Trishie Tale #1 by Kristin Slye
Tricia and I have been friends for over two decades. We didn’t see each other all the time, but when we did, there was an ease and warmth, as well as a lot of deliciously bad puns. After I moved to Truckee from San Francisco in 2019, we’d meet up in the mountains to ski or hike. In nature, far removed from the party atmosphere of the city, our talks were deeper and more vulnerable. Our friendship had leveled up, so when she texted me in late August 2023, and said, “Hey, I’m up in Truckee, do you want to go for a hike,” despite being consumed with packing for my upcoming trip to Burning Man, I replied, “Absolutely!” Nobody wants to miss an opportunity to hang with Trishie.
We met at the trailhead the next day. My dog Matty can be very particular when greeting new humans. Tricia calmly let Matty say hi and check her out. Immediately, Matty gave me a look that said, Mama, I really like this lady. She’s never wrong.
We set out on one of my favorite trails, the Sawtooth to the 89 Overlook. I had an inkling Tricia would appreciate the dramatic beauty of the vista and I was right. She gasped taking in the view of the Truckee River below, Palisades to the left where we shared many a ski day, Castle Peak to the right, and before us a valley that extended into a tree line and then yet another valley.
While we hiked, she shared that she had intensive dental surgery the previous month and didn’t buy a ticket for Burning Man, not knowing if she would be healed enough to go. She said, “But you know, I’m actually 100% now.” A few minutes later she added. “Also, what’s weird is that I was supposed to be cat sitting for a friend this week, but I’m not needed anymore.” Small pause and then, “Even weirder, is that when I packed for Truckee I threw some costumes in my bag. Not sure why.” Finally, I asked, “Trishie, do you want me to kidnap you and take you Burning Man?” Without missing a beat, she said, “Yes please.” I shouted with excitement, “Let’s do this! I have a bike for you, a tent, you can ride shotgun in my van. All you need is some food and those costumes you mysteriously packed for some reason.” (wink wink) The next day, we found her a ticket and everything was falling into place.Trishie and I were going to Burning Man!
On the afternoon of Tuesday, August 29th we set out. We had a stop first in Reno to connect with two people to caravan to the playa as one of them had my ticket and vehicle pass. I won’t go into the whole story, but the important part to know is that we were met with some unexpected toxic energy. We asked them to transfer the tickets to my name so we could set out alone, but we were met with more hostility and were told that the tickets could not be found in the person’s Burner Profile. Things were going south very quickly. Tricia took me to the bathroom and said, “Look, we are getting out of here. This is unsafe and they are clearly not doing well. We want no part of this. I’ve got you and we will figure this out.”
We drove away shaking. We went and sat at a funky Reno restaurant, sipped Diet Cokes, and started to post a need for one ticket and vehicle pass on social media. Finally, after two hours and no luck, we decided to drive back to Truckee, get some sleep, and solve things in the morning.
I have never been more grateful to have such a good friend by my side who could not only see what a toxic situation we were in, but validate that reality for me, and help us get to a safe place where we could rest and regroup. Not once did Tricia complain or become upset about our detour. She just said, “This is all part of the adventure. I’m just happy to be here with you and glad you didn’t have to go through that alone.” Me too.
The next morning at 5am we got a text message that I had a ticket and vehicle pass. Take two as we set out at 5:30a. As we rounded the bend into Reno, we took in a breathtaking sunrise as we listened to a beautiful mediation called The Light of Truth by East Forest. Tears streamed down our cheeks. We drove deep into the desert and arrived at the gate. It was the easiest entry either of us ever had into Burning Man. We got to camp at 8:30 AM after a night of rest and set up camp, our little home for the next 4 days.
Then, the rain came and 4 days turned into 7. At first, we were both bummed as we needed to get back to work, but once we realized there was nothing we could do, we surrendered, and had an amazing experience. Thank you rain for giving me three extra days with Tricia. She said, “This is my 18th trip to the playa and it’s still just as magical as my first.” We shared so many perfect moments: sitting around camp chatting, bejeweling our faces, and busting out many epic dance floor moves. On Thursday night, we rode our bikes for 6 hours, just the two of us looking at art. At one point, we got close to the Temple where those who were lost in the previous year are honored. I asked if she wanted to go in. She said, “Maybe later. I’m not ready.” No, you weren’t ready my friend.
The mud finally dried and it came time for exodus. On our 13 hour journey home that extended through night and into the morning, Tricia said, “I’ve got you,” and she did. She wasn’t on the van rental contract so she couldn’t drive, but she never fell asleep as the passenger, even though we were both painfully exhausted. We sang songs, ate PB&J sandwiches, and talked about what really matters (love, friendship, connection). When we finally made it to Truckee, tears of gratitude flowed for making it home safely. I looked at her and said, “Thank you, Tricia. I could not have done this without you. You made this week for me. I love you.” It was the last time I saw her.
After Burning Man, my right foot was in terrible pain. Facia on the bottom of my foot were torn from all the walking around in makeshift garbage bag boots. It started to get a little better on the morning of October 7 and it was the first time I was able to walk without much pain. Then at 7:13pm, I answered a call from my friend Alix and she told me that Tricia had suffered a fatal accident. The call only lasted three minutes, but in those three minutes my heart was shattered. I tried to stand up, but the pain in my foot came back so severely, that I fell to the floor and just laid there sobbing. The body holds trauma in mysterious ways. My husband, Jeff, came home. I told him the news and he joined me on the floor. We held each other and cried like that for over an hour.
The following week was brutal; so many waves of sadness and crying, while trying to compartmentalize my grief at work. My whole body ached, and my injured foot was unbearable to stand on. However, the Friday after Tricia died, something told me I had to return to the 89 overlook where we had hiked and hatched our Burning Man plan. I went to the trailhead with Matty and set out. Every step was excruciating, but something kept calling me to the overlook.
Unsure if I should continue with the pain, I asked Tricia to give me a sign. A few seconds later, a rumble of thunder way off in the distance. I said laughing, “Okay Trishie, you don’t have to be so dramatic.” The sign kept me going.
Then, I saw the crow. Crows are to me what Native Americans call a spirit animal. They have always appeared during intense times of loss and change in my life and are therefore, deeply comforting. They’re known to be messengers between the spirit world and the earth world.
The crow flew and then waited in a big, beautiful tree at the vista that made Tricia gasp when she saw it. As soon as I reached the overlook, the crow gave a caw and flew off over the river, soaring above the valley, riding the wind over the tree line and finally, it descended into the next valley out of sight. I like to think it was Tricia saying goodbye.
Just after the crow disappeared from view, a huge, random gust of wind pulled my hat off of my head. I said out loud, “That’s enough now Trishie,” and I heard in my mind, her famous giggle. Then I added, “If you have any magical powers in the afterlife, can you please help my foot so I can get back to my car?” No dice. I limped the whole way back, but my spirit felt oddly calm for the first time in a whole week. I could hear her say, I only have enough powers right now to heal one thing and I chose your heart over your foot. Once again, I’ve got you.
Now that she’s gone, all I can do now, all we can do now, is to get her. We can do this by embodying who she was in the world to honor her and carry her memory forth. We can be kind, because she showed us how kind. Be funny, because she showed us how to be funny. Be magical, because she showed us how to be magical. Really truly be there for others, because Tricia showed us how. We’ve got you, Trishie. We’ve got you. We’ve got you.