would have a lot of fun and think, ‘Maybe they’re Satanists; but they are Satanists with guns, so they’re OK.

“We established common ground through that particular cultural sameness.”

horned creature two-gunsThousands of burners drive through Gerlach, population 120, on their way to the desert. Throughout the years, its citizens began to realize that, not only was the event not going away, it was growing. Fast. By 2013, Burning Man had grown from a few hundred people to more than 69,000.

“We didn’t want them here in the beginning, and we don’t want them here now,” said Cindy Carter, a 40-year resident of Gerlach. “But, they keep coming.”

Unlike many of her disapproving neighbors, Carter herself is a burner —she hasn’t missed a burn since the first year. But the event has put a strain on the community, she said.

“Gerlach kinda freaked out,” Carter said. “When I was working at the Empire Store, it was fun in the beginning. But when you’ve got lines wrapped around every aisle in the store, everyone screaming to get out, and asking for the bathroom or water, or can they get a shower, you had no voice by the end of the day.”

In 2000, after nearly three decades at the market just south of Gerlach, she called it quits.

The exodus after the event lasts for four days, and people strew garbage, including tents and camping materials, furniture and even art cars along the highway from the edge of Black Rock Desert to Reno.

“There are a lot of very rude people,” she said. “Gerlach is this laid back, friendly little town; we get along with everybody. But when it gets like this, Gerlach people get angry, too. It gets all backed up and there’s nowhere to use a bathroom, so they will pee in your yard.

“It’s quite a shock for Gerlach.”

Remember, Burners: when you go on this secular pilgrimage, you are not just radically expressing your Self. You are also an ambassador for our whole community. If you were lucky enough to get a ticket this year, don’t spoil it for the rest of us by pissing off (or on!) the locals.

If you don’t like this story, and think it is an unfair portrayal of our culture, then do your bit to help: Leave No Trace, and educate others who don’t get it. Try to lead by example, instead of BTT threats of violence or “I’ll tell on you” based on perceived violations of the Tin Principles. The idea that “mining creates more waste than Burning Man” is not a justification for Burners dumping their trash along the road on the way home.

Here’s the rest of the feature from the Reno Gazette-Journal:

Community friction escalates

‘THE TOWN NOW ACCEPTS BURNING MAN MORE THAN BURNING MAN ACCEPTS THE TOWN’

Twenty years ago, one of the original burners settled in Gerlach and opened the Black Rock Saloon.

“In the beginning, they weren’t sure,” Michael “Flash” Hopkins said of the residents. “It was a little scary for them, I’ll admit — why not? You see a guy like me heading to town, saying, ‘I might just live here.’ “

But after the neighboring Empire mine shut in 2010, taking with it a good bit of the population, making a living got even harder in Gerlach.

“The town now accepts Burning Man more than Burning Man accepts the town, if you want to know the truth,” Hopkins said.

“You can’t fight it — it’s here,” he said. “It’s that monster that comes walking through.”

Hopkins recalled the early days, when burners had the freedom to do just about whatever they wanted — including lining up propane tanks and shooting them with AK-47s and racing across the dry lakebed.

“At one point when we first got here, there was a definite clash, but the town was wilder then,” Hopkins said. “It’s mellowed out now, and people here are pretty happy.

“There are a few curmudgeons around town who really don’t like it, but it literally only lasts a few weeks — the bulk of the people are only here for a week or two weeks at the most.”

Carter shook her head.

“Gerlach accepts them, but they’re not happy with them,” she said. “It’s been 25 years. We tried fighting them off at the beginning. We all said, ‘No, no, no,’ and we were promised it wasn’t going to go more than 50,000 (people),” she said. “Well, now we’re past 60,000. There needs to be a limit on it. It used to be fun.”

Gerlach tried fighting Hopkins off at the beginning, too.

“I’ve been shot, stabbed and run over, but I’m still here,” Hopkins said. “It was very rough out here at first. … The cowboys would come into town and fight.”

One night, an employee Hopkins had fired took a couple of shots at him with a .38, hitting him in the leg.

He crawled into a bar and yelled, “Boys, some chick just shot me. Get me some whiskey.”

“I took a shot of Jack Daniels, hit the pool table and fell on the floor,” he said. Someone went to get the sheriff, but he wouldn’t come.

