We made it back to HQ at 5:45, just as the first blush of dawn was lightening the eastern sky. He checked out while I went to the potties. I got some water and was waiting for my shift to end when two people approached HQ, a guy and a girl dressed in black. The guy was wanting to know where the Medical tent was, to help the girl, but the girl kept interrupting with questions about the Rangers. I didn’t know what was wrong, but I offered to walk with her over to Medical. After a few steps, however, she threw her cup of milk in the air, splashing milk all over her shoulder. She was shaking, she was so upset. I talked her into sitting down on one of the HQ benches. She said she hadn’t slept and hadn’t had any water since arriving on the playa. Apparently, she hadn’t read any of the materials about preparing for Burning Man. She thought Burning Man should provide water stations where everyone could get water, because she was an artist and apparently artists shouldn’t be expected to know anything about personal survival. “I am counting the f*cking seconds until I can leave this f*cking place!” she cried. I got her settled down, and went to get her some water—and maybe a lift to Medical—when she just took off walking back the way she came. I guess she just needed to vent. It's hard to get help if you don't stick around. I wondered if I could’ve handled things better, but I wasn’t running on all cylinders myself. I checked out and stumbled back to my tent. It was freezing in there. Peeling off my dusty clothes, I cocooned myself inside my sleeping bags and immediately fell asleep.

Sunlight seemed to be coming from everywhere when I woke up. I’d slept about 3 hours and felt much better. I still had on my long underwear. I drank some water and found Star outside writing in her journal. She said she already made her pilgrimage out to the Temple, but still wanted us to do something together. Mark later explained the 2 AM altercation in the bar. There was a guy and a girl and another guy, and things got a little out of hand. Cops and Rangers had come and gone. Also, someone stole the big red dog again! About 5 AM, guys from a Mad Max car swept in, snatched the dog, and took off. Spoon gave chase, grabbing the dog’s tail, but it ripped, leaving a trail of Styrofoam down the street. The trail went cold after 2 blocks. All that remained of Clifford the mascot was a bag of his residual abdominal styrofoam. He was gone.

At the porta potties, somebody left behind a supply of toilet paper, but stole the toilet seat! There was theft all over the playa that morning. It was Friday, September 2nd. Brian shared some beer. Star had me doodle in her notebook. She was doing a project where she would make artwork from “random squiggles.”

At 2 PM, I headed out to Outpost Berlin. At Juplaya, one of the things we worked on was a reorginazation of the Sandman program. On the night the Man burns, there's a ring of Rangers that maintain the safety perimeter, helping to manage the crowds. Sometimes, however, people break through the perimeter and, for whatever reason, get too close to the fire. These people are called "runners." To protect participants, an inner ring of Rangers keep these people from getting too close to the fire. As anyone who saw the movie "Logan's Run" knows, the people who stop runners are the Sandmen.

I got recruited to help out with the Sandmen. At Berlin, I met up with Rangers Legba and Roadrash, who were spearheading the project. We worked on strategy and tactics, keeping the emphasis on the safety of participants. We did lots of tumbling and rolling around in the dust. I even got to teach a little. We drilled all the procedures. We got a lot worked out. I was on my bike headed back to camp when I realized how much fun I was having. I was dirtier than I’d been in a long time and felt great. I even laughed out loud. On the way back to camp, I stopped to watch a guy fly a bird-shaped kite. Skydivers did a high-velocity dance over the city.