I still pushed forward. My lips were cracking and my mouth was dry due to breathing through my mouth and a lack of water. The front part of my mouth was dry and slowly progressed inward as I traveled. I’d moisten my tongue in the back part of my mouth and then relay that moisture up to the front.  What I would have given for a glass of water!  My saliva reservoir ran out and then the end of my tongue dried out and felt like a piece of wood. Emotionally I felt a stomach wrenching desperation of not being able to swallow.

I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but food wasn’t important to me. My body’s cravings had prioritized the essentials for survival. There were only needs for water and rest. But even those were suppressed as I pressed myself to go on.

The sun had set and the light was fading. I sensed that the canyon gorge wasn’t much further, but still wondered if I was even on the right trail. Being close wouldn’t remedy two serous obstacles. My choices were to spend what precious time I had walking. However, I needed to still get down to the bottom of the canyon and cross the river before dark. Walking back up the other side without light would be difficult but not with the same risk as going down. The other choice was to stop while there is time to build shelter. Common survival skills dictates seeking shelter while there is light, but I wasn’t prepared to be out all night. I could freeze to death without proper shelter or clothing. My rational thought and Boy Scout training told me to stop and seek shelter. But my gut intuition and determination pushed me onward.

The light continued to fade and was almost gone. Then I came to the next fork in the road. I couldn’t see well enough to determine which path to take. I actually got on my hands and knees, placed my face within inches of the ground in order to spot a footprint. There was enough light to walk, but not enough to track.

That’s when I finally had to face reality. Even if I could figure which trail fork to take, there wouldn’t be time to traverse the gorge. I needed shelter and I needed it now!. Unfortunately  my gamble hadn’t paid out. If only I had brought a flashlight.

My goal changed to finding a shelter that would protect me from the wind and cold. I looked to see what natural protection the natural terrain had to offer. I got off the trail a few hundred feet for isolation. A year earlier, Indians in this area had killed a wandering journalist. So I needed protection from man and land. When I couldn’t find some irregularity in the land that would offer shelter from the wind, I picked a treed area that offered some insulation against a clear night sky. I did find a large bush that created a break from winds flowing down from the higher ground above. I placed my camera on a nearby rock and began gathering pine needles for a bed. The needles were only about a half-inch deep and it took a lot of raking with my fingers to accumulate the amount needed for a bed.

I started stacking dead trees for a shelter wall. I got one side up about eighteen inches and still needed more.

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