BOULDER OUTDOOR SURVIVAL SCHOOL (BOSS) They picked us up in Provo, all of us having stayed at the same hotel the night before, somehow without meeting. Looking at the others that morning, I naturally started sizing them up, wondering about their backgrounds, what had brought them here, and how they would be to work with when things got tough. We were here for a 14 day field course - two weeks in the desert with a knife, a blanket, and not much else. Among the group were gray-haired matriarchs and young men barely out of high school. We all got in the van together and began learning each others stories on the way to Boulder, Utah. DAY 1 - ORIENTATION At the schools base (consisting of one yurt and a couple of quicky-ups beside a swift-flowing creek), we went through orientation and learned that we would be split into two groups. I had gravitated toward a couple of students in the van who looked to have some experience, but found that they were both in the other group. We were introduced to our instructors, though, and I really liked ours. Dave, Logan, and Mojo all emanated an inner peace that told me I had met kindred spirits. I was not to be disappointed. We all introduced ourselves, and I was surprised by how many of the students had completed Outward Bound courses in the past. They had been deeply affected by their Outward Bound experience, and were now here seeking an experience that was supposed to be a step beyond OB. During orientation they talked about the line between objective risk and subjective risk, and how their job was to take us as close as possible to that line without crossing. To facilitate this and to simulate an actual survival situation, all future information about the course (how far are we going today? what should I wear?) would be meted out sparingly, if at all. We would have to wake each morning prepared for anything, grabbing every rest opportunity as if it might be our last for many miles and hours, and every chance to eat and drink not knowing when we would get another. After orientation they had us run a mile and a half to judge the condition of our hearts. The high altitude (7,000) kicked all our asses. I had only run 100 yards or so when I felt my top gear go, just like losing the transmission in a car. I pushed on and finished 4th in a field of 24. I may have been pushing harder than most; most of the guys were younger than me, and I was determined not to start the course having anyone thinking they had to make allowances for the old man. After the run, the other group left heading down into the canyons. Our group got a quick lesson in how to use our knives safely, and carved our own spoons that we would be using through the rest of course. We sorted our gear into a blanket pack (literally, using p-cord and webbing to turn our blankets into a pack) which we would get later, and a smaller bundle, wrapped in a square of cloth, that we would take with us as we left that night. Finally, right at dusk, we left ourselves - heading up! DAY 1 - IMPACT PHASE We hiked up and over a ridge, then down the other side in star light so dim (no moon) that we could barely make out the person in front of us. There was no real trail, and several times we had to sit down and slide so as not to fall. This was definitely fuzzing the objective/subjective risk line, and was not something I would have done with one of my Outward Bound groups. We forded a stream in the dark, bush-whacked our way up the far bank, and finally reached an open area under some small juniper trees. Our instructors announced (around midnight), this is home for the night, see you in the morning. With no tents, no sleeping bags, not even our blankets, and no training yet in how to build shelters, we were all too exhausted to do more than curl up under the nearest tree. I tried to pick a spot with thicker duff, and slept fitfully (it was cold!) that first night. DAY 2 - IMPACT PHASE Next morning, the instructors asked us how we had slept, and about our various strategies for staying comfortable. That night, they would teach us how to make shelters. This was generally how the course was run; by the time they taught each skill, we were highly invested in learning it due to being acutely aware of how valuable the skill would be to us. This morning Dave began showing us how to make fire. We were surrounded by juniper, and juniper bark is some of the best fire starter in the world. We were also surrounded by sage, which is perfect for making fireboards and drills. Dave pulled out his own drill set, and had a fire going in about two minutes. He then gave us time to collect the raw materials to build our own sets with before having us move on. We hiked up the canyon, picking up a trail that took us through junipers and into the aspens. You can almost track your altitude by the trees you find in the mountains. Junipers, pinion pines, ponderosa pines, aspens and scrub oaks, giving way finally to spruce and firs. We stopped along the way this day for lessons on flint-knapping, micro-biotic soils, physical anthropology (solving the mystery of a deers death), and medicinal plants. When we stopped for the day, we were perhaps at 9,000. It was already chilly, and undoubtedly going to be colder than the previous night. When the instructors started showing us how to make shelters, everyone paid attention. Duff, they told us. Lots and lots of duff. Oh, and block the wind if you can, and get a shelter over the top of you in case it rains. I set my home up next to a big fallen tree. I found lots of smaller pieces to build a lean-to, and then filled the space with duff. I spent two hours gathering duff. I wanted to be warm! I slept well that night (though not as