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# Survival Journal - Week 5

Non-journal comment: This week started with 3 days called Solo. It was supposed to be the highlight of the course where each participant internalized the life lessons of the previous weeks of challenge and hardship. However, I spent most of my time resting, cooking, and eating. It took another 30 years of living to fully internalize all those life lessons. I guess I’m a slow learner.

Early Sunday morning two big-forked bucks walked below unaware of my observance. To my horror, I found that the water in the stream was still muddy red. I spent about an hour gathering firewood and cooked some oatmeal with the water I had in my canteen. I then went upstream in search of a spring I had passed the night before. To my delight I found one much closer to my "home” which issued a small stream of cool clear water.

I spent most of the rest of the day doing just that—resting. I cooked up little goodies much of the time, read a little and dozed some too. I immensely enjoy this experience of quiet, leisure and meditation. I cannot think of much else that I could ask for to make me happier or more contented.

Sunday night 9 pm - I’m sitting against my base camp bag, staring into my campfire and listening to the quiet drone of the crickets. I’ve just finished a fantastic meal of lentil, potato, and carrot stew with sugared ash cakes and a bedtime hot totty of warm milk and brown sugar. It all gives a man a great deal of peace and satisfaction.

Monday morning, I spent cooking breakfast, gathering more wood, and going for water. Now that I have time to examine myself, I have discovered how truly grubby I am. I can rub grimy black stuff off of my face and arms. I have been wearing the same pair of pants for a month now. They have everything from sheep fat to ash cake dough on them. Oh well, in a few short days I will be able to take a hot soaker bath at Grandma and Grandpa's place.

For lunch I cooked up an excellent gravy for my ash cakes. I derive immense pleasure from cooking over a campfire and eating my tasty concoctions. They have given us a rather large food pack for solo and I find that I am spending much of my time preoccupied with cooking and eating. I feel a little guilty that I have not used more of my time for the purpose it was intended; that of meditation, prayer and earnest thought. I should write most of my paper today, a task I don’t much look forward to. I guess I had better get started.

Evening -- A gusty wind has begun to blow through the canyon. My house is not very well protected from wind and I’m getting lots of sand blown all over everything. Fortunately, as with most desert weather, it was a short-lived storm and lasted only about 45 minutes. A quiet peace has again settled over the canyon. I cooked a delicious stew of rice, potatoes and TVP and retired for the night. I kept my fire burning all night and my overhang retains the heat well. I enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in my T-shirt all night. During the night, my house was visited, or I should say invaded, by a big-eared desert mouse. First, he attacked my moleskin hatband and when I took that out of his reach, he ransacked my toilet paper. He certainly was a daring little fellow.

Breakfast Tuesday morning was cracked wheat mush and left-over stew. I whiled away the morning by gathering wood, getting water, and cooking a big batch of ash cakes. Then I read until about 2:30 when I decided I had better try to finish my paper. As I began to write, the clouds began to move in, and it started to thunder. It was another diller of a thunder and lightning storm. This time I enjoyed watching it from the comforts of my home and was grateful that it is so well protected from the rain. It did not even stop me from starting to cook some lentils for tonight’s dinner, but it did distract me from my writing. This time also I was able to appreciate how spectacular the storm was. Large, gushing waterfalls seemed to spring instantly from the canyon walls. The little creek rose to a torrent in only a half hour. Those raindrops must have been as big as marbles and yet, here I sit as dry as a bone. It’s really neat to see a great flash of lightning and instantly hear and feel the great crash of thunder with its following rumble down the canyon. This storm lasted less than half an hour. Now, as I write, another one has just, passed over. I almost wish they would go away so I could get on with my writing of my paper.

At about 6:30 I was surprised to see one of our instructors, Russ, walking up the creek bed. It was raining lightly, and he was soaked to the skin. He waved and I called out to invite him up to my humble abode and warm himself by my fire. I had been expecting him or someone all day because they had told us that an instructor would come to interview each of us on Tuesday. I had almost given up hope when the storms came and was very happy to see another human being after three days of solitude. After a prayer we shared our thoughts and feelings of the past month. As we talked, I felt his love and concern for me and was very grateful to have shared those few moments with such a dedicated instructor. We closed the interview with prayer, and he left, still wet, but perhaps a little warmer. I then reheated my lentil stew, ate a meager dinner and retired for my last night of solitude. The little field mouse came to visit again that night only this time I gave him some cracked wheat, to keep him busy.