“He said, ‘It’s my day off,'” Hopkins said. “He always told me one day I’d get shot in this town.” 

 

Burner sprawl

‘PEOPLE WATCH FOR THREE OR FOUR HOURS AND THINK, “AH, SO THIS IS BURNING MAN”‘

It’s not uncommon for rural Nevadans in Fernley and Lovelock to sit in parking lots near Interstate 80 as Burning Man gets underway. 

It’s a popular pastime — watching the cars arrive, sporting bright colors and designs, with people meandering around in costumes and fur as they finalize shopping before heading for the desert.

Erika Wesnousky of Reno’s Controlled Burn recently learned of this activity as she prepared to bring a Compression Fire and Art Festival to outlying towns in Nevada.

“People watch for three or four hours and think, ‘Ah, so this is Burning Man,’ ” Wesnousky said. “They have seen a slice that they think might represent Burning Man, but I would say that seeing something like a Compression event gives them a much better idea.”

For the past seven years, Compression has been part of July’s art and music festival, Artown, bringing fire spinning, music, art cars and costumes to downtown Reno in the spirit of Burning Man culture.

This year, she wanted to share the event with Nevada’s rural communities as part of the Nevada 150 Sesquicentennial celebrations. She also received funding from art organizations to support it.

“We tried to engage 10 counties in Nevada, but only got four confirmed, so we began setting up performances for Lovelock, Fernley, Austin and Reno,” she said. “We knew there were burners living in Lovelock, and it seemed like things had started to settle there — we wanted to do it there as sort of a healing (after years of legal and cultural struggles between the county and Burning Man).”

Wesnousky traveled to Lovelock to begin the process of bringing the event there and said she was surprised by the reaction she received.

“I discovered a negative community mindset about what I wanted to bring to town and was surprised to discover it was seen as a bad influence for Lovelock,” Wesnousky said.

She said she had to go to three city council meetings and one Pershing County Commission meeting to discuss the safety, content and influence Compression would have on the community.

“I think there is a little bit of what went on in Reno 10 to 15 years ago when people were closeted burners. It wasn’t mainstream enough for them to be proud that they attended or contributed or were willing to admit to it,” Wesnousky said. “There are great people in the Lovelock community who are burners, have art cars, invest themselves thoroughly. You wouldn’t give up on the support of those people because of the naysayers.”

She said she explained it was a festival with fire performance, flame effects and a fire garden, and other members of the burner community could bring out their art cars and playa projects.

“I wanted to say, ‘No this isn’t Burning Man; this is just a community-driven arts festival, and we’ll help you develop it and hopefully it could become an annual event,’ but I wasn’t allowed to talk during the meetings; I had to listen,” Wesnousky said.

During one of the city council meetings on May 6, the minutes stated several community members stood up to voice their opposition, citing their reluctance to allow Burning Man values to be introduced to the community.

Wesnousky said that while there were several people who stood up in favor of the event, it was 15-year-old student Steven Goldsworthy who voiced his experience with the event.

He told the council he had twice attended Reno’s Compression event and had not seen anything worse than what he has seen in his local high school.

“People spoke for three minutes, and I listened to them say I was going to bring a terrible experience into town and expose their children to the worst elements of society. I was a danger to the community,” Wesnousky said.

“We didn’t need permission to do this event, but it was more a courtesy to share it with them and that we wanted to bring it to the town,” Wesnousky said. “It’s not that we wanted to come in and make a Burning Man event — this is not a Burning Man event — it is something that we do; it’s part of Artown every year, it’s successful, and we wanted to offer that to their community. Whatever they bring — artists, vendors, performers — makes the festival.”

A week after Lovelock’s Compression event on June 20, Controlled Burn headed to Fernley.

In Fernley, the Compression event partnered with the Multicultural Festival, which featured dance and food from Native Americans, as well as community crafters, artisans, food vendors and music.

Cynthia Brown, a Fernley resident since 2003, came to the festival to support her boyfriend’s music. She said she wanted to see the Compression event after he performed because it sounded fun.

She also thought her 9-year-old niece, Adrianna, would enjoy it.

“I’ve never been to Burning man, but I think it’s good for the town. It draws people into the businesses in the community, and I know it definitely helps out our sales and businesses around here,” Brown said.