well as the three women who huddled together for warmth - how I wished I was with them!). DAY 3 - IMPACT PHASE Next morning we toured the shelters, and there was a wide spectrum from those who threw something up quick so that they could go to bed right away (we had all been very tired), and those who spent hours getting everything just right. The instructors seemed happy with mine, and Dave commented, Id sleep in that. We hit the trail again, and by this time we were all starving. So when we came across some edible berries, everyone foraged for all we could find - service berries, goose berries, wild raspberries... Realizing how hungry we were, the instructors took us out of our way to visit a high lake where we could gather sedges. This required wading out into the leach-infested lake, sinking knee deep in mud, and pulling as many sedges as we thought we would eat. Dave suggested 20 each, but many of us took more. It started raining, and not all of us were dressed for the rain. We huddled under trees which sheltered us from the worst of it. The rain did not last, and soon we were on our way. We stopped in a grove of aspens to gather wild strawberry leaves and dandelions for salad. That night, when we stopped to make camp, we were informed that the Impact Phase was over. We got our blankets! And celebrated with a fire and roasted sedges and wild salad. We went to bed happy, and had aspen-forest dreams. DAY 4 - GROUP EXPEDITION With our blankets we received some other luxuries - we now had two nalgene bottles apiece, and so could carry water with us instead of just drinking what we could when we found water. We were also issued some meager rations to supplement what we found in the wild - a small bag of oats, one of lentils, and one of rice - to be split between a cooking group of three. We also got one onion, one carrot, and a bulb of garlic! Luxury indeed! I could hardly wait to start cooking! That morning we heated water for oatmeal, then learned the BOSS version of Leave-No-Trace. Dave questioned the use of camp stoves, pointing out that they were made using metals, plastics, and other resources that had to come from somewhere. At BOSS, they still cooked over camp fires, but used their fires as an opportunity to improve the land rather than spoiling it. To make room for the fire the night before, a circle of sod had been carefully removed and set aside. Now we collected cow pies (yes, in Utah there are cows in the wilderness. Its a long story) and ground them up among the ashes. The carbon and nitrogen would be stirred together to make a great fertilizer for surrounding plants. Once this was all scooped out and distributed, the sod was carefully replaced. BOSS had been using the same campsites for years, but one would never guess it from looking around - there simply were no impacts. Lorri insisted on carrying her own blanket pack this day, after reluctantly letting me carry her bundle the day before. One of our strongest members in spirit, Lorri was struggling with a bad knee and twisted ankle. Logan and Mojo made her a walking stick, which seemed to help. She inspired us all this day (not for the last time!) by limping up a mountain with that pack, one hobble at a time. We hiked to the top of Boulder-Top Mountain this day (also known as the Aquarius Plateau), through the rain (luckily now we all had our rain ponchos) and into the sunshine. The view from the top was amazing, and our exhaustion melted into exhilaration. This is where we took the group photo above. This was a good time for it, as we lost a couple of members soon after. We found lots of wild raspberries on top, and collected rocks to make the cradles for our fire sets. Dave informed us that this was the highest mesa in North America, topping out at just over 11,000. Even though we could see red-rock canyon below, at this elevation we were surrounded by green grass and Douglas Firs and fields of wild flowers. The flowers included a wild mint. We hiked across the mesa, passing several picturesque lakes before finding the one we would camp at. We got our fire going, just barely, despite the damp wood. I played chef for our cooking group, making a stew of lentils, rice, garlic and carrot, and serving up cups of hot mint tea while we waited for the lentils to cook. I leaned on the guys in our cooking group, Shawn and Matthew, to see if either was secure enough in their manhood to risk cuddling with another guy for warmth. Shawn was too much a loner, but Matthew, who would become my best friend on the course, agreed, as long as I did not mind sleeping out under the stars. So we used our ponchos and blankets to create a two-man sleeping bag. We went to bed with full tummies, looking up at stars that you only get to see when you sleep out at 11,000. We were pretty happy. DAY 5 - GROUP EXPEDITION I went out early the next morning to gather firewood for breakfast, and spied a little pica hiding among some rocks. You can see him in the pictures I took on course (link at bottom). The instructors informed us over breakfast that we would be staying here today to work on our fire-making sets and skills, as well as lessons in navigation. We spent most of the morning carving fireboards and drills, collecting branches for bows, and boring indentations into our rocks for cradles. Around noon mine was ready to try, and I just like that, I popped out a hot ember! First in our group! I gently tapped it into the nest I had prepared from shredded juniper bark, and breathed into it - oh so gently at first, then harder and harder until it burst into flames and I had to drop it into our fire ring. That afternoon Dave and I went around the lake (Horseshoe Lake) to some cliffs on