CHAPTER EIGHT
The Raven
70 hrs 45 mins
7:30 am
That last video recording was the most pessimistic so far. It's strange, but the feeling of hopelessness doesn't last. As the sky grows brighter, I think of the raven. The bird is a sign of hope. Just thinking about it makes me want to do something. I try lifting the boulder once more. I make the rope even shorter, but when I step on it, nothing happens.
I do everything I can to make it work. I push, jump and shout as I put all my weight onto the rope. It's still no good. The boulder doesn't move a millimeter. I step down and lay my head on the boulder. I feel like crying but I can't. There's not enough water in my body to produce any tears. But there's still the knife. It's lying open on top of the boulder.
Suddenly, I know what I'm going to do. Quickly, I put the tourniquet around my arm and tighten it. Then I pick up the multi-tool, open the shorter knife and push it hard into my arm. This time, the knife goes all the way in. I pull out the knife and look at the deep hole I've made in my right arm. I can't believe I've done this.
It didn't even hurt and there's very little blood. I can see the bones in my arm through the hole. I will never be able to cut through them with only a small knife. It's time for a drink. I pick up the bottle and feel the last of the water disappear down my throat. I check the time. It's exactly 8:00 am and all I have to drink now is urine.
71 hrs 45 mins
8:30 am
The raven appears. It's fifteen minutes late but I'm happy. I was beginning to think it wouldn't come. I feel happy and start thinking of all the wonderful times I've spent with friends and family. I remember a trip to Washington D.C. with my sister, and another to Gettysburg with my dad. I also think of all the adventures I've had with different friends. The time passes quickly. Noon arrives without me realizing.
I urinate into the CamelBak. Then I pour the clearer half of the urine into my water bottle. I throw the rest away. I have no idea how long anyone can survive on urine alone. At least drinking it wasn't as bad as I expected.
It is now the warmest part of the day. This is the time I am most comfortable. I have found the best way to sit and feel calmer in the warm air. Perhaps help will arrive in time. If so, I will soon be as free as the raven. Three hours later, I have reached the end of my third day trapped in the canyon.
None of my plans of escape have worked. All I can do is stay strong for another night and hope for rescue. I eat the last burrito. It is too dry to get down my throat so I take a mouthful of urine. The urine tastes better at night because it's colder, but it's still going to be a long, hard night.
On Wednesday morning, Brion After was at work in the shop. At nine-fifteen, he called Leona to check if he had arrived, but he hadn't. Brion had waited long enough. He picked up the phone. Aron's mother answered on the first ring. 'Mrs. Ralston?' 'Yes?' 'This is Brion After - Aron's boss at Ute Mountaineer. I'm afraid I'm rather worried about him. He hasn't returned from a trip he took last week.
Do you know where he went? No one here has seen him since last Wednesday.' 'Oh dear,' said Aron's mother. 'I have no idea where he is. I called him last week and left a message, but he didn't call back. Did he tell any of his housemates where he was going?' 'No, just that he might hike somewhere in the Canyonlands area of Utah,' explained Brion. 'I think you should call the Aspen police.'
'Yes, I'll do that right now. I'll let you know what happens.' 'Thank you, Brion.' Mrs. Ralston's hand was shaking as she put down the phone. She suddenly had an idea. Perhaps Aron had sent an email to one of his friends saying where he was going? She went to the computer. Aron had an email address - but what was it? She found his name, but had to answer a secret question to read his emails.
None of the answers she gave worked but she kept trying. In the end, she guessed the correct answer and sent the information to Brion. After Brion had called the Aspen police, the head officer, Adam Crider, started the rescue operation. He called Mrs. Ralston for the license plate number of her son's truck. Mrs. Ralston had written it down on a piece of paper.
When she read it to Officer Crider, she didn't realize it was wrong. Aron had given it to her in a hurry and made a mistake. Officer Crider called back and told Mrs. Ralston there was no record of that license plate. This left her with another problem. How could she find the correct license-plate number?
Brion After was having better luck. He had found a list of email addresses for Aron's climbing friends. Perhaps they knew where he was. He wanted to check immediately, but he had to leave for Australia that day. He called Aron's housemate Elliot and asked him to manage the store and rescue operation until he returned. Elliot agreed.
When Elliot reached the store, he received a call from Mrs. Ralston. She wanted to check the license-plate number she had given Brion. It was on his desk. Elliot checked as she read out the number. 'Wait. Did you say 886, Mrs. Ralston?' 'Yes.' 'Brion made a mistake. He wrote down 888. I'll call Officer Crider and give him the correct number.'
By early afternoon, Elliot had received an email from Steve Pratchett, the most important of Aron's climbing friends. Steve had climbed for many years. He often led rescue operations to find climbers lost in the mountains. Another friend, Jason, had sent Steve a list of all the canyons Aron said he wanted to hike in Canyonlands.
Steve called the Utah police for the area and spoke to one of the main officers, Kyle Ekker. Officer Ekker was very helpful. Steve gave him the latest license plate number for Aron's truck and Officer Ekker sent his men out to look for it. They returned as night fell. There was no sign of the truck. Officer Ekker checked the number with the national license office. There was no vehicle on record. Once again, the number was wrong.
The bad news reached Aron's mother. Then she remembered that Aron was living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, when he bought the truck. The vehicle license office for the area was in Santa Fe. She called and an officer searched the records and found Aron's name. The records showed his license-plate number as NM 846-MMY.
Finally, they had the correct number. The information was given to Officer Ekker. It was too late to continue searching that night. It would have to wait until the morning. 'Wait for us, Aron,' Mrs. Ralston said as she went to bed. 'We're coming.'
89 hrs 15 mins
2:00 am
The darkness seems unreal. In fact, I don't know what is real and what isn't anymore. I start to have visions. Friends suddenly appear in the canyon like silent ghosts and wave me towards them. I follow and find myself in some place I know from the past.
They smile at me in a kind way, but they never speak. Because of their kindness, I am not afraid. I know they are protecting me. I am happy while the visions last.
To me, they are real. It is only when they disappear and the cold and pain return that I know they are not. Then, shaking hard, I continue chipping at the boulder. After that, I sit again and it's not long before the visions return. During the second half of the night, I have visions of myself as a child. Sometimes I'm playing cards with my grandfather.
Other times I am running across bright green fields with my friends. Something about the visions tells me that I have not given the people I care about enough attention. I'm always thinking of the things I want to achieve and not noticing other people. Now I realize that my love for friends and family is the main reason I want to escape.
The thought of seeing them again is keeping me alive. I promise myself that if I can escape from here back to the people I love, I will be kinder towards them. The visions always include some kind of drink. It is usually something cold and sweet like apple juice or iced tea.
Just as I am about to drink, the vision disappears and I wake up. Then I feel the cold and the pain of the rope against my legs. I stand up and begin my routine all over again. However, the visions tell me something: I am not ready to die.
As morning comes on the fifth day, I feel sure I can still last a few more days. I don't know if this is true, but I'm still alive when the sun rises. The raven appears on time. The sound of its wings and the light in the canyon are beautiful. I watch its smooth flight, following the line of the canyon. I take out my camera and film as it disappears from view.
