Ranger Outpost Berlin, Black Rock City.
My Ranger work is mostly Operator. I sit in a shack and listen to the radio and transcribe important incidents. “Khaki, Khaki, this is Bigshot, I need medical at 4:15 and Echo for a disoriented participant who fell from an artwork.” Someone calls it in, I log it, the system moves.
It’s a good way to feel the pulse of the city from behind the scenes. You hear everything. The city runs in the background of your headphones: gate numbers, medical calls, structures team, perimeter, the weather watch. A six-hour shift covers a whole cross-section of what Black Rock City actually is versus what the Instagram version suggests.
I also did one Green Dot shift in 2022 — that’s the emotional support role, quietly available to someone having an overwhelming experience. No fixing, no credit-taking. Just present. That shift had no “customers,” which I noted without disappointment. The availability itself is the work.
The most overwhelming feeling on the playa that year was missing friends. So many close people who’ve become part of the burner diaspora — camps moved on, kids grew, lives got in the way. A lot of them were still there in spirit if not in person. I did meet some new friends, mostly Rangers in camp.
It’s cool being part of a club whose art is helping people.