At 5:30 Wednesday morning I cooked the last of my oatmeal and ate a hurried breakfast. I then gathered up my stuff and prepared to leave my home of the past few days. I said good-bye to my overhang and left for the instructor’s camp at 6:30. At about 7 they began to rappel the rest of those that hadn’t done it on Saturday. The cliff was about 140 feet high and was nearly vertical except for the last 20 feet at the bottom where the cliff face jutted inward sharply. This meant that the last 20 feet of descending was in mid-air, dangling by the ropes. I went down very slowly and carefully to enjoy it as long as I could. It was over all too soon. They finished rappelling the rest of us by 11:30.

At about noon we all met together under some big cottonwood trees for our final testimony meeting. The spirit of the Lord was very strong, and we shared our love for each other for 4 hours. I will never forget the special feeling I had at that meeting. It made all the hardship and suffering of the past month seem worthwhile. After the meeting we had another special treat. A church member sister from Boulder had baked us about 15 loaves of home-made whole wheat bread with two big cubes of real butter. Each of us were given 2 and a half thick slices with great gobs of peanut butter and jam smeared all over them. Then we built a big fire and cooked up a big pot of chunky chicken soup. Most of us thought we had died and gone to heaven. That meal was our first solid food that tasted like a civilized meal for a whole month. Then we had a fireside that evening. We sang songs, had skits, and were given awards. I was given the mouse-keeper award for my tender care of my pet mouse during solo. Then Chuck explained to us about the run-in to Boulder in the morning. We were to get up at 4am and be ready to leave camp by 5:30. For a final surprise before going to bed, the staff made us a big pot of hot chocolate and give us each a candy bar. We were then expected to get some rest before the ordeal in the morning, but most of the kids stayed up and talked late into the night, nervously anticipating the run-in and our entrance back into civilization.

At 4 in the morning, we woke up to GT Joe giving everyone orders to get up and get moving. Many were reluctant to face this day and we didn’t leave camp until 6:30. We were to walk to the top of the hill where we would start running the 11 miles into Boulder. At precisely 7 a.m. the gun went off and the boys cheered the girls as they took off down the road. At 7:15 the gun went off again for the boys. For the first quarter mile I stayed with the pack sizing up who would be the hardest ones to beat and seeing how the pace felt. It felt a little slow, so I began to leave them behind. After 10 minutes of running, I never saw another boy until the end when they came into Boulder. I started passing the first of the girls after 20 minutes of running. They were very sweet and encouraged me to keep it up. After 4 ½ miles of easy downhill and level running I was surprised to cross Deer Creek. That first half hour of running had seemed so easy. Most of the rest of the way was up hill and I began to feel the strain. After 45 minutes I began to feel cramps in my legs and my breathing was very heavy and labored. I had to walk up some of the steeper hills. I kept passing girls, but I knew I would not be first until I passed the girl I knew would be in the lead.

After an hour and 20 minutes I finally sighted her a quarter mile ahead. By this time, I was really hurting, and it gave me a boost of energy to see Suzy. As I passed her, I smiled and said, “I love you, Suzy”. It was only another 5 minutes when I rounded a bend to find the first buildings of Boulder. I shouted for joy as I ran up to the chapel and collapsed into the arms of Chuck at 8:46. I had run the 12 miles in 1 hour and 31 minutes, 9 minutes from the record time. I had revived somewhat and was walking slowly around to keep my muscles from cramping when Suzy came in 5 minutes behind me. Kids kept coming in for the next hour and a half, the last one coming in at 10 am. By 10:45 we were loaded on the bus and heading back toward Provo. We stopped in Richfield where everyone went crazy buying food at a Safeway store there. We arrived in Provo at 5 pm where we unloaded at the Richards PE building.

There were many tears and hugs and happy reunions with parents. We all said our good-byes and went our separate ways until we would meet again at the party Friday at 10 am.