the other side and dove in. We were diving from about 25 up, and it was just high enough to be fun/intimidating to take that big last step. The others saw us, and with a little encouragement most of them joined us. Everyone laughed and hesitated when they first looked down, but it was so much fun and eventually people were doing swan dives and cannon balls and Logan did this crazy sideways flip that he had learned as a kid and then Mojo did it too, never having done it before just going from watching Logan. Mojo was crazy like that, just a beautiful free spirit who floated through risk on his buoyant karma. Later, while Dave taught basic navigation (which I was well versed in), I wandered back to pick more mint for tea, and to take pictures of some pale yellow Indian Paintbrush I had seen the previous day. I stayed up, however, for Daves lesson on celestial navigation that night. Somehow it had never dawned on me that you could use the stars to tell not only direction, but also season and even what time it was. I soaked it all in as best I could, despite the cold. It was so cold this night that even Shawn finally agreed to sleep with Matt and I. So we combined our three ponchos to build a small tent, and slept our warmest yet. Good thing we had the tent, because it rained this night. But we didnt care, we were snuggled warm and dry and slept like babes through the mountain showers. DAY 6 - GROUP EXPEDITION We got off to a slow start, and hiked most of the morning in the rain. Rain? We were hiking through the clouds themselves! We were carrying the maps now ourselves, and shooting bearings to find our way. I collected more mint as we descended from the mesa, not sure if I would find it again at the lower altitudes. Around midday, in a clearing in the distance, I saw my first wild elk! I had seen elk tracks and scat many times in my many wilderness adventures, but now finally I was seeing the magnificent creatures themselves, and hearing their weird cry. They galloped out of the clearing into the far woods. The hiking went on forever this day, exacerbated by our late start. At one point we lost the trail we were trying to use. It was shown on the map, but our instructors had never seen it and it must not have been used for many years. Finally Carolines sharp eyes spotted an old blaze, and a little scouting confirmed the way. Eventually we joined an old jeep trail, and the difficult navigating was over for the day. But not the hiking! We still had miles to go. Just before dark there was a huge rainbow in the sky. We hiked well after dark, in silence due to exhaustion, eventually leaving the road and re-entering the forest. At this point the instructors took over, and guided us the rest of the way. After another hour or so we came across a little shelter and a couple of quicky-ups. We were welcomed to Durphy, a special place used by the school on a regular basis, and told that Group Expedition was over. Dave informed us we could have a fire, but only if one of us could make it. The group all looked to me. So while they made their beds in one of the quicky-ups, I got out my bow set and went to work. After a few minutes, and with Daves patient coaching, I had us a fire. We cooked all our remaining food, as there would be more the next day. Many had gone to bed without eating; they were so tired, so those of us who stayed up truly stuffed ourselves. It was a good night. DAYS 7 & 8 - LONG-TERM SURVIVAL This was the day to talk of many things. Large game processing is taught within the context of traditional wilderness living and the realities of the physical needs of the human body - from the BOSS website. We were introduced to a sheep from a nearby free-range farm. We held a talking-circle to discuss how everyone felt about the taking of this life to sustain ours. Points of view ran the spectrum, but no one seemed eager to do the deed. We were all given time to think, after which we each had to decide whether we would draw a straw to see who it would be. We all opted in. And of all people it was Lorri, strong-but-gentle-hearted vegan Lorri, who drew the long straw. Lorri took some extra time to pray while the rest of us led the sheep to the prepared spot. A hole had been dug and a bucket placed in it to catch the blood. Nothing was to be wasted. We laid the sheep down over the bucket, and each of us laid a hand on it so that we were all symbolically involved. Lorri placed the tip of her newly-sharpened knife against the sheeps throat, and expertly cut through windpipe and juggler vein in one swift stroke. She cried, but it could not have been done more humanely. We hung the sheep and learned to butcher it efficiently. Every part was put to good use, and we feasted for two days. My own views on eating meat are the result of much soul-searching on the subject. I believe that all eating is the sacrifice of one life to sustain another, whether that life be animal or vegetable. I think it is perfectly natural for animals to kill other animals for food, but very unnatural to raise animals in cruel conditions their whole lives so as to increase profits. I therefore cannot and will not support factory farms, but do occasionally enjoy game or free-range meat. But still, this was more meat in two days than I have eaten in the past two years! We grilled up some steaks, and fried up rendered fat to make cracklins (eaten as a snack). We were all starved for calories, so we were trying everything as soon as it became available. We learned that blood can be scrambled up just like eggs, and is quite good cooked with garlic and onions. We also ate lungs, kidneys, liver, etc. We cooked the shanks in a big steam pit with butternut squash and