My favorite white-out story is from my second day ever on the Playa.
I had gone to the Artery the day before,
and signed up to go out on deep Playa, and help set up a project.
Alien Semaphore, as it turned out.
I was given directions to the work site, and the next morning
I got myself up at the appropriate time
(with very little sleep) and headed out.
While I was wandering and looking for the crew,
a white-out came up.
It was all new to me, and I soon became completely lost.
I continued to wander around with no clue,
until I stumbled on to a strange scene.
I couldn’t see more than 15′ at the time,
and I came up to a classic white picket fence.
There was a gate in it that led me on a path of white stones,
past a white tree, covered in white leaves.
I came to a door in a small white cottage. There was a white doormat,
and since it had several pairs of boots on it,
I tried the door and it opened.
I was greeted with the sound of voices in the dark hissing,
“shut the door, shut the door!”.
I came into a pitch dark room, and as my eyes slowly grew accustomed
to the dark I was able to see more and more.
A small group was gathered quietly in the room.
It was furnished with an old-fashioned bed, dresser,
and chair, if I recall correctly.
The bed and it’s spread was white, the walls white,
the rug was white, the picture frames on the wall,
and their contents were completely white.
Even the shelf on the wall, and all the books on it, were white.
We all sat quietly, and read from a journal we had found, and added to it.
As others came to the door, and peeked in –
the sliver of light would blind us,
and we all cried, “shut the door!”, in a chorus.
It was a very peaceful, and surreal place to be,
and I enjoyed it very much.
It became a early part of how I would understand the Playa,
and how beautiful serendipity and chaos can be.
When I came out later, the sky had cleared, and I found
my crew immediately.