The other section of Survival kids had been going to use this site before us. They were supposed to be gone, but as we came out of the brush, there were campfires ahead! Our leaders made us go past them to make our camp. I don't know why that was so hard, but for me, it was.
The leaders pointed out this branch in the canyon where we would find water for the night – clean, cold, spring water! Excitedly, we headed down the direction they told us. The riverbed was so heavily muddied that we sank in to our ankles, at times. It smelled stagnant and putrid. But, for clean water – who cared! But at the end, all we found was another muddy branch of the Green River, eddying into our riverbed. I thought everyone would break into hysteria. NEVER was anyone more disappointed. I DID cry. I dipped my cup in to muddy water. Covering the cup with my handkerchief (to filter out some the solids), I drank two cupfuls of the muddy water. I turned back up the wretched muddy trail to find our camp, feeling utterly retched, depressed, homesick and cold.
Another night of sleeping on the ground around an ineffectual fire, only this time my clothes were muddy, smelly and still wet. The ground was damp and the fire wasn’t big enough or warm enough for the five of us trying to sleep around it. The leaders let us sleep later the next morning because Section One had to leave first. Roy had rejoined us during the night and he needed the chance to catch a little rest, too.
We had covered 32 miles those first two days. The first day we did 12 miles in 9 or 10 hours. The second day we did 22 miles in 15-18 hours.
The third day we left camp around 10 or 11 AM and started up Horse Thief Canyon. It was another hot, clear-sky day. In the dark, the night before, we had taken the wrong turn looking for the spring. The opposite direction did truly lead to a spring and I repented of doubting the joy they promised in good, sweet, “pollywog water.” It was delicious and made the prospects of the day seem better.
At the spring, we “tanked up” and “wetted down” and began the hardest day yet, for me. All of the trail into Horse Thief Canyon was uphill. We climbed up away from the spring and farther into the canyon. Everything about that day was hard for me. It was hard to go on. It was HOT. I was tired and thirsty. I must have been hungry, but I couldn’t feel it. Ahead of me there just kept being bend after bend of the canyon. This canyon had no water and seemed like it had no end.
I started falling behind. Larry Mullins stayed back to walk with me for a while. (Ask me what that was like.) While Larry walked with me, he told me the story of the canyon. In the old West, it had been a favorite “freeway” for horse thieves to take their spoils away. They would drive them up the canyon, which had water for the horses, then to a horse trail that led onto “Robber’s Roost.” There was plenty of grazing land and water there. That was where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid hid out.
He also told me where to look for water in a canyon. You look for a place where the canyon is narrower, where there is less prolonged sunshine on the canyon floor. You look for heavy vegetation and especially cottonwood trees because they can’t grow without water.
I felt badly about what I had done the night before, but after seeing how bad it was for him made me feel worse. He had a walking staff and he leaned heavily upon it. Once when I looked up at him, he didn’t know I was looking and the pain and effort to keep going showed plainly on his face. For a while, that was enough to keep me going. I thought a lot about how I had caused his suffering. And then I started giving up again. I asked if I could sit down and rest again. There was one girl behind us who was having a worse time than I was. Her name was Sheila. I promised to get up when she got there and walk with her, so Larry let me stay and went on alone.
Anyway, I waited not so much for Sheila, as because I didn’t want to go anymore. I didn't want to think about what trials I had caused for Larry. But, when Sheila came, I got up and walked with her. I had walked with her the night before when she had a charlie horse in her leg and it still seemed to be bothering her. Walking with her, I could stop frequently because she would stop. I massaged her leg, had her do exercises and prayed with her that she would be able to go on. For a while that made me stronger. We continued on until we got to the spring where the rest of the group was waiting.
We had a long rest there, where we could take off our boots, dry out our feet and take a nap. While I was taking my nap, I decided that I was going no further. I was going to stay where there was water and shade. I was beginning to be sick at that point and was really physically and emotionally down. I would drink and then throw up all the water I had just drank. I’d be thirsty again – drink, throw up, be thirsty, drink, throw up, etc. Everyone started getting ready to leave and I just kept lying there.
Our group leader, Jeff, came up and asked what was wrong. I told him that I didn’t want to go. He said he knew I could do it. He said each one of us were having our own personal trials. His trial right then was that the trip wasn’t a physical effort for him. He had to learn to be patient with the slow pace and learn to help with the hurting ones. That was what was hard for him – to keep from running ahead and doing it all alone.
So, again, I got up, put my shoes and socks back on and joined my group. Somewhere that day we had been divided up into groups designed to keep together and watch out for each other. Up until then, we had either been on our own or having one partner to walk with. The only ones I can remember being in my group that day is Craig, Tag, and Connie.
We headed up to the end of the canyon and started up the horse trail at the end. Never have I relied so completely on someone in a physical sense until that point. Craig walked ahead of me, holding my hand almost the whole way. Connie was right behind me, encouraging me all the time. Tag's sense of humor and encouragement helped. It was a steep climb and I had to stop and catch my breath several times – and still they were patient and kind with me.
Finally we reached the top and I was so exhilarated I could hardly stand it. We were back on top of the mesa and could see all the distance we had walked. We could see back to Horseshoe Canyon and where it joined the Green River and where Horse Thief Canyon separated from Green River to where we now stood. It was overwhelming to realize I had covered all that traveling only on my own two feet. And that I hadn’t done it alone. It was powerful for all of us. Spontaneously, we all just started singing “The Spirit of God” and the “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” SOOO beautiful. It was literally true. By that time, it was dark and again we had to wait for the moon to rise to have light to walk by.
When the moon came up, we walked to a pothole, where cattle usually drank and were able to get some water. Then began OUR version of The Long Walk.
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