I'll admit it… when we realized that we lost the keys to the Aaron's truck, there was some panic amidst the remaining Lustmonkeys.

It was the Monday after the burn.

Most the camp was gone. The last person who borrowed the truck (to move sound equipment) was half way to San Diego. The keys were nowhere to be found.

The Black Rock Rangers had the tools to break into a car if we locked the keys INSIDE…but for a lost key, we had to drive to Gerlach and "make some calls." Then we'd have to convince a locksmith in Reno to drive 2 hours into the desert to make a key for us. That sounded expensive.

This crisis was discovered just as Andy's motorhome's departure was about to cut our remaining campers in half We brainstormed as a group. "Hot wire?" "Claim it stolen?"
When the ideas were depleted, the motorhome departed.

At other times in my life, I bet I would have been pissed-off by the situation. I bet my face would broadcast my irk in the form of a furrowed brow.

But I didn't feel that way at all. It felt like this was exactly the way it was supposed to happen.

My motto for the week had been:
"There are no wrong turns at Burning Man…only plans you didn't know you had."