“The young people seem to be cool with it and enjoy seeing the people come through and talking to some of the people. You’ve got your older and more conservative group that are like, ‘Get these people out of here. They stink; they’re weird.’ And then there are more open-minded, probably more liberal-type people who are open to them coming through and having a good time on their way to go spend a week doing their thing.”

“I do not like Burning Man,” Adrianna said.

Brown asked, “How do you know? We’ve never been there.”

“Because Mommy says they worship the devil and I worship the Lord Jesus Christ,” she said.

Brown said, “I think she’s aware of the drug use out there and the hippie love.”

“When I’m aware of my surroundings and my surroundings are gross, I do not like it,” Adrianna said.

Betsy Workman traveled from Lovelock for the Fernley Compression event. Workman said she thought the event was awesome and worth the trip.

“It’s a little bigger than what it was in Lovelock because it’s such a small town. I loved the show in Lovelock and that’s what made me want to come to Fernley to see this one. I’ve been telling everyone to come and see it,” she said.

Workman said she didn’t think the event promoted anything negative and felt that it brings people together.

“This is community. It gets people out of the house,” Workman said. “All of this is exciting to me; everyone can’t afford to go to Burning Man — this is free.

“I think it’s awesome because there’s a lot of people who can’t go (to Burning Man) to see all the different neat artwork they do, and now that they are bringing them to different towns, people can.”

Kristi Walls of Carson City said she thought the event inspires other people to do more community-focused events.

“I think anybody who puts on a show and invites people down — I don’t care if it’s flipping pancakes — I think it’s a good thing,” Walls said. “We ended up coming down to watch the show and ended up spending a little bit of money, which is a good thing for the community.”

#1 Crime of the Summer: and Burning Man is an Accessory

bike moop…so says the Reno Gazette Journal, anyway. Bike theft has become a huge problem in Reno this summer, and Burning Man is getting blamed. Bike theft on the Playa has been a big problem for the last few years, too – even Burning Man acknowledges that. Lock up your bikes, people! Just because there is a culture of Gifting, doesn’t mean that there isn’t also a growing culture of Taking and Entitlement. Bike MOOP is also a growing problem, too, with thousands of bikes being abandoned on the Playa every year.

From the RGJ:


 

Police: Reno bike thefts up; suspected Burning Man link

Bike theft is the No. 1 property crime in Reno’s downtown corridor this summer, police say — and Burning Man could be an accessory.

bike-theftSummer temperatures and more people on bikes play a factor in the theft increase, Reno police Sgt. Dan Thompson said. But he said police sources also indicate there could be a link to Burning Man.

“It’s a timing thing,” Thompson said. “The only time we receive this volume each year is (the weeks) prior to the event,” which begins Aug. 25 and lasts for one week.

Bicycling is the main source of transportation at the event, held on the playa about 100 miles north of Reno.

Kevin Campbell, a Reno Bike Project mechanic, said the number of fliers for stolen bikes at the Reno Bike Project have outpaced those in previous years by a significant amount.

“There’s been a large string of bike thefts this year,” Campbell said. “It is actually really bad.”

Campbell attributed the rise in bike theft to more people riding bikes, whether as a result of the city’s emerging bike culture or favorable weather conditions, he said.

Campbell denied seeing a link between Burning Man and bike theft in Reno, and Burning Man spokesman Jim Graham agreed.

“This is the first I’ve heard of it,” Graham said.

YellowBikesThe Yellow Bike Program, a community bike program providing free-rental use, has been in existence for years to prevent bike theft at Burning Man, and the festival acknowledges the crime is an issue on the playa.

To catch bike thieves in Reno, the downtown enforcement team plants high-end bikes in the downtown district under officer surveillance.

“In year’s past, it has been successful,” Thompson said.

However, no one has taken the bait this year, Thompson said.

Using the right lock, most often a U-lock mounted to a sturdy base, ideally a bike rack, is the best way to combat theft, Campbell and Thompson said.

“Always lock your bike,” Campbell said. “Even if you are just running quickly inside a store, you don’t want to leave the bike unlocked. It takes less than 30 seconds to steal a bike.”

Thompson said people should also keep a record of their bike’s serial number.