Could You Survive?
For just one night, alone, in the White Mountains of Arizona, could you survive? With night temperatures below freezing, could you do it? If you had a survival kit and all the resources needed, would you know how to use everything to stay alive? Would you stay calm? How would you do it? As an Eagle Scout, born into an outdoor family, I knew I could. The story of my recent disorientation becoming a survival situation may help you better understand how simple it can be.
In the late fall, the scenery in the White Mountains, just South of Alpine, AZ, is breathtaking. My father, sister and I had Deer tags for Unit 27. We decided to hunt the North edge, where many big trees, big canyons and big mountains, make ATV use ideal. In this primitive country along the Eastern edge of Arizona, the roads are many, and spider web throughout the big country. The difference between this honeycomb of roads and ones found in the desert are elevation. Many roads parallel each other at different levels of a canyon, reaching out, connecting and allowing access to meadows, saddles, ridges and valleys. Many have forks that are directional, meaning the other road is at an angle, and may not be visible from both directions. This can get confusing and misleading, especially after dark, where the tall trees, deep canyons and big mountains, make for a very, very dark night. Even the star's light is easily blocked. This situation is what caused my disorientation.
Friday morning I sat at the edge of a huge field waiting and watching for deer. After the constant aerial assault of debris from the squirrels, I realized, again, that the deer must've read the paper. I packed up, headed back to the bike, and started looking for predators. I found a couple great spots, called, but to no prevail. On the last stand, I set up at the bottom of two canyons, and started calling. 30 minutes in, the hair on the back of my neck started to crawl. I slowly turned around to find a pair of wolves, less than 30 yards, up the hill, behind me. Both, after looking at me, behind them, then back at me, sulked away. I knew there were more, probably trying to slash my tires or vandalize my quad. I packed up, crept up the hill, and drove off into the setting sun. Now it was getting dark, fast. So, I began the trip back to camp, but thanks to the directional forks in the roads, I soon became disoriented. By the fourth time driving passed the same ugly tree stump, I grew frustrated. Down half a tank of gas, and who knows how far from camp, I knew what I needed to do.
Cold, hungry, and frustrated with myself, an Eagle Scout, LOST, I prayed. Turning at a bend in the road, I spotted a fire pit. As I drove into the empty campsite, I noticed a huge pile of split logs, a gift from God. Parked with headlights shining, I build a fire. With night-log in place, fire blazing, I started building a "lean-to" shelter at the mouth of the fire pit. Walls almost 2 feet high, the horseshoe shape reflected most its heat out of the opening into my shelter. I moved the woodpile within arms reach from my bed of green pine bows. Using my emergency sleeping bag to line the inside of my lean-to, I created an oven. With the cold no longer a problem, my hunger sets in, so I start water boiling. Did you know how awesome fire-roasted-beef-jerky is? It tastes like a very well done steak. Jerky, trail mix, and hot tea made a great dinner. I'm warm, fed, and now ready for bed. A little uncomfortable sleeping on the ground, but the pine bows helped. Waking up every 30-45 minutes to throw another log on, my fire stayed hot all night long. I only got up, three times, to feed more of the night-log into the fire. Morning is approaching, the air is cold, and light begins to creep across the sky, as I throw the last bit of firewood on.
Sunlight, alas, the night has ended. I pack up, and let the bike warm up. Taking inventory of my water supply, I realize that I can only spare 2 quarts. I spread out the ashes, kick in the rocks, and remove what is left of the night-log. I do my best to extinguish the fire, before heading back to camp. Back tracking, in the daylight, I see all the wrong turns I made the night before. As I work my way home, I ponder: would any of my friends survived the night? My dad would have, his life long friend would have. Would you have? Could you survive? For just one night, alone, in the White Mountains of Arizona, would you survive?
~*~ Strength and Honor ~*~
-MJM-
