Burning heimer!

When apocalyptic rain struck Black Rock City, social media swelled with schadenfreude. TikTok, it turns out, had only half the story. Far from being marooned, Burning Man billionaires danced on the lip of the desert, feasting on French Laundry quality tuna inside RVs fit for modern Roman emperors.

- JESSE HYDE

A storm was coming.

Fausto Zapata had been telling everyone since he had arrived at Burning Man five days earlier. They laughed at him, started calling him “the meteorologist” because, um, what forecast was he looking at?

Dust storms were common in the desert, with winds cresting at 60 miles an hour. Temperatures could soar to 110 degrees. Lightning even. But heavy rain? That didn’t happen in Black Rock.

This was Zapata’s fourth Burning Man. Back in Los Angeles he co-owned an artisanal mezcal company, El Silencio, and a companion luxury resort in Oaxaca. He liked the finer things, but he didn’t mind roughing it. In fact, he relished the harsh conditions at Burning Man. He learned something new every year. Often the desert itself had been his best teacher.