potatoes. The bones, still holding scraps of meat we couldnt get off, were thrown in a stew. Some meat was set aside and dried to make jerky for the rest of course. We stayed at Durphy for two days, learning also how to make cordage from plant fibers and how to use cordage to make deadfall traps. We got advanced lessons in knot tying and shelter-building. Shawn, Jenn, Mark, Caroline, Matthew, Lorri, and Sam all got their first fires. We feasted and rested and played games and had fun, knowing that this time would be over soon, and that solo must be on the way. On the morning of day eight, Shawn announced that he was leaving, having accomplished what he came for. I was now the only male student over 20. DAYS 9 & 10 - SOLO This was absolutely my favorite part of course. Dave loaned me his personal hand-drill set, and led me to a beautiful spot at the edge of the mountains overlooking the desert below. I hiked well away from the road, and soon found a great spot to build a quick shelter. I wasted no time dropping not only my blanket pack but also my clothes and shoes, running around barefoot and naked throughout solo. First thing I wanted to do, even before setting up my little shelter, was to scout out my area for resources. I soon found juniper for fire-starter, sand stone to sharpen my knife, and a whole field of wild onions to supplement my rations. I set up my shelter between two downed trees, filling the space with pine straw and covering it with my poncho. It was not as much fun as building a primitive shelter (without the poncho), but was fast and left me time for the many other things I wanted to try. Now, to build a fire. I picked out a great spot between some big rocks to reflect the heat, with a natural bench to sit on while cooking, and a nearby sheltered niche to store dry wood. I built a perfect little nest from the juniper bark Id found, and was now ready to fill it with a new baby ember. Thats when the trouble started. When Dave loaned me his beautiful hand drill set I got cocky, and left my trusty bow drill set behind. Hand drills are much more challenging than bow drills, but I had gotten the latter so quickly that I was sure I could learn the hand drill too. Several hours and blisters later, I was eating a cold supper. Next day I tried again, getting smoke several times, only to have the drill slip out of its hole or drill in too deep and bind, and eventually wearing my hands past the point where I could try any more. Determined not to finish solo without a fire, I ended up constructing a new bow drill set from materials I found in my solo site. This was satisfying in itself, as I was making this set with no coaching from the instructors. Finally, early in the afternoon of the second day of solo, I popped out a hot coal, blew the nest into flame, and started my very own fire. It is hard to describe how fulfilling this was. I spent most of the rest of that day playing around *my* fire, cooking, eating, dancing, composing a new flute melody (Song of the Canyon Wren, for Caroline) and wondering how Matthew was doing. I hung out by my fire late into the night, before crawling into my cozy little shelter blissed out so at peace with the world. DAY 11 - STUDENT EXPEDITION I had to rise early next morning, in order to rendezvous with the other students and return to Durphy for our next adventure. We held another talking circle to share our solo experiences, and learned that another student, Sam, had decided to leave during solo. Most of us had enjoyed solo, although I may have been the only one who wished he was still out there. After our talking circle we were told to prepare for Student Expedition. Students would be divided into two teams, one all male and the other female. We were given some rations, maps, admonitions on routes (dont take the jeep trail, thats too easy), and a rendezvous point (Lampstand) 40 miles away where our instructors would meet us in two days. We started out in the rain. Our group of five guys shared two maps, one to be used by whoever led that day, and the other for sweep. I led the first day, and we shot our bearings south, hiking up out of the valley and over a high ridge where we stopped for lunch. It was windy and cold, but the rain had stopped and we could see for miles. Our sweep realized he had dropped his map and went back to look for it, but with no luck. After lunch we hiked down the other side of the ridge and found a foot trail that took us to our first campsite by a small pond. The guys looked once again to me to start a fire, even though several of them had done it, so I did. It was kind of gratifying but also high pressure, as each try was a new test, but overall it was good to be getting so much practice. We had a hot supper and went to bed early. We were at lower altitude now so we spread out and slept each to ourselves, some just sleeping out under the stars. DAY 12 - STUDENT EXPEDITION Asher, one of the younger guys, wanted to lead this day, and took our only remaining map. Tension began to build as I second-guessed some of his routes, occasionally suggesting what I thought would be an easier way. I had a lot more experience to work with, and tried to be as cool as possible with my suggestions, but still there was tension. We spotted smoke coming from a wash at one point, and Nate impressed by running over to put out a small brush fire, this despite his sore feet more blistered and taped up than any of us. Around mid-day we were over-taken by the ladies, who were in good spirits after getting their own fire started the night before. They had been following our tracks most of the morning. Together we hiked down the Grand Staircase (we were in Escalante National Monument