Dear Grandma, save me.
Can’t you help me? Can’t you call on some angels up there with you and get me out of here?
Please? Just one wrong move one mistake and I am dead. Can’t you arrange for some miracle? Food dropping from the sky would be nice.
I miss you,
-Renady
I was in the helicopter waiting to be told that it was time to start my descent down to the ground below. I had studied Utah once and the minute I saw the ground below me it finally struck me where I was. The Moab desert. I was in the stinking Moab desert! I finally considered what my chances were and it was close to none. I wanted to scream and yell and lash out but I stayed where I was. I was on a little step of the helicopter, strapped up for the extremely dangerous abseil I was about to be forced to do. I was looking down at the desert floor. I could feel the heat from where I was, radiating up to me like a heater. I was going to die. The trainer gave me the signal and I started my descent down to the scorching red floor. I kept my lips sealed shut in concentration until I touched down, taking a swift look around me. I had landed on a mesa, the heat roasting me alive. The Moab desert is the most deadly desert in North America, and I was now standing in the middle of it. I searched the desert looking for something that would give me even a hint of shade-or better yet-water. My eyes found a canyon. A canyon meant shade, and shade meant rest and a better chance of survival. I inched my way down, and I was only fifteen feet from the ground when I realized that I was stuck. I couldn’t go down or up. I griped the side of the mesa with a death grip. I was rim rocked. So many people had died because of this. They had died from holding on until they let go, exhausted from the combination heat and strength it required to stay in place. That won’t be me. I tried to remember what to do, but only remembered pieces. I didn’t know if what I remembered would be enough. I would have to do my best. I threw myself off, slamming my knees together keeping them slightly bent. For a few brief glorious moments I was falling and flying in the same moment. Just as soon as the feeling had flickered in my head it disappeared as I landed rolling to disperse the momentum.
I sputtered and coughed out the dirt I had gotten in my mouth. I could have sworn that there was enough to fill a sand box. Then again I was standing in a giant sizzling sand box already. I peeked open one eye then squeezed open the other. I did a quick check of myself. Arms? Check. Hands? Check. Legs? Check. Head? Check. I was ecstatic to find no injury whatsoever, other than a few scrapes. Maybe I remembered more than I thought. I headed towards the canyon, the heat scorching my neck. I just hoped welts wouldn’t show up. The day was inching closer and closer to midday, that meant it would get much hotter almost unbearable. If I didn’t make it to the canyon by then, well, I didn’t want to think about it. From the bit of information I had managed to gather in the helicopter it was currently one hundred twelve degrees out. I was losing a liter of water in my body every hour and I had to keep my head and my brain cool. I had worn layers, knowing this would be the case. I had a long sleeved shirt under the white short sleeve one I was wearing on top. So I pulled off the white one, and used an old fashioned trick my grandpa had taught me on a hot summer day. I took out my knife. I had stolen it in the helicopter, and hidden it on my body. I hacked through one of the seams then wrapped it around my head. After twisting it I then tugged it around tight behind my head and around in front of my face, covering my nose. I then tied it in a nice knot. I was fully aware of the time I was losing so I soon was finished with the scarf, and I trudged on. I had to make sure that my body temperature stayed under one hundred five degrees Fahrenheit or I would get heatstroke, the symptoms of which would include getting confused. My body would go into unpleasant convulsions, I would maybe even fall into a coma, and that was something I could not afford to do. I fell often, the sand searing my skin as I did so. After about another hour or two of walking, I found the canyon. I trudged gratefully towards it. How I would get down into it however was a whole different story. I hoped there was water down there shade did seem like a good sign there would be. I used that thought as leverage to keep me going, I realized when they handed me my things, my water bottle was empty. I hopped from rock to rock as far as I could go. I needed to find a way down the canyon fast. The sun was reaching closer and closer to straight above my head. I realized that scorching was truly the only word that could describe this, the scorching sand, the scorching air, the scorching everything. If I didn’t get down into the canyon I would be as good as dead.
Eventually I found a way down. It was steep and dangerous like a slide that I had to climb down with nothing to hold on to. I carefully made my way down at last reaching the bottom. It was at the very least twenty degrees cooler here. I searched for big clumps of vegetation. That would be my surest sign of water. It took a while but I found it. If I had any energy left in me I would have jumped for joy. It was a Tamarisk plant. I knew there was water then. Those greedy plants, sucking up a stinking twenty gallons a day, when I was over here nearly dehydrated. I kept a look out for glorious signs like these and thank goodness, more came. However, they only to lead to gross, polluted, water. A rotting rabbit and series of other unidentifiable animals where floating in it. I realized that it was not flowing water and it was surely not safe to drink. I had to follow it but there was no way around it. Once again I would have to go through it. Ick! What was it about me that attracted smelly swamps and polluted water? Not to mention that I always had to go through it. I took a step into the water disgusted, then another. The ground switched from hard, to soft rock, to squishy guck under my feet. Much to my surprise, the water was freezing. Soon I had to swim to keep my head above the water. I would be exhausted in no time. I had gone from the possibility of heat stroke to hypothermia in two seconds flat. I had no way out of the water, and was submerged to my neck. Worse yet, I now found my way blocked by a large bolder with no holes large enough for me to fit through. I wanted to die at this point, but knew that later I would change my mind so I continued to look for a way besides going under it. I found none. I muttered a few choice words, then started taking a series of quick breaths so I would hyperventilate and be able to hold my breathe longer. Then I dove under. The water was murky and cold and disgusting. It stung to open my eyes. I kept swimming, my body longing for oxygen, getting louder and louder and louder, then demanding, until it was screaming violently for air. I could feel myself start to shut down when I suddenly saw the sun again above me and was able to pop my head up. I coughed, choked, and sputtered trying to breath in the luxurious air I had just been deprived from. It took me a long while to catch up. Once the oxygen issue was taken care of I continued to search for clean water. Having to hold my breath like that had stolen plentiful amounts of my energy, but I kept going. Until, that is, I met my doom. I had reached a dead end. I didn’t want to go back, but it seemed impossible to go up. It was too narrow for me to do the chimney climb and if I tried to do it regular I would be in an extreme amount more danger because my shoes wouldn’t be able to get a grip on the sandstone partly because it was so smooth and mostly because when it got wet it did you as much good as running up a water slide. Yet, I had no other choice but to climb. I knew that I would never forgive myself if I died giving of hypothermia because of a dead end. I knew that if I was going to die I was going to die trying. I huffed out a sigh, and started to climb. I was making great progress when suddenly my shoe slipped. I grabbed where I could, only barely keeping myself holding on. A shriek escaped my mouth. Once I had caught my breath I started climbing again. That’s when I heard the sound of rushing water coming from a cave to my left I climbed sideways until I was just under it, then I hoisted myself up and into it, following the glorious sound. I was but two steps in when I saw it. It was a luscious, beautiful, waterfall. Water that was clean, and pure, and most importantly edible flowed from it. I ran towards it. Which was a very big mistake. A rattling noise sounded very near my leg. A rattlesnake. I backed away slowly. That’s when I slipped. I began
to fall. The snake struck once, twice, and then I was falling over the age of the falls, and down the cliff.
Operation You've Got To Be Kidding Me Page 12
