When the people running the Hempseed Pancake camp
were too busy packing to make us some,  a friend and 
I volunteered to make them ourselves using their equipment. 
We ended flipping flapjacks until the batter ran out, feeding
people lured over by the scent.  Everyone had to sing
us a song in exchange for some warm pancakes. Arias, school fighting 
songs, impromptu rap and nursery rhymes entertained us as we manned the 
grill and chopped fruit. It wasn't the most amazing thing
that happened to me at Burning Man but the image of sleepy people singing 
for their breakfast in the cold desert morning still sticks in my mind. 


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