I continued clawing pine needles into a pile for use as a cover blanket. My shaking continued to increase. The night was sucking my warmth and energy like a black hole. Strangely, my mind was isolated from my physical struggle and thought more about what the search party would find the next day. “I may not survive this. I may never be found.” If I should die in the night and be covered with pine needles, a search party may never find me.

I sat contemplating what got me into this situation. That’s when I noticed what appeared to be a flashlight from someone walking in the far distance. With some apprehension over whether that person was friend or foe, I yelled to them. There wasn’t a reply. Apparently they couldn’t hear me and weren’t coming this way. If they weren’t part of the search party, they might also prefer avoiding strangers. It was becoming more apparent to me that being off of the trail and hidden under pine needles would make it difficult for a search party to find my body,

I had a critical decision to make. Should I strike out for the search party, if that’s who they were, or stay with my partially built shelter. Basic survival theory states emphatically to stay with your shelter. But the basics also say to build a fire. Wish I had matches.

But this was Mexico and my gut told me the basics didn’t apply here. Over and over I pondered my choices. If I left my shelter, I would never find it again. On the other hand, if my shelter was not adequate enough to protect me from the cold, what was I really leaving? Also, I had concerns about those looking for me since they may go all night if I don’t reach them as well. Another benefit was if I started moving again I would warm up. I grappled around for my camera and started out towards the light calling out into the night.

Strangely, after a 100 yards the light disappeared. Now I’ve lost both my shelter and my chance to be rescued. But then I heard a car horn back from where I had come. Could it be? Maybe the search party had driven here and were trying to locate me. There was just enough starlight to see a path cut through the trees but not the trail. Then I continued back where I thought the horn had sounded, but on the main trail in case someone was looking for me.

My dry mouth and tongue had moistened somewhat. I yelled several times while heading towards where I thought the sound came from. However there was no reply. But then as I headed uphill, I heard dozens of horns honking. Upon turning around, I saw a whole line of lights along the horizon. At last I’ve been found! I perceived the search team parking along the canyon and turning on their car lights to guide me home.

Eventually I realized the streetlights and sounds were coming from Guachochi. They appeared close because I was right next to the deep canyon that separated us. As I would walk down closer to the gorge, the far side’s cliff would rise and hide the streetlights. I realized this later, but at the time the hypothermia was keeping me from figuring it out. Though the town was less than a mile away, in reality I couldn’t have been further. Without a flashlight in this darkness I’d never get across that canyon. My skepticism had grown to whether or not there would be a next morning.

That’s when I saw the light from a nearby house window through the trees. A warm incandescent light illuminated somebody’s home and looked so inviting. This was my only salvation. However, I had some legitimate concerns. I needed to approach cautiously because the inhabitants  wouldn’t know who I was.  Without speaking Spanish, I feared how I would be received and maybe even shot as a prowler. On the other hand, the inhabitants might have heard that I was missing over the radio. So I planned if addressed in Spanish, I could say “no bandito, no bandito.” As I headed towards the house, I lost sight of it behind a cluster trees. My apprehension increased when I had to cross a barbed wire fence to reach the home. Now I was trespassing.

Next