63 Days

Day two of “solo” began with a start.

SNAP!

Something was in the brush around my camp. I listened carefully, but all I could hear was silence. Then it moved again. I slid down into my blanket even deeper and waited. Whatever it was, it was only about 20 feet from where I was laying and I couldn’t even move a muscle. Still, i sat, terrified.

It moved again, and I struggled to keep my body still. I held every breath in as I waited to hear the next move of whatever was out there.

I heard nothing for what seemed like 5 minutes, when suddenly, a noise came from next to the tree that was right next to the opening of my area. I peered out from beneath my blanket and I was so relieved at what I was seeing.

A family of jack rabbits was standing in a pile of sagebrush, knawing away at the roots and berries from the juniper tree. The larger of the 3 was holding its head up, watching for predators, it seemed, its eyes darting back and forth, always on the lookout. The two smaller rabbits were engorging themselves and seemed to be delighted with this find. I watched for a moment, relieved that it had only been rabbits.

I sat up after a while and stood to get out of bed. I glanced around at my area, and noticed a strange trail that wound around my bed and all over the camp. It looked like someone had been dragging a hose everywhere. This was a snake track, and it had come to just about 6 inches from where my head had been all night. I ran to the rock and climbed to the top of it. I didn’t feel safe down on the sand in bare feet.

The view from the top of the rock was amazing in the morning sun. I could see the Kaiparowitz Plateau from here. The clouds from the north were moving in slowly, shedding drops of rain across the desert as they moved toward me. I slid down the rock and grabbed the small camera they allowed us for the solo trip and snapped a photo. It was beautiful. The rain on the dry dirt and sand smells like nothing you’ve ever smelled before. It has an earthy scent, one that reminds me of growing up in Las Vegas and how when it would rain those first few drops of the August monsoon season, all of the kids in the neighborhood would stop and watch the dry ground get covered in huge wet polka-dots. Rain always feels the best in the desert.

I sat on the rock, waiting for the drops to get to me. It was chilly out still, but I had never been so gloriously alone in such a beautiful place before. The red cliffs and plateaus in the distance, the ancient black juniper trees that had been burned before, or hit by lighting at some point in the past. The sandy trails of dunes that wound through orange slick rock mounds, peppered with green sage brush and yellow and purple early spring wild flowers. This was God’s country, and I was alive.

I sat down again on the rock and looked out over the valley before me. I wondered about my family, what they were doing. I thought about all of my friends at home. I started to think about Eddie, but it just made me cry, so I began to sing songs that I learned when I was a child at Sunday School.

“I am a child of God, and He has sent me here
Has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear.
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do, to live with Him someday…”

I realized then that something out there in the universe had a plan for me, and I was determined to stick this out, to go through the program and whatever else might come my way. I had to put my shoulder to the wheel, and trudge through this with my head up. There were only another 62 days to go, and I felt at peace with that for the first time.

Around the bend, in the distance where I hadn’t seen it, a jeep came slowly up one of the trails heading up to where I was. In it were 2 men. I wasn’t going to be peaceful for much longer.