A Life Lesson

Trapped in a life threatening wilderness where hope seemed a useless companion.

It is snowing again. Big soft innocent looking flakes. Deadly when combined. I’m trapped within them in my snow cave. Me and my survival pack. I wonder if I’m the only one lost out here. I hate to think of a rescue party searching through this deadly storm to find me.

Yet, my heart, mind, and soul listens for the faintest sound of life in the surrounding silence. Nothing. I’m so tired. I’ll quit writing now.

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Can’t sleep. Heard a coyote or wolf howl. I’m a city person testing the limits of a boring life. What weapon would I have to fend off an attack? A frozen snowball? My thoughts scatter in the wind joining the howling outside.

Writing in my journal keeps me awake. The howling is coming closer. One call joining another. I think it’s a whole pack of beasts. I made my snow cave right on the trail in hopes finding me would be easier. Maybe not a good idea. What if the wolves follow it to me.

I’ve melted some water using my Jetboil. Making some soup. Got to keep hydrated. Lots of time alone. Lots to think about. The most effective way to change your behavior is to focus not on what you want to achieve, but on who you want to become. I’m the type of guy who can adapt. I can survive hardship and learn from it. Sure. But for how long?

The wolves have found me. I hear them playing together outside. They sound like tame dogs. Was it the smell of my hot soup that caught their interest? The snow has stopped. The wind has not.

My thoughts are so scattered. It is hard to focus. Hot water from the Jetboil drove the first wolf nose away. I’ve blocked off the entrance to my snow cave. I hope it snows again. Let mother nature drive them off. What do I know? Maybe they’ll bed down near me.

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Daylight. It’s a soft muted glow through the east side of my man cave. I nodded off. I’ve survived another night. Two full weeks of them that should have been only one. The wolves are still here. I heard one whine at the sound of a low flying helicopter overhead. Nothing I could do to let it know I’m down here. What kind of man survives this?

The wolves. Sound of frantic pawing, digging at my snow cave. They must be hungry. Is this the end? I love you Martha, and the boys.

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Love. I thought I loved the wilderness. The breath of freedom it offers, the peacefulness getting away from civilization brings. The wolves found other game. I heard the bleat of a deer following the trial, then its death cry, the thud of its body against one of my ice walls. Thanks for saving my life.

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Renewed digging, searching for a way in. It doesn’t sound like wolves. “Are you in there, Bob?”
Am I dreaming? The voice sounds like Fred’s, my best friend.

“I’m here. Thank God so are you.”

My legs are so cramped I can hardly move. The open sky nearly blinds me. Fred is hugging me like a maniac. The wolves offer a parting howl. I realize survival takes more than guts. It takes luck, and a motivated friend.

“You found me just in time.,”

“Easy. Just the one main trail. You did your part staying on it.”

We both stare at the deer carcass. "I guess you drove the beast off before they finished their dinner. They usually only leave a little left over blood." One life at its end. Mine welcoming a future unknown and yet to be explored., Fred calls in the helicopter on his walkie talkie. Cell phone signals don't work out here. Am I stronger for taking this survival class? Not really. Just more grateful for each newly glimpsed moment of life that I have.

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Reading over my journal. Maybe that’s the lesson meant to be learned. Living a life of gratitude. I'll write down what I'm grateful for each day in my new journal. It will help me keep that focus. End of this journal's entries. A new beginning to life yet to be gratefully earned and shared.