Racing through the desert in a run-down RV [ Artist manager : Mariko Kurose ]

Just the other day, I had a chance to try out a smoke sauna in Estonia. I had arrived at an adorably aged wooden house situated nicely right where the trees begin to clear at the end of a day spent driving through nothing but forest. In addition to the sauna room, there was also a classic Estonian outdoor dining kitchen area with a big pot. Just off the deck extending from the Goemon bath (a large iron kettle-shaped bathtub）was a small spring.

I stripped down and entered the sauna with the old lady who oversees it. She then cleaned my body with white birch leaves, singing softly all the while. I started off sweating slowly at first, but before long perspiration was pouring out of me.

What followed was a repetition of jumping into the spring and reentering the sauna. It grew very dark outside, and the moon started its nightly ascent. I recalled a trip I had taken in California to find a hidden hot spring at Pyramid Lake. 

The quest for the secret hot spring started with four of us who had met at a festival called “Burning Man”. There was Pink, a boy from Maui who wore a camisole, miniskirt, and stiletto heels, all in his namesake color, Mirco, from Italy, Ulala, a New Yorker, and then myself.

 We all piled into Mirco’s battered RV and raced through the desert, eventually arriving at Pyramid Lake, a body of water as quiet and pale as a mirror. We took a morning dip into the lake to clean ourselves up, got a fire going to make some food, then went swimming again. We were so engrossed in the faint beauty of the lake and sky that before we knew it, several days had passed. One night while we were gathered around our bonfire, a policeman came to speak with us during his rounds. After conversing for a time, we asked the officer if he knew of the secret hot spring. He feigned ignorance for a bit, but in the end, our persistence wore him down and he finally taught us the way there. He says “the way”, but we were out in the middle of the desert, so the directions were more like “take a left at the tree”. We decided to give it a shot first thing the next morning. Despite getting lost a few times, we found our destination just before the evening. We might never have done so if we hadn’t passed some hippies who were just making their way home from the spring. 

The hot spring stood alone out in the middle of the wilderness, with nothing but desert to see no matter which way you looked. No other people, or much of anything else for that matter. Just the sky, the barren land, the spring, and us.

I wonder how long we spent there. It was only four. There was no cellular reception, either. We had speakers, food, and drinks, and that was all we needed. The only thing we lacked was a reason to be somewhere else. It was a simple as that.

Eventually, the day arrived when Ulala had to get back to work, and so we, at last, made moves to depart. Had we been there two or three days or a week? Either way, to me it felt like an extremely long time.

Just as time can stretch and contract, so to can people’s minds expand or shrink. They can grow as large as the Earth, or as small as a flea. The fact that this can occur in an instant is so intriguing. A certain scent, color, humidity, or other sensation that can’t quite be put into words can arise out of the blue, transporting me right back to another moment in time from one of my travels. When this happens, an exceptionally tranquil feeling fills my heart. Time freezes while the scenery and vivid textures flood back into my mind as if I was truly there again. And then, the moment quietly expands my mind and vanishes.

Kurose Mariko

A traveler who visits festivals around the world in search of music. Currently studying while working with people who plan interesting things in the music industry. Hooked on hot springs.