now) and into the canyon desert. In the narrow canyon, with navigation no longer an issue, the guys gradually pulled away from the women. Soon after, our drama began. Our instructions had been to follow the canyon down until its stream petered out, camp for the night, and then dry hike out a side canyon the next morning. Our route took us right past the jeep trail we had been told not to take, a jeep trail that would save us at least ten miles. Asher called a meeting, where he argued that a dry hike in this country was unsafe, and that we should unite in choosing the shorter route and explaining this necessity to the instructors when we arrived. I held out, arguing that the assigned hike did not appear unsafe to me, that we would have a chance to drink our fill before leaving the stream, that we would each be carrying two quarts of water, that we might find intermittent pools farther down, and that I had dry-hiked ten miles in the past and knew I could do it again. In the end, I told them they should follow their heart, but that I came here for a challenge and was going to go the way we were supposed to go, even if it meant hiking it alone and without a map. Asher was livid. He said that we could not split up the group, but that I was being selfish and arrogant. Of all the guys, only Matt seemed to agree with me. But on we went and sure enough, there were several intermittent pools along the wash. Now the young guys decided that we should rebel by hiking the whole way today, hiking by moonlight all the way to the rendezvous point. I said fine, as long as it did not get unsafe. We found our side canyon and started up it, following another wash. We were all pretty tired as the canyon neared its end, and excited about hiking up and out. But when we got to the end, it dead-ended! No way out! The guys freaked out, and began scrambling up sheer walls with sand and scree tumbling behind them. Even Matt followed. Alone at the bottom, wishing I could look at the map and figure out what went wrong, I had no choice but to follow myself. When I caught up with them they were at an impasse. We had reached a level spot, but there was no way to climb higher. Asher asked, So are you feeling challenged yet? When I said, yeah, a little, he started cussing. It was too dark to see the map now, so I suggested getting some sleep until morning. A little sleep, a little light, and everything will look better. Worse come to worst we just have to go back the way we came and take the jeep trail. They did not like me very much just then (excepting Matthew), but did not have much choice but to settle in for the night. Matthew and I found our own spot, down a little from the others, and talked more pleasantly about the nature of adventures and how being occasionally lost was all part of it. DAY 13 - STUDENT EXPEDITION Next morning was the prettiest sunrise of the whole trip. The picture I took of it is captioned “Sunrise over Egg Canyon”. It took only a few minutes of looking at the maps to sort out our mistake. The wash did indeed lead to a dead end, which is why we were supposed to have abandoned the wash a mile or so back. As it was, however, we were still several hours ahead of schedule and just around the corner from where we needed to exit the canyon. The others were relieved, and morale really lifted when we actually did leave the canyon. We met the girls again at a crossroads, and hiked the last couple of miles together to the rendezvous point. There I made a fire to cook up some jerky stew, and Lorri whipped up a batch of her now-famous ash cakes. We were already eating when the instructors showed up with pasta primavera and salad, all made with wild ingredients, including two amazing wild foods salad dressings. It was a party. Lampstand was a small but beautiful mesa, maybe 200 high, and the instructors wanted to climb it. Jenn, Matthew, and I decided to join them. Mojo took a crazy route and reached a spot where he could go no further up. Then, with all of us trying to talk him out of it, he decided to make like the jack rabbit and just run across the vertical wall to join us in our more promising route. He made it! Mojo probably could have flown, if he had wanted to. He even looked like Peter Pan. Up top we took pictures, and Dave and Logan had a rock-throwing contest. Dave won hands-down, nailing a boulder that must have been 300 away (300 out, plus 200 down). NIGHT 13/ - FINAL CHALLENGE We went to sleep that night knowing that there was supposed to be one final challenge. It was a worst-kept secret that we would be woken up before the night was over. Sure enough, around midnight, we were woken up given directions back to base, some 25 miles away, and told to start walking! Matt fell into place beside me, and we enjoyed our little moonlit walk, discussing life, adventures, our families, and all sorts of things over the next ten miles. Happy surprise was, the instructors were waiting for us at the ten-mile mark, right about dawn, ready with eggs and bacon and fresh fruit and orange juice. Our final challenge, and the course, was over. DAY 14 - HAPPY TRAILS Back at BOSS central we all exchanged contact info, took pictures, and shared hugs. I bought a couple of books from their library on tracking and primitive skills. Dave invited me back to become a BOSS apprentice, and I am seriously considering it for next summer. Logan drove our van back to Provo, and I ended up gifting him the flute I had used on course. Matt and I continued on to Salt Lake City, where we enjoyed a gourmet restaurant meal and made plans to adventure together again real soon.
Posted on: Sat, 19 Apr 2014 07:48:12 